rs.

Old houses in Edinburgh and its vicinity are so high, one would think
the people in those days wished to build among the stars; at least to
emulate the far-famed wonders of that language-confounding tower, which
caused the first emigration, by scattering the people over the face of
the earth.

They went up, and up, and up, until there seemed no end to the broad,
short steps. On the last flight, which led to the roof, the staircase
had so greatly contracted its proportions, that fat Mr. Gregg could
scarcely force himself up it, and he so completely obscured the light
which peered down upon them from a small trap-door, opening upon the
leads, that Flora, who followed him, found herself in a dim twilight,
and expected every moment the panting mountain, which had come between
her and the sky, would lose the centre of gravity, and suffocate her in
its fall.

No such tragic misfortune, however, occurred. The old gentleman forced
himself, after much squeezing and puffing off steam, through the narrow
aperture, and very gallantly lent a hand to assist Flora on to the
leads.

"This is a strait gate, on a narrow way," he cried. "But tell me, if it
does na' gie ye a glimpse o' heaven?"

The old man was right. Flora stood entranced, as it were, with the
glorious spectacle which burst upon her sight, the moment she stepped
upon the roof of that old house. Edinburgh, and the world of beauty that
lies around it, lay at her feet, bathed in the golden light of a
gorgeous June sunset. To those who have beheld that astonishing
panorama, all description must prove abortive. It is a sight to be
daguerreotyped upon the heart.

"Weel, was it not worth toiling up yon weary stair, to get sic a glimpse
as that, of the brave auld town?" said honest P. Gregg. "I'm jest
thinkin' I must enlarge the stair, or diminish mysel, before I can
venture through that narrow pass again. An', my dear leddy, I can do
neither the one nor the other. So this mayhap may be my last glint o'
the bonnie auld place."

Then he went on, after his quaint fashion, to point out to Mistress
Lyndsay all the celebrated spots in the neighbourhood, which every Scot
knows by heart, and Flora was so much amused and interested by his
narration, that she was sorry when the deepening shades of approaching
night warned the old man that it required daylight to enable him to
descend the narrow stair, and they reluctantly left the scene.

CHAPTER XXV.

FLORA'S DINN