keeping," I said; "do your
tenants ever take meals at the inn?"

"I cudna say, mam." (Dear, dear, the Crums are a large family!)

"If we did that, we should still need a servant to keep the house tidy,"
said Salemina, as we walked away. "Perhaps housemaids are to be had,
though not nearer than Edinburgh, I fancy."

This gave me an idea, and I slipped over to the post-office while
Salemina was preparing for dinner, and despatched a telegram to Mrs.
M'Collop at Breadalbane Terrace, asking her if she could send a reliable
general servant to us, capable of cooking simple breakfasts and caring
for a house.

We had scarcely finished our Scotch broth, fried haddies, mutton-chops,
and rhubarb tart when I received an answer from Mrs. M'Collop to the
effect that her sister's husband's niece, Jane Grieve, could join us
on the morrow if we desired. The relationship was an interesting fact,
though we scarcely thought the information worth the additional pennies
we paid for it in the telegram; however, Mrs. M'Collop's comfortable
assurance, together with the quality of the rhubarb tart and
mutton-chops, brought us to a decision. Before going to sleep we rented
the draper's house, named it Bide-a-Wee Cottage, engaged daily
luncheons and dinners for three persons at the Pettybaw Inn and Posting
Establishment, telegraphed to Edinburgh for Jane Grieve, to Callander
for Francesca, and despatched a letter to Paris for Mr. Beresford,
telling him we had taken a 'wee theekit hoosie,' and that the 'yett was
ajee' whenever he chose to come.

"Possibly it would have been wiser not send for them until we were
settled," I said reflectively. "Jane Grieve may not prove a suitable
person."

"The name somehow sounds too young and inexperienced," observed
Salemina, "and what association have I with the phrase 'sister's
husband's niece'?"

"You have heard me quote Lewis Carroll's verse, perhaps:--

'He thought he saw a buffalo
Upon the chimney-piece;
He looked again and found it was
His sister's husband's niece:
"Unless you leave the house," he said,
"I'll send for the police!"'

The only thing that troubles me," I went on, "is the question of Willie
Beresford's place of residence. He expects to be somewhere within easy
walking or cycling distance,--four or five miles at most."

"He won't be desolate even if he doesn't have a thatched roof, a
pansy garden, and a blossoming shrub," said Salemina sleepily, for our
busi