good deal of hesitation, "I have seen the
girl in the shop--a modest-looking, fair-haired girl?"

"Ay, ay, that's just puir Effie," said her mistress. "How she was
abandoned to hersell, or whether she was sackless o' the sinful deed, God
in Heaven knows; but if she's been guilty, she's been sair tempted, and I
wad amaist take my Bible-aith she hasna been hersell at the time."

Butler had by this time become much agitated; he fidgeted up and down the
shop, and showed the greatest agitation that a person of such strict
decorum could be supposed to give way to. "Was not this girl," he said,
"the daughter of David Deans, that had the parks at St. Leonard's taken?
and has she not a sister?"

"In troth has she,--puir Jeanie Deans, ten years aulder than hersell; she
was here greeting a wee while syne about her tittie. And what could I say
to her, but that she behoved to come and speak to Mr. Saddletree when he
was at hame? It wasna that I thought Mr. Saddletree could do her or ony
ither body muckle good or ill, but it wad aye serve to keep the puir
thing's heart up for a wee while; and let sorrow come when sorrow maun."

"Ye're mistaen though, gudewife," said Saddletree scornfully, "for I
could hae gien her great satisfaction; I could hae proved to her that her
sister was indicted upon the statute saxteen hundred and ninety, chapter
one--For the mair ready prevention of child-murder--for concealing her
pregnancy, and giving no account of the child which she had borne."

"I hope," said Butler,--"I trust in a gracious God, that she can clear
herself."

"And sae do I, Mr. Butler," replied Mrs. Saddletree. "I am sure I wad hae
answered for her as my ain daughter; but wae's my heart, I had been
tender a' the simmer, and scarce ower the door o' my room for twal weeks.
And as for Mr. Saddletree, he might be in a lying-in hospital, and ne'er
find out what the women cam there for. Sae I could see little or naething
o' her, or I wad hae had the truth o' her situation out o' her, I'se
warrant ye--But we a' think her sister maun be able to speak something to
clear her."

"The haill Parliament House," said Saddletree, "was speaking o' naething
else, till this job o' Porteous's put it out o' head--It's a beautiful
point of presumptive murder, and there's been nane like it in the
Justiciar Court since the case of Luckie Smith the howdie, that suffered
in the year saxteen hundred and seventy-nine."

"But what's the matter wi' you, Mr.