thority as when she saw Supervisor Imrie with two-three of his men
come riding up from the Brig-End and out upon the green grass of the
Terreggles Braes. But she said nothing, only gave them a good day in
passing, and bade them 'beware o' the puir "naiteral," Daft Jeremy,
that was in one o' his fits o' anger that day!'

"'Sic a fierce craitur should be in the Towbooth. He is a danger to
the lieges,' said Supervisor Imrie, adding more cautiously, 'That is,
were it no that he would be a cess on the burgh and pairish!"

"When Mistress Comline gat to her own door she first delivered Donald
into the hands of her serving prentice, Robin Carmorie, as stout and
blythe a lad as ever walked the Plainstanes. But the wee lass she took
by the hand up to her own chamber, and there she stripped her to the
skin and washed her and put fine raiment on her, new from the
shop--aye, and did not rest from her labours till she had gathered
every auld rag that she found on her and committed them to the flames,
as if they had been art and part in the wizardry of Laird Stennis, her
grandfather, and the coming ill-repute of the white cothouse on the
brae-face of Breckonside.

"But, fearing she knew not clearly what, she sealed the shagreen
pocket-book up in a clean white wrapper and laid it aside in her
drawer, saying to herself, 'If this be honestly come by the laird is no
the man to forget to ca' in for his ain. And if no----" Here a shake
of the head and a shrewd smile intimated that the contents of the
pocket-book might one day be useful to its finder, little Elsie
Comline, as she was now to be named.

"'And wha has a better richt!' the shopkeeper would add, perhaps to
salve her conscience in the matter.

"But, indeed, it was but seldom, the pocket-book once safe in the
drawer, that she thought about the matter at all. For Margaret Comline
was a busy woman of affairs, having under her serving lassies and
prentice loons, a shop on the ground floor of a house in the Vennel,
and a well-patronized stall in the market. All day she went to and
fro, busily commending her goods and reproving her underlings with
equal earnestness and point. Sunday and Saturday the wrinkle was never
off her brow. Like Martha in the Scripture, she was careful and
troubled about many things. She read but seldom, and when she did her
memory retained not long the imprint of what she read. So that our
young monkey, Elsie, being fresh from the mischief-making