twang, and that set her going again.

'Ye was aye a douce honest gentleman yersel', an' I dinna wonner ye
canna bide it. But I wad hae thoucht glory micht hae hauden ye in. But
yer ain son! Eh ay! And a braw lad and a bonnie! It's a sod thing he
bude to gang the wrang gait; and it's no wonner, as I say, that ye lea'
the worms to come an' luik efter him. I doobt--I doobt it winna be to
you he'll gang at the lang last. There winna be room for him aside ye in
Awbrahawm's boasom. And syne to behave sae ill to that winsome wife o'
his! I dinna wonner 'at ye maun be up! Eh na! But, sir, sin ye are up,
I wish ye wad speyk to John Thamson no to tak aff the day 'at I was awa'
last ook, for 'deed I was verra unweel, and bude to keep my bed.'

Robert was beginning to feel uneasy as to how he should get rid of her,
when she rose, and saying, 'Ay, ay, I ken it's sax o'clock,' went out
as she had come in. Robert followed, and saw her safe out of the garden,
but did not return to the factory.

So his father had behaved ill to his mother too!

'But what for hearken to the havers o' a dottled auld wife?' he said to
himself, pondering as he walked home.

Old Janet told a strange story of how she had seen the ghost, and had
had a long talk with him, and of what he said, and of how he groaned and
played the fiddle between. And finding that the report had reached his
grandmother's ears, Robert thought it prudent, much to his discontent,
to intermit his visits to the factory. Mrs. Falconer, of course,
received the rumour with indignant scorn, and peremptorily refused to
allow any examination of the premises.

But how have the violin by him and not hear her speak? One evening the
longing after her voice grow upon him till he could resist it no longer.
He shut the door of his garret-room, and, with Shargar by him, took her
out and began to play softly, gently--oh so softly, so gently! Shargar
was enraptured. Robert went on playing.

Suddenly the door opened, and his grannie stood awfully revealed before
them. Betty had heard the violin, and had flown to the parlour in the
belief that, unable to get any one to heed him at the factory, the ghost
had taken Janet's advice, and come home. But his wife smiled a smile
of contempt, went with Betty to the kitchen--over which Robert's room
lay--heard the sounds, put off her creaking shoes, stole up-stairs on
her soft white lambswool stockings, and caught the pair. The violin was
seized, put in i