ral shades lighter in colour than the upper garment.
The petticoat was formed of tartan silk, in the sett, or pattern, of
which the colour of blue greatly predominated, so as to remove the
tawdry effect too frequently produced in tartan, by the mixture and
strong opposition of colours. An antique silver chain hung round
her neck, and supported the WREST, or key, with which she turned her
instrument. A small ruff rose above her collar, and was secured by a
brooch of some value, an old keepsake from Lord Menteith. Her profusion
of light hair almost hid her laughing eyes, while, with a smile and a
blush, she mentioned that she had M'Aulay's directions to ask them if
they chose music. Sir Duncan Campbell gazed with considerable surprise
and interest at the lovely apparition, which thus interrupted his debate
with Allan M'Aulay.

"Can this," he said to him in a whisper, "a creature so beautiful and so
elegant, be a domestic musician of your brother's establishment?"

"By no means," answered Allan, hastily, yet with some hesitation; "she
is a--a--near relation of our family--and treated," he added, more
firmly, "as an adopted daughter of our father's house."

As he spoke thus, he arose from his seat, and with that air of courtesy
which every Highlander can assume when it suits him to practise it, he
resigned it to Annot, and offered to her, at the same time, whatever
refreshments the table afforded, with an assiduity which was probably
designed to give Sir Duncan an impression of her rank and consequence.
If such was Allan's purpose, however, it was unnecessary. Sir Duncan
kept his eyes fixed upon Annot with an expression of much deeper
interest than could have arisen from any impression that she was
a person of consequence. Annot even felt embarrassed under the old
knight's steady gaze; and it was not without considerable hesitation,
that, tuning her instrument, and receiving an assenting look from Lord
Menteith and Allan, she executed the following ballad, which our friend,
Mr. Secundus M'Pherson, whose goodness we had before to acknowledge, has
thus translated into the English tongue:

THE ORPHAN MAID.

November's hail-cloud drifts away,
November's sunbeam wan
Looks coldly on the castle grey,
When forth comes Lady Anne.

The orphan by the oak was set,
Her arms, her feet, were bare,
The hail-drops had not melted yet,
Amid her raven hair.

"And, Dame," she said, "by all