y.

"There I am--as ye say. Mercy presairve us! ye need the siller at every
turn, when there's a woman at yer heels. It's an awfu' reflection--ye
canna hae any thing to do wi' the sex they ca' the opposite sex without
its being an expense to ye. There's this young leddy o' yours, I doot
she'll ha' been an expense to ye from the first. When you were
coortin' her, ye did it, I'll go bail, wi' the open hand. Presents and
keep-sakes, flowers and jewelery, and little dogues. Sair expenses all
of them!"

"Hang your reflections! Has Sir Patrick left the inn?"

The reflections of Mr. Bishopriggs declined to be disposed of in any
thing approaching to a summary way. On they flowed from their parent
source, as slowly and as smoothly as ever!

"Noo ye're married to her, there's her bonnets and goons and
under-clothin'--her ribbons, laces, furbelows, and fallals. A sair
expense again!"

"What is the expense of cutting your reflections short, Mr.
Bishopriggs?"

"Thirdly, and lastly, if ye canna agree wi' her as time gaes on--if
there's incompaitibeelity of temper betwixt ye--in short, if ye want a
wee bit separation, hech, Sirs! ye pet yer hand in yer poaket, and come
to an aimicable understandin' wi' her in that way. Or, maybe she takes
ye into Court, and pets _her_ hand in your poaket, and comes to a
hoastile understandin' wi' ye there. Show me a woman--and I'll show ye
a man not far off wha' has mair expenses on his back than he ever
bairgained for." Arnold's patience would last no longer--he turned to
the door. Mr. Bishopriggs, with equal alacrity on his side, turned to
the matter in hand. "Yes, Sir! The room is e'en clear o' Sir Paitrick,
and the leddy's alane, and waitin' for ye."

In a moment more Arnold was back in the sitting-room.

"Well?" he asked, anxiously. "What is it? Bad news from Lady Lundie's?"

Anne closed and directed the letter to Blanche, which she had just
completed. "No," she replied. "Nothing to interest _you_."

"What did Sir Patrick want?"

"Only to warn me. They have found out at Windygates that I am here."

"That's awkward, isn't it?"

"Not in the least. I can manage perfectly; I have nothing to fear. Don't
think of _me_--think of yourself."

"I am not suspected, am I?"

"Thank heaven--no. But there is no knowing what may happen if you stay
here. Ring the bell at once, and ask the waiter about the trains."

Struck by the unusual obscurity of the sky at that hour of the evening,
Arnold