thou require?" asked the lady, with a tremulous
voice.

"Twunty pund, my leddy, twenty pund at the present time," answered
Geordie, with the same simple look; "ye ken the folk haud me for a
natural, and ower fu' a cup is no easy carried, even by the wise. Sae, I
wadna like to trust mysel' wi' mair than twenty pund at a time."

Without saying a word, Lady Maitland went, with trembling steps, and a
hurried and confused manner, to her bureau: she took out her keys--tried
one, then another, and, with some difficulty, at last got it opened. She
counted out twenty pounds, and handed it over to Geordie, who counted it
again with all the precision of a modern banker.

"Thank ye, my leddy," said Geordie; "an' whan I need mair, I'll just tak
the liberty o' makin yer leddyship my banker. Guid day, my leddy." And,
with a low bow, reaching nearly to the ground, he departed.

The result of this interview satisfied Geordie that what he had
suspected was true. Sir Marmaduke had not yet returned, and his lady,
having been unfaithful to him, and given birth to a child, had resolved
upon putting it out of the way, in the manner already detailed. He had
no doubt that the lady thought the child was dead; and he did not wish,
in the meantime, to disturb that notion; for, although he knew that the
circumstance of the child being alive would give him greater power over
her, in the event of her becoming refractory, he was apprehensive that
she would not have allowed the child to remain in his keeping; and
might, in all likelihood, resort to some desperate scheme to destroy it.

On returning home, Geordie drew his seat to the fire, and sat silent.
His mother, who was sitting opposite to him, asked him if he had earned
any money that day, wherewith he could buy some clothes for the child he
had undertaken to bring up. With becoming gravity, and without appearing
to feel that any remarkable change had taken place upon his finances,
Geordie slowly put his hand into his pocket, drew out the twenty pounds,
and gave his mother one for interim expenditure. As he returned the
money into his pocket, he said, with an air of the most supreme
nonchalance, "If ye want ony mair, ye can let me ken."

The mother and daughter looked at each other with surprise and
astonishment, mixed with some pleasure, and, perhaps, some apprehension.
Neither of them put any question as to where the money had been got; for
Geordie's look had already informed them that any