in the right track to regain her
lodgings, for Flora, trusting to the pilotage of Jim, was perfectly
ignorant of the location.

This Highland Samaritan indignantly refused the piece of silver Flora
proffered in return for her services. "Hout, leddy! keep the siller! I
wudna' tak' aught fra' ye o' the Sabbath-day for a trifling act o'
courtesy--na, na, I come of too gude bluid for that!"

There was a noble simplicity about the honest-hearted woman, which was
not lost upon Flora.

"If I were not English," thought Flora, "I should like to be Scotch."

She looked rather crest-fallen, as she presented herself before her
Scotch husband, who laughed heartily over her misadventure, and did not
cease to tease her about her expedition to the mountain, as long as they
remained in its vicinity.

This did not deter her from taking a long stroll on the sands "o'
Leith," the next afternoon, with James, who delighted in these Quixotish
rambles; and was always on the alert, to join in any scheme which
promised an adventure. It was a lovely afternoon. The sun glittered on
the distant waters, which girdled the golden sands with a zone of blue
and silver. The air was fresh and elastic, and diffused a spirit of life
and joyousness around. Flora, as she followed the footsteps of her young
agile conductor, felt like a child again; and began to collect shells
and sea-weeds, with as much zest as she had done along her native coast,
in those far-off happy days, which at times returned to her memory like
some distinct, but distant dream.

For hours they wandered hither and thither, lulled by the sound of the
waters, and amused by their child-like employment; until Flora remarked,
that her footprints filled with water at each step, and the full deep
roaring of the sea gave notice of the return of the tide. Fortunately
they were not very far from the land; and oh, what a race they had to
gain the "Peir o' Leith," before they were overtaken by the waves. How
thankful they felt that they were safe, as the billows chased madly
past, over the very ground, which a few minutes before, they had so
fearlessly trod.

"This is rather worse than the mountain, mamma Flora," (a favourite name
with James for his friend Mrs. Lyndsay,) "and might have been fatal to
us both. I think Mr. Lyndsay would scold this time, if he knew our
danger."

"We won't quarrel on the score of prudence. But what is this?" said
Flora; and she stepped up to a blank wall, on