licably at the back of her
chair. The moment she moved her head, her attention was claimed by a
pair of tremulous gouty old hands, offering her a grouse pie, profusely
sprinkled with truffles.

"Eh, my bonny Miss!" whispered a persuasive voice at her ear, "ye're
joost stairving in a land o' plenty. Tak' my advice, and ye'll tak' the
best thing at tebble--groose-poy, and trufflers."

Blanche looked up.

There he was--the man of the canny eye, the fatherly manner, and the
mighty nose--Bishopriggs--preserved in spirits and ministering at the
festival at Swanhaven Lodge!

Blanche had only seen him for a moment on the memorable night of the
storm, when she had surprised Anne at the inn. But instants passed in
the society of Bishopriggs were as good as hours spent in the company of
inferior men. Blanche instantly recognized him; instantly called to
mind Sir Patrick's conviction that he was in possession of Anne's
lost letter; instantly rushed to the conclusion that, in discovering
Bishopriggs, she had discovered a chance of tracing Anne. Her first
impulse was to claim acquaintance with him on the spot. But the eyes of
her neighbors were on her, warning her to wait. She took a little of the
pie, and looked hard at Bishopriggs. That discreet man, showing no sign
of recognition on his side, bowed respectfully, and went on round the
table.

"I wonder whether he has got the letter about him?" thought Blanche.

He had not only got the letter about him--but, more than that, he was
actually then on the look-out for the means of turning the letter to
profitable pecuniary account.

The domestic establishment of Swanhaven Lodge included no formidable
array of servants. When Mrs. Delamayn gave a large party, she depended
for such additional assistance as was needed partly on the contributions
of her friends, partly on the resources of the principal inn at
Kirkandrew. Mr. Bishopriggs, serving at the time (in the absence of any
better employment) as a supernumerary at the inn, made one among the
waiters who could be spared to assist at the garden-party. The name of
the gentleman by whom he was to be employed for the day had struck him,
when he first heard it, as having a familiar sound. He had made his
inquiries; and had then betaken himself for additional information, to
the letter which he had picked up from the parlor floor at Craig Fernie.

The sheet of note-paper, lost by Anne, contained, it may be remembered,
two letters--o