ding somehow a
little shelter in the dialect, "'at sic a dauchter could ill hae been
born to ony but a man 'at--weel, 'at wad at least behave til a wuman
like a man."

"Ye're i' the richt! He was the ten'erest-heartit man! But he was far
frae stoot, an' was a heap by himsel', nearhan' as mickle as his
lordship the present yerl. An' the lady was that prood, an' that
dewotit to the man she ca'd her ain, that never a word o' what gaed on
cam to the ears o' his brither, I daur to say, or I s' warran' ye there
wud hae been a fine steer! It cam, she said--my auld auntie said--o'
some kin' o' madness they haena a name for yet. I think mysel' there's
a madness o' the hert as weel 's o' the heid; an' i' that madness men
tak their women for a property o' their ain, to be han'led ony gait the
deevil puts intil them. Cries i' the deid o' the nicht, an' never a
shaw i' the mornin' but white cheeks an' reid een, tells its ain tale.
I' the en', the puir leddy dee'd, 'at micht hae lived but for him; an'
her bairnie dee'd afore her; an' the wrangs o' bairns an' women stick
lang to the wa's o' the universe! It was said she cam efter him
again;--I kenna; but I hae seen an' h'ard i' this hoose what--I s' haud
my tongue aboot!--Sure I am he wasna a guid man to the puir
wuman!--whan it comes to that, maister Grant, it's no my leddy an' mem,
but we're a' women thegither! She dee'dna i' this hoose, I un'erstan';
but i' the hoose doon i' the toon--though that's neither here nor
there. I wadna won'er but the conscience micht be waukin' up intil him!
Some day it maun wauk up. He'll be sorry, maybe, whan he kens himsel'
upo' the border whaur respec' o' persons is ower, an' a woman s' a guid
's a man--maybe a wheen better! The Lord 'll set a' thing richt, or
han' 't ower til anither!"

CHAPTER LIV.

LADY ARCTURA'S ROOM.

The next day, when he saw lady Arctura, Donal was glad to learn that,
for all the excitement of the day before, she had passed a good night,
and never dreamed at all.

"I've been thinking it all over, my lady," he said, "and it seems to me
that, if your uncle heard the noise of our plummet so near, the chimney
can hardly rise from the floor you searched; for that room, you know,
is half-way between the ground-floor and first floor. Still, sound does
travel so! We must betake ourselves to measurement, I fear.--But
another thing came into my head last night which may serve to give us a
sort of parallax. You said you hear