ast of as the only women he had ever seen who were well
broke in and bitted to obedience; though, it must be owned, Miss Grizzy
Oldbuck was sometimes apt to jibb when he pulled the reins too tight.
The rest of his character must be gathered from the story, and we
dismiss with pleasure the tiresome task of recapitulation.

During the time of dinner, Mr. Oldbuck, actuated by the same curiosity
which his fellow-traveller had entertained on his account, made some
advances, which his age and station entitled him to do in a more direct
manner, towards ascertaining the name, destination, and quality of his
young companion.

His name, the young gentleman said, was Lovel.

"What! the cat, the rat, and Lovel our dog? Was he descended from King
Richard's favourite?"

"He had no pretensions," he said, "to call himself a whelp of that
litter; his father was a north-of-England gentleman. He was at present
travelling to Fairport (the town near to which Monkbarns was situated),
and, if he found the place agreeable, might perhaps remain there for
some weeks."

"Was Mr. Lovel's excursion solely for pleasure?"

"Not entirely."

"Perhaps on business with some of the commercial people of Fairport?"

"It was partly on business, but had no reference to commerce."

Here he paused; and Mr. Oldbuck, having pushed his inquiries as far
as good manners permitted, was obliged to change the conversation. The
Antiquary, though by no means an enemy to good cheer, was a determined
foe to all unnecessary expense on a journey; and upon his companion
giving a hint concerning a bottle of port wine, he drew a direful
picture of the mixture, which, he said, was usually sold under that
denomination, and affirming that a little punch was more genuine and
better suited for the season, he laid his hand upon the bell to order
the materials. But Mackitchinson had, in his own mind, settled their
beverage otherwise, and appeared bearing in his hand an immense double
quart bottle, or magnum, as it is called in Scotland, covered with
saw-dust and cobwebs, the warrants of its antiquity.

"Punch!" said he, catching that generous sound as he entered the
parlour, "the deil a drap punch ye'se get here the day, Monkbarns, and
that ye may lay your account wi'."

"What do you mean, you impudent rascal?"

"Ay, ay, it's nae matter for that--but do you mind the trick ye served me
the last time ye were here!"

"I trick you!"

"Ay, just yoursell, Monkbarns. The La