our taste, sir," she continued, when the traveller
had accepted her courtesy with the grateful acknowledgment, which men
addicted to speak a great deal usually show to a willing auditor.

"It is as good as we have any right to expect, ma'am," answered Mr.
Touchwood; "not quite like what I have drunk at Canton with old Fong
Qua--but the Celestial Empire does not send its best tea to Leadenhall
Street, nor does Leadenhall Street send its best to Marchthorn."

"That may be very true, sir," replied the dame; "but I will venture to
say that Mr. Bindloose's tea is muckle better than you had at the
Spaw-waal yonder."

"Tea, madam!--I saw none--Ash leaves and black-thorn leaves were brought
in in painted canisters, and handed about by powder-monkeys in livery,
and consumed by those who liked it, amidst the chattering of parrots and
the squalling of kittens. I longed for the days of the Spectator, when I
might have laid my penny on the bar, and retired without ceremony--But
no--this blessed decoction was circulated under the auspices of some
half-crazed blue-stocking or other, and we were saddled with all the
formality of an entertainment, for this miserable allowance of a
cockle-shell full of cat-lap per head."

"Weel, sir," answered Dame Dods, "all I can say is, that if it had been
my luck to have served you at the Cleikum Inn, which our folk have kept
for these twa generations, I canna pretend to say ye should have had
such tea as ye have been used to in foreign parts where it grows, but
the best I had I wad have gi'en it to a gentleman of your appearance,
and I never charged mair than six-pence in all my time, and my father's
before me."

"I wish I had known the Old Inn was still standing, madam," said the
traveller; "I should certainly have been your guest, and sent down for
the water every morning--the doctors insist I must use Cheltenham, or
some substitute, for the bile--though, d--n them, I believe it's only
to hide their own ignorance. And I thought this Spaw would have been the
least evil of the two; but I have been fairly overreached--one might as
well live in the inside of a bell. I think young St. Ronan's must be
mad, to have established such a Vanity-fair upon his father's old
property."

"Do you ken this St. Ronan's that now is?" enquired the dame.

"By report only," said Mr. Touchwood; "but I have heard of the family,
and I think I have read of them, too, in Scottish history. I am sorry to
understand the