a hundred pipers an' a', an' a',
We'll up an' gie them a blaw, a blaw,
Wi' a hundred pipers an' a', an' a'!'

Susanna ushered in Mr. Macdonald and Dr. Moncrieffe as the last 'blaw'
faded into silence, and Jean Dalziel came upstairs to say that they
could seldom get a quiet moment for family prayers, because we
were always at the piano, hurling incendiary sentiments into the
air,--sentiments set to such stirring melodies that no one could resist
them.

"We are very sorry, Miss Dalziel," I said penitently. "We reserve an
hour in the morning and another at bedtime for your uncle's prayers,
but we had no idea you had them at afternoon tea, even in Scotland. I
believe that you are chaffing, and came up only to swell the chorus.
Come, let us all sing together from 'Dumfounder'd the English saw.'"

Mr. Macdonald and Dr. Moncrieffe gave such splendid body to the music,
and Jean such warlike energy, that Salemina waved her paper-knife in a
manner more than ever sanguinary, and Susanna, hesitating outside the
door for sheer delight, had to be coaxed in with the tea-things. On the
heels of the tea-things came the Dominie, another dear old friend of six
weeks' standing; and while the doctor sang 'Jock o' Hazeldean' with
such irresistible charm that we all longed to elope with somebody on the
instant, Salemina dispensed buttered toast, marmalade sandwiches,
and the fragrant cup. By this time we were thoroughly cosy, and Mr.
Macdonald made himself and us very much at home by stirring the fire;
whereupon Francesca embarrassed him by begging him not to touch it
unless he could do it properly, which, she added, seemed quite unlikely,
from the way in which he handled the poker.

"What will Edinburgh do without you?" he asked, turning towards us with
flattering sadness in his tone. "Who will hear our Scotch stories, never
suspecting their hoary old age? Who will ask us questions to which we
somehow always know the answers? Who will make us study and reverence
anew our own landmarks? Who will keep warm our national and local pride
by judicious enthusiasm?"

"I think the national and local pride may be counted on to exist without
any artificial stimulants," dryly observed Francesca, whose spirit is
not in the least quenched by approaching departure.

"Perhaps," answered the Reverend Ronald; "but at any rate, you,
Miss Monroe, will always be able to reflect that you have never been
responsible even for its momentary inflation!"