rooms
for a friend, used to lead the talk round to the Count's habits; but
that worthy matron was loyal to her lodger, and was not quite insensible
to the dignity of a mystery.

"Na, na, Mistress Lunan, I see what you're after; but beggin' your
pardon, a landlady's a landlady, and my mouth's closed. The Count disna
ken the difference atween Saturday and Sabbath, and the money he wastes
on tobacco juist goes to ma heart; but he never had the blessin' of a
Gospel ministry nor the privileges of Muirtown when he was young. As
regards stays, whether he wears them or disna wear them I'm no' prepared
to say, for I thank goodness that I've never yet opened a lodger's boxes
nor entered a lodger's room when he was dressin'. The Count pays his
rent in advance every Monday morning; he wanted to pay on Sabbath, but I
told him it was not a lawful day. He gives no trouble in the house, and
if his doctor ordered him to wear stays to support his spine, which I'm
no' sayin' he did, Mistress Lunan, it's no concern o' mine, and the
weather is inclining to snow."

His dress was a perfect fabric of art, however it may have been
constructed; and it was a pleasant sight to see the Count go down our
main street on a summer afternoon, approving himself with a side glance
in the mirrors of the larger shops, striking an attitude at our
bookseller's when a new print was exposed in the window, waving his
cigarette and blowing the smoke through his nostrils, which was
considered a "tempting of Providence," making his respectful salutations
to every lady whom he knew, and responding with "Celestial, my friend!"
to Bailie MacFarlane's greeting of "Fine growing weather." When he
sailed past McGuffie's stable-yard, like Solomon in all his glory, that
great man, who always persisted in regarding the Count as a sporting
character, would touch the rim of his hat with his forefinger--an honour
he paid to few--and, after the Count had disappeared, would say "Gosh!"
with much relish. This astounding spectacle very early attracted the
attention of the Seminary boys, and during his first summer in Muirtown
it was agreed that he would make an excellent target for snowball
practice during next winter. The temptation was not one which could have
been resisted, and it is to be feared that the Count would have been
confined to the house when the snow was on the ground had it not been
for an incident which showed him in a new light, and established him,
stays or no