of Memory had appeared at the Muckley, and Miss Ailie admits
having given him half-a-crown to explain his system to her. But when he
was gone she could not remember whether you multiplied everything by ten
before dividing by five and subtracting a hundred, or began by dividing
and doing something underhand with the cube root. Then Mr. Dishart, who
had a microscope, wanted his boy to be taught science, and several
experiments were described at length in the book, one of them dealing
with a penny, _H_, and a piston, _X Y_, and you do things to the piston
"and then the penny comes to the surface." "But it never does," Miss
Ailie wrote sorrowfully; perhaps she was glad when Master Dishart was
sent to another school.

"Though I teach the girls the pianoforte I find that I cannot stretch my
fingers as I used to do. Kitty used to take the music, and I often
remember this suddenly when superintending a lesson. It is a pain to me
that so many wish to acquire 'The Land o' the Leal,' which Kitty sang so
often to I---- M---- at Magenta Cottage."

Even the French, of which Miss Ailie had once been very proud, was
slipping from her. "Kitty and I kept up our French by translating
I---- M----'s letters and comparing our versions, but now that this
stimulus is taken away I find that I am forgetting my French. Or is it
only that I am growing old? too old to keep school?" This dread was
beginning to haunt Miss Ailie, and the pages between which the
blotting-paper lay revealed that she had written to the editor of the
_Mentor_ asking up to what age he thought a needy gentlewoman had a
right to teach. The answer was not given, but her comment on it told
everything. "I asked him to be severely truthful, so that I cannot
resent his reply. But if I take his advice, how am I to live? And if
I do not take it, I fear I am but a stumbling-block in the way of true
education."

That is a summary of what Mr. McLean read in the blue and white book;
remember, you were warned not to expect much. And Tommy and Gavinia
listened, and Tommy said, "I hear no laughing," and Gavinia answered,
"But he has quieted down," and upstairs Miss Ailie was on her knees. A
time came when Mr. McLean could find something to laugh at in that
little pass-book, but it was not then, not even when he reached the end.
He left something on the last page instead. At least I think it must
have been he: Miss Ailie's tears could not have been so long a-drying.

You may rise, now,