e said this, the laird had his head down almost to the ground,
loosing his shoe-buckle; but when he heard of prayers, on such a night,
he raised his face suddenly up, which was all over as flushed and red
as a rose, and answered:

"Prayers, Mistress! Lord help your crazed head, is this a night for
prayers?"

He had better have held his peace. There was such a torrent of profound
divinity poured out upon him that the laird became ashamed, both of
himself and his new-made spouse, and wist not what to say: but the
brandy helped him out.

"It strikes me, my dear, that religious devotion would be somewhat out
of place to-night," said he. "Allowing that it is ever so beautiful,
and ever so beneficial, were we to ride on the rigging of it at all
times, would we not be constantly making a farce of it: It would be
like reading the Bible and the jestbook, verse about, and would render
the life of man a medley of absurdity and confusion."

But, against the cant of the bigot or the hypocrite, no reasoning can
aught avail. If you would argue until the end of life, the infallible
creature must alone be right. So it proved with the laird. One
Scripture text followed another, not in the least connected, and one
sentence of the profound Mr. Wringhim's sermons after another, proving
the duty of family worship, till the laird lost patience, and tossing
himself into bed, said carelessly that he would leave that duty upon
her shoulders for one night.

The meek mind of Lady Dalcastle was somewhat disarranged by this sudden
evolution. She felt that she was left rather in an awkward situation.
However, to show her unconscionable spouse that she was resolved to
hold fast her integrity, she kneeled down and prayed in terms so potent
that she deemed she was sure of making an impression on him. She did
so; for in a short time the laird began to utter a response so fervent
that she was utterly astounded, and fairly driven from the chain of her
orisons. He began, in truth, to sound a nasal bugle of no ordinary
calibre--the notes being little inferior to those of a military
trumpet. The lady tried to proceed, but every returning note from the
bed burst on her ear with a louder twang, and a longer peal, till the
concord of sweet sounds became so truly pathetic that the meek spirit
of the dame was quite overcome; and, after shedding a flood of tears,
she arose from her knees, and retired to the chimney-corner with her
Bible in her lap, there to s