ty in answering her, even if he had known well what to say. But
as he had not determined what character he was to adopt while concealing
that which was properly his own, he had an additional reason for
remaining silent. Mrs. Wilson, in perplexity, and with some apprehension,
repeated her question.

"What were ye pleased to want wi' me, sir? Ye said ye kend Mr. Harry
Morton?"

"Pardon me, madam," answered Henry, "it was of one Silas Morton I spoke."
The old woman's countenance fell.

"It was his father, then, ye kent o', the brother o' the late Milnwood?
Ye canna mind him abroad, I wad think,--he was come hame afore ye were
born. I thought ye had brought me news of poor Maister Harry."

"It was from my father I learned to know Colonel Morton," said Henry; "of
the son I know little or nothing,--rumour says he died abroad on his
passage to Holland."

"That's ower like to be true," said the old woman with a sigh, "and mony
a tear it's cost my auld een. His uncle, poor gentleman, just sough'd awa
wi' it in his mouth. He had been gieing me preceeze directions anent the
bread and the wine and the brandy at his burial, and how often it was to
be handed round the company (for, dead or alive, he was a prudent,
frugal, painstaking man), and then he said, said he, 'Ailie,' (he aye
ca'd me Ailie; we were auld acquaintance), 'Ailie, take ye care and haud
the gear weel thegither; for the name of Morton of Milnwood 's gane out
like the last sough of an auld sang.' And sae he fell out o' ae dwam into
another, and ne'er spak a word mair, unless it were something we cou'dna
mak out, about a dipped candle being gude eneugh to see to dee wi'. He
cou'd ne'er bide to see a moulded ane, and there was ane, by ill luck, on
the table."

While Mrs. Wilson was thus detailing the last moments of the old miser,
Morton was pressingly engaged in diverting the assiduous curiosity of the
dog, which, recovered from his first surprise, and combining former
recollections, had, after much snuffing and examination, begun a course
of capering and jumping upon the stranger which threatened every instant
to betray him. At length, in the urgency of his impatience, Morton could
not forbear exclaiming, in a tone of hasty impatience, "Down, Elphin!
down, sir!"

"Ye ken our dog's name," said the old lady, struck with great and sudden
surprise,--"ye ken our dog's name, and it's no a common ane. And the
creature kens you too," she continued, in a more agitated