d Dymock, "but the
bust is oriental."

Shanty looked hard at his patron, as trying to understand what he meant
by _oriental_ and _Grecian;_ and then repeated his question, "Gipsy or
Jew, Mr. Dymock? for I am sure the little creature is not of our
northern breed."

"We shall see by and bye," said Dymock, "the question is, what is to be
done now? I am afraid that aunt Margaret will look prim and stately if I
carry the little one up to the Tower; however, I see not what else to
do. Who is afraid? But put your fire out, Shanty, and come with us. You
shall carry the bantling, and I will take the lanthorn. Mayhap, aunt
Margaret may think this arrangement the more genteel of the two. So
let it be."

And it was so; old Shanty turned into child-keeper, and the Laird into
lanthorn-carrier, and the party directed their steps towards the Tower,
and much talk had they by the way.

Now, as we have said before, there was a fund of kindness in the heart
of Mrs. Margaret Dymock, which kindness is often more consistent than
some people suppose, with attention to economy, especially when that
economy is needful; and moreover, she had lately lost a favourite cat,
which had been, as she said, quite a daughter to her. Therefore the
place of pet happened to be vacant just at that time, which was much in
favour of the forlorn child's interests. Dymock had taken Shanty with
him into the parlour, in which Mrs. Margaret sat at her darning; and he
had suggested to the old man, that he might just as well tell the story
himself for his aunt's information, and account for the presence of the
infant; and, in his own words, Mrs. Margaret took all very well, and
even did not hint that if her nephew had been in his own parlour,
instead of being in a place where vagrants were sheltered, he would at
all events have been out of this scrape. But the little one had awoke,
and had begun to weep, and the old lady's heart was touched, so she
called one of the maids, and told her to feed the babe and put it to
sleep; after which, having ordered that Shanty should be regaled with
the bladebone of a shoulder of mutton, she withdrew to her room to think
what was next to be done.

The result of Mrs. Margaret's thoughts were, that come what might, the
child must be taken care of for a few days, and must be washed and
clothed; and, as the worthy lady had ever had the habit of laying by, in
certain chests and boxes piled on each other in her large bed-room, all
t