old place. Do you see?'

'Perhaps you are right,' said Logan.

'Anyhow, there is no such pressing hurry. One _may_ bring him round with
time. A curious old survival! I did not understand all that he said.
There was something about having been thrice at kirk and market since he
made his will; and something about not having smelled appleringie for
forty years. What is appleringie?'

Logan laughed.

'It is a sacred Presbyterian herb. The people keep it in their Bibles
and it perfumes the churches. But look here--'

He was interrupted by the entrance of a page, who handed to him a letter.
Logan read it and laughed. 'I knew it; they are sharp!' he said, and
handed the letter to Merton. It was from a famous, or infamous, money-
lender, offering princely accommodation on terms which Mr. Logan would
find easy and reasonable.

'They have nosed the appleringie, you see,' he said.

'But I don't see,' said Merton.

'Why the hounds have heard that the old nobleman has been thrice to kirk
lately. And as he had not been there for forty years, they have guessed
that he has been making his will. Scots law has, or used to have,
something in it about going thrice to kirk and market after making a
will--disponing they call it--as a proof of bodily and mental soundness.
So they have spotted the marquis's pious motives for kirk-going, and
guessed that I am his heir. I say--' Logan began to laugh wildly.

'What do you say?' asked Merton, but Logan went on hooting.

'I say,' he repeated, 'it must never be known that the old lord came to
consult us,' and here he was again convulsed.

'Of course not,' said Merton. 'But where is the joke?'

'Why, don't you see--oh, it is too good--he has taken every kind of
precaution to establish his sanity when he made his will.'

'He told me that he had got expert evidence,' said Merton.

'And then he comes and consults US!' said Logan, with a crow of laughter.
'If any fellow wants to break the will on the score of insanity, and
knows, knows he came to us, a jury, when they find he consulted us, will
jolly well upset the cart.' Merton was hurt.

'Logan,' he said, 'it is you who ought to be in an asylum, an Asylum for
Incurable Children. Don't you see that he made the will long _before_ he
took the very natural and proper step of consulting Messrs. Gray and
Graham?'

'Let us pray that, if there is a suit, it won't come before a Scotch
jury,' said Logan. 'Anyhow, nobody knows