n to ken this day--howbeit"----

"O, the devil take your gossip, my dear Mick! If you can give no help,
spare drowning me with your pother.--Why, man, I was a fresh hand--had
my apprentice-fees to pay--and these are no trifles, Mick.--But what of
that?--I am free of the company now, and can trade on my own bottom."

"Aweel, aweel, I wish it may be sae," said Meiklewham.

"It will be so, and it shall be so, my trusty friend," replied Mowbray,
cheerily, "so you will but help me to the stock to trade with."

"The stock?--what d'ye ca' the stock? I ken nae stock that ye have
left."

"But _you_ have plenty, my old boy--Come, sell out a few of your three
per cents; I will pay difference--interest--exchange--every thing."

"Ay, ay--every thing or naething," answered Meiklewham; "but as you are
sae very pressing, I hae been thinking--Whan is the siller wanted?"

"This instant--this day--to-morrow at farthest!" exclaimed the proposed
borrower.

"Wh--ew!" whistled the lawyer, with a long prolongation of the note;
"the thing is impossible."

"It must be, Mick, for all that," answered Mr. Mowbray, who knew by
experience that _impossible_, when uttered by his accommodating friend
in this tone, meant only, when interpreted, extremely difficult, and
very expensive.

"Then it must be by Miss Clara selling her stock, now that ye speak of
stock," said Meiklewham; "I wonder ye didna think of this before."

"I wish you had been dumb rather than that you had mentioned it now,"
said Mowbray, starting, as if stung by an adder--"What, Clara's
pittance!--the trifle my aunt left her for her own fanciful
expenses--her own little private store, that she puts to so many good
purposes--Poor Clara, that has so little!--And why not rather your own,
Master Meiklewham, who call yourself the friend and servant of our
family?"

"Ay, St. Ronan's," answered Meiklewham, "that is a' very true--but
service is nae inheritance; and as for friendship, it begins at hame, as
wise folk have said lang before our time. And for that matter, I think
they that are nearest sib should take maist risk. You are nearer and
dearer to your sister, St. Ronan's, than you are to poor Saunders
Meiklewham, that hasna sae muckle gentle blood as would supper up an
hungry flea."

"I will not do this," said St. Ronan's, walking up and down with much
agitation; for, selfish as he was, he loved his sister, and loved her
the more on account of those peculiarities which rend