sehold matters. There is a
mistake in the butcher's account. Send the cook here."

She took up the domestic ledger and the kitchen report; corrected the
butcher; cautioned the cook; and disposed of all arrears of domestic
business before Hopkins was summoned again. Having, in this way,
dextrously prevented the woman from connecting any thing that her
mistress said or did, after Mrs. Glenarm's departure, with any thing
that might have passed during Mrs. Glenarm's visit, Lady Lundie felt
herself at liberty to pave the way for the investigation on which she
was determined to enter before she slept that night.

"So much for the indoor arrangements," she said. "You must be my prime
minister, Hopkins, while I lie helpless here. Is there any thing wanted
by the people out of doors? The coachman? The gardener?"

"I have just seen the gardener, my lady. He came with last week's
accounts. I told him he couldn't see your ladyship to-day."

"Quite right. Had he any report to make?"

"No, my lady."

"Surely, there was something I wanted to say to him--or to somebody
else? My memorandum-book, Hopkins. In the basket, on that chair. Why
wasn't the basket placed by my bedside?"

Hopkins brought the memorandum-book. Lady Lundie consulted it (without
the slightest necessity), with the same masterly gravity exhibited
by the doctor when he wrote her prescription (without the slightest
necessity also).

"Here it is," she said, recovering the lost remembrance. "Not the
gardener, but the gardener's wife. A memorandum to speak to her about
Mrs. Inchbare. Observe, Hopkins, the association of ideas. Mrs. Inchbare
is associated with the poultry; the poultry are associated with
the gardener's wife; the gardener's wife is associated with the
gardener--and so the gardener gets into my head. Do you see it? I am
always trying to improve your mind. You do see it? Very well. Now about
Mrs. Inchbare? Has she been here again?"

"No, my lady."

"I am not at all sure, Hopkins, that I was right in declining to
consider the message Mrs. Inchbare sent to me about the poultry. Why
shouldn't she offer to take any fowls that I can spare off my hands? She
is a respectable woman; and it is important to me to live on good terms
with al my neighbors, great and small. Has she got a poultry-yard of her
own at Craig Fernie?"

"Yes, my lady. And beautifully kept, I am told."

"I really don't see--on reflection, Hopkins--why I should hesitate to
deal with M