. Davie," says he, turning
half about with the one foot in the stirrup.

"I will never pretend sorrow," said I; and, to say the truth, during his
absence Miss Grant and I had been embellishing the place in fancy with
plantations, parterres, and a terrace, much as I have since carried out
in fact.

Thence we pushed to the Queensferry, where Rankeillor gave us a good
welcome, being indeed out of the body to receive so great a visitor.
Here the Advocate was so unaffectedly good as to go quite fully over my
affairs, sitting perhaps two hours with the Writer in his study, and
expressing (I was told) a great esteem for myself and concern for my
fortunes. To while this time, Miss Grant and I and young Rankeillor took
boat and passed the Hope to Limekilns. Rankeillor made himself very
ridiculous (and, I thought offensive) with his admiration for the young
lady, and to my wonder (only it is so common a weakness of her sex) she
seemed, if anything, to be a little gratified. One use it had: for when
we were come to the other side, she laid her commands on him to mind the
boat, while she and I passed a little further to the ale-house. This was
her own thought, for she had been taken with my account of Alison
Hastie, and desired to see the lass herself. We found her once more
alone--indeed, I believe her father wrought all day in the fields--and
she curtsied dutifully to the gentry-folk and the beautiful young lady
in the riding coat.

"Is this all the welcome I am to get?" said I, holding out my hand. "And
have you no more memory of old friends?"

"Keep me! wha's this of it?" she cried, and then, "God's truth, it's the
tautit[19] laddie!"

"The very same," says I.

"Mony's the time I've thocht upon you and your freen, and blythe am I to
see in your braws,"[20] she cried. "Though I kent ye were come to your
ain folk by the grand present that ye sent me and that I thank ye for
with a' my heart."

"There," said Miss Grant to me, "run out by with ye, like a good bairn.
I didnae come here to stand and hand a candle; it's her and me that are
to crack."

I suppose she stayed ten minutes in the house, but when she came forth I
observed two things--that her eyes were reddened, and a silver brooch
was gone out of her bosom. This very much affected me.

"I never saw you so well adorned," said I.

"O Davie man, dinna be a pompous gowk!" said she, and was more than
usually sharp to me the remainder of the day.

About candlelight