ovel bethought him of paying the requested visit to his
fellow-traveller. He did not make it earlier, because, with all the old
gentleman's good-humour and information, there had sometimes glanced
forth in his language and manner towards him an air of superiority,
which his companion considered as being fully beyond what the difference
of age warranted. He therefore waited the arrival of his baggage from
Edinburgh, that he might arrange his dress according to the fashion
of the day, and make his exterior corresponding to the rank in society
which he supposed or felt himself entitled to hold.

It was the fifth day after his arrival, that, having made the necessary
inquiries concerning the road, he went forth to pay his respects at
Monkbarns. A footpath leading over a heathy hill, and through two
or three meadows, conducted him to this mansion, which stood on the
opposite side of the hill aforesaid, and commanded a fine prospect of
the bay and shipping. Secluded from the town by the rising ground, which
also screened it from the north-west wind, the house had a solitary, and
sheltered appearance. The exterior had little to recommend it. It was an
irregular old-fashioned building, some part of which had belonged to a
grange, or solitary farm-house, inhabited by the bailiff, or steward,
of the monastery, when the place was in possession of the monks. It
was here that the community stored up the grain, which they received
as ground-rent from their vassals; for, with the prudence belonging to
their order, all their conventional revenues were made payable in kind,
and hence, as the present proprietor loved to tell, came the name of
Monkbarns. To the remains of the bailiff's house, the succeeding
lay inhabitants had made various additions in proportion to the
accommodation required by their families; and, as this was done with
an equal contempt of convenience within and architectural regularity
without, the whole bore the appearance of a hamlet which had suddenly
stood still when in the act of leading down one of Amphion's, or
Orpheus's, country dances. It was surrounded by tall clipped hedges of
yew and holly, some of which still exhibited the skill of the topiarian
artist,* and presented curious arm-chairs, towers, and the figures of
Saint George and the Dragon.

* Ars Topiaria, the art of clipping yew-hedges into fantastic figures.
A Latin poem, entitled Ars Topiaria, contains a curious account of the
process.

The taste