d made one were becoming calmer, and taking
one another's hands for life, when a diabolical sound arose--and what
was it but Sandy Liston, who, after furious resistance, was blubbering
with explosive but short-lived violence? Having done it, he was the
first to draw everybody's attention to the phenomenon; and affecting to
consider it a purely physical attack, like a _coup de soleil,_ or so on,
he proceeded instantly to Drysel's for his panacea.

Lady Barbara enjoined Lord Ipsden to watch these people, and not to lose
a word they said; and, after she had insisted upon kissing Christie,
she went off to her carriage. And she too was so happy, she cried three
distinct times on her way to Edinburgh.

Lord Ipsden, having reminded Gatty of his engagement, begged him to add
his mother and Christie to the party, and escorted Lady Barbara to her
phaeton.

So then the people dispersed by degrees.

"That old lady's face seems familiar to me," said Lord Ipsden, as he
stood on the little natural platform by the "Peacock." "Do you know who
she is, Saunders?"

"It is Peggy, that was cook in your lordship's uncle's time, my lord.
She married a green-grocer," added Saunders, with an injured air.

"Hech! hech!" cried Flucker, "Christie has ta'en up her head wi' a
cook's son."

Mrs. Gatty was ushered into the "Peacock" with mock civility by Mr.
Saunders. No recognition took place, each being ashamed of the other as
an acquaintance.

The next arrival was a beautiful young lady in a black silk gown, a
plain but duck-like plaid shawl, who proved to be Christie Johnstone, in
her Sunday attire.

When they met, Mrs. Gatty gave a little scream of joy, and said: "Oh, my
child; if I had seen you in that dress, I should never have said a word
against you."

"Pars minima est ipsa puella sui!"

His lordship stepped up to her, took off his hat, and said: "Will Mrs.
Gatty take from me a commission for two pictures, as big as herself, and
as bonny?" added he, doing a little Scotch. He handed her a check; and,
turning to Gatty, added, "At your convenience, sir, _bien entendu."_

"Hech! it's for five hundred pund, Chairles."

"Good gear gangs in little book,"* said Jean.

*Bulk.

"Ay, does it," replied Flucker, assuming the compliment.

"My lord!" said the artist, "you treat Art like a prince; and she shall
treat you like a queen. When the sun comes out again, I will work for
you and fame. You shall have two things painted, every