proach, had hastily
bestowed upon her goodly person the additional recommendation of a clean
cap and apron; and, still tying the apron-strings, ran bustling to the
door, smiling, colouring, and courtesying, and courtesying and colouring
again, to the yet unopened chaise. Poor soul! she knew not well how to
behave--it was an epoch in her annals of innkeeping. At length the
coachman, opening the door, handed out a lady in widow's weeds. A
beautiful, golden-haired child, apparently not exceeding five years of
age, sprang to the ground without assistance, and grasped her extended
hand. "What an image o' beauty!" exclaimed some half-dozen bystanders,
as the fair child lifted her lovely face of smiles to the eyes of her
mother. The lady stepped feebly towards the inn, and though the
landlady's heart continued to practise a sort of fluttering motion,
which communicated a portion of its agitation to her hands, she waited
upon her unexpected and unusual guests with a kindliness and humility
that fully recompensed for the expertness of a practised waiter. About
half an hour after the arrival of her visitors, she was seen bustling
from the door, her face, as the villagers said, bursting with
importance. They were still in groups about their doors, and in the
middle of the little street, discussing the mysterious arrival; and, as
she hastened on her mission, she was assailed with a dozen such
questions as these--"Wat ye wha she is?" "Is she ony great body?" "Hae
ye ony guess what brought her here?" and, "Is yon bonny creature her ain
bairn?" But to these and sundry other interrogatories, the important
hostess gave for answer, "Hoot, I hae nae time to haver the noo." She
stopped at a small, but certainly the most genteel house in the village,
occupied by a Mrs. Douglas, who, in the country phrase, was a very
douce, decent sort of an old body, and the widow of a Cameronian
minister. In the summer season Mrs. Douglas let out her little parlour
to lodgers, who visited the village to seek health, or for a few weeks'
retirement. She was compelled to do this from the narrowness of her
circumstances; for, though she was a "clever-handed woman," as her
neighbours said, "she had a sair fecht to keep up an appearance onyway
like the thing ava." In a few minutes Mrs. Douglas, in a clean cap, a
muslin kerchief round her neck, a quilted black bombazine gown, and
snow-white apron, followed the landlady up to the inn. In a short time
she returned,