shly scraped. The barber
himself she never saw, though once, when the door stood ajar, she caught a
glimpse of his white jacket and apron.

She believed that he entered into occupation at Michaelmas; at any rate,
he had been plying his trade for close on two months, when on November
17th, 1739, and at a quarter to three in the afternoon, Kirstie went down
to the Parliament Close to carry a packet of thread to Mr. Seton.
The packet was smaller than usual, for Mrs. Johnstone had not been able to
finish her weekly quantity; but this did not matter, since for a month
past she had made none that was saleworthy.

Now this Mr. Seton was a pleasant man, in age almost threescore, and full
of interest in Mrs. Johnstone, having done business for her and her
mother, the Lady Balgarnock, pretty well all his life. And so it often
happened that, while weighing the thread and making out his receipt for
it, he would invite Kirstie to his office, in the rear of the shop, and
discuss her mistress's health or some late news of the city, or advise her
upon any small difficulty touching which she made bold to consult him--as,
for instance, this pious deception in the matter of the thread.

But to-day in the midst of their discourse Kirstie felt a sudden
uneasiness. Explain it she could not. Yet there came to her a sense,
almost amounting to certainty, that Mrs. Johnstone was in trouble and had
instant need of her. She had left her but a few minutes, and in ordinary
health; there was no reason to be given for this apprehension.
Nevertheless, as I say, she felt it as urgent as though her mistress's own
voice were calling. Mr. Seton observed her change of colour, and broke
off his chat to ask what was amiss. She knew that if she stayed to
explain he would laugh at her for a silly fancy; and if it were more than
a fancy, why then to explain would be a loss of precious time.
Pleading, therefore, some forgotten duty, she left the good man hurriedly,
and hastening out through the shop ran across Parliament Close and up the
great staircase as fast as her legs could take her.

By the time she reached the fourth flight of stairs she began to feel
ashamed of the impulse which brought her, and to argue with herself
against it; but at the same time her ears were open and listening for any
unusual sound in the rooms above. There was no such sound until she had
mounted half-way up the sixth flight, when she heard a light footstep
cross the landi