n their recollection.

In the middle of this, Flucker Johnstone came hastily in from the Old
Town and told them he had seen the wife, Beeny Liston, coming through
from Granton.

The sympathy of all was instantly turned in this direction.

"She would hear the news."

"It would fall on her like a thunderclap."

"What would become of her?"

Every eye was strained toward the Old Town, and soon the poor woman was
seen about to emerge from it; but she was walking in her usual way, and
they felt she could not carry her person so if she knew.

At the last house she was seen to stop and speak to a fisherman and his
wife that stood at their own door.

"They are telling her," was then the cry.

Beeny Liston then proceeded on her way.

Every eye was strained.

No! they had not told her.

She came gayly on, the unconscious object of every eye and every heart.

The hands of this people were hard, and their tongues rude, but they
shrunk from telling this poor woman of her bereavement--they thought
it kinder she should know it under her own roof, from her friends or
neighbors, than from comparative strangers.

She drew near her own door.

And now a knot collected round Christie Johnstone, and urged her to
undertake the sad task.

"You that speak sa learned, Christie, ye should tell her; we daur na."

"How can I tell her?" said Christie, turning pale. "How will I tell her?
I'se try."

She took one trembling step to meet the woman.

Beeny's eye fell upon her.

"Ay! here's the Queen o' Newhaven," cried she, in a loud and rather
coarse voice. "The men will hae ta leave the place now y' are turned
fisherman, I daur say."

"Oh, dinna fieicht on me! dinna fieicht on me!" cried Christie,
trembling.

"Maircy on us," said the other, "auld Flucker Johnstone's dochter turned
humble. What next?"

"I'm vexed for speaking back till ye the morn," faltered Christie.

"Hett," said the woman carelessly, "let yon flea stick i' the wa'. I
fancy I began on ye. Aweel, Cirsty," said she, falling into a friendlier
tone; "it's the place we live in spoils us--Newhaven's an impudent toon,
as sure as deeth.

"I passed through the Auld Toon the noo--a place I never speak in; an'
if they did na glower at me as I had been a strange beast.

"They cam' to their very doors to glower at me; if ye'll believe me, I
thoucht shame.

"At the hinder end my paassion got up, and I faced a wife East-by, and I
said, 'What gars ye glower at me t