e corporation hall. In a few minutes
more she arrived; and, having got admittance, placed herself in a
recess, where the incorporation box was deposited, and so disposed
herself as that she might see whether any person interfered with the
treasury. In a short time Deacon Waldie entered the hall, and, with
secret furtive steps, approached the box. He looked about him, but did
not perceive the dame, who, as she saw him approach, retired back
farther into the recess. He took out the key, and applied it to the
lock. It was now time for Mrs Todd to save her husband. Starting
quickly out of the recess, she walked solemnly and dignifiedly up to
the official, before whom she presented herself with a low curtsey.

"How are you, Mr Deacon Waldie?" said she, repeating her curtsey, and
looking at him with an eye that pierced him to the heart.

The deacon, who was a great stickler for etiquette, felt himself, as
he saw the dame curtseying before him, compelled to return the
compliment; but the consciousness of guilt, the cutting satire of the
dame's courteous demeanour, the surprise at seeing her there, and his
fear of being exposed, all operated so strongly, that his bow was
checked, and transformed into a low cringe, making him appear only
half his natural size; while the consciousness of rectitude, and the
superiority of virtue, swelled out the breast of his silent accuser,
and added apparently to her physical proportions. Recovering himself
in some degree--

"I was just about to examine our corporation papers," said he,
irresolutely. "I like to assist Mr Todd in his _official_ capacity,
while _you_ keep him right in his _private_ affairs."

"Between the twa," replied the dame, without changing her countenance,
"he maun be weel taen care o'."

As she said this, she quietly and deliberately took the key out of the
lock; and into a large red cloth pocket, which hung alongside of a
pair of scissors, with which the deacon was already well acquainted
(having tested their sharpness), she deposited the important
instrument. She then made another low curtsey.

"Guid-day to ye, Mr Deacon Waldie!" she said, as she departed; "mak my
best respects to Mrs Deacon Waldie, and to her worthy father."

The deacon stood stiff with amazement, looking after the erect,
dignified figure of Mrs Jean Todd, as she walked slowly along the hall
of the incorporation to the door.

He skulked off in the best way he could; but she, with erect body and