something of physic myself; and our
friend Lady Maclaughlan, who, I daresay, will be here presently, is
perfect mistress of every disease of the human frame."

"Clap a cauld potatae to the brute's tae," cried the old
Laird gruffly.

"I've a box of her scald ointment that will cure it in a minute."

"If it don't cure, it will kill," said Mr. Douglas, with a smile.

"Brother," said Miss Jacky, rising with dignity from her chair, and
waving her hand as she spoke-"brother, I appeal to you to protect the
character of this most amiable, respectable matron from the insults and
calumny your son thinks proper to load it with. Sir Sampson Maclaughlan
is your friend, and it therefore becomes your duty to defend his wife."

"Troth, but I'll hae aneugh to do if I am to stand up for a' my friends'
wives," said the old gentleman. "But, however, Archie, you are to blame:
Leddy Maclaughlan is a very decent woman--at least, as far as I
ken--though she is a little free in the gab; and out of respect to my
auld friend Sir Sampson, it is my desire that you should remain here to
receive him, and that you trait baith him and his Lady discreetly."

This was said in too serious a tone to be disputed, and his son was
obliged to submit.

The ointment meanwhile having been applied to Psyche's paw, peace
was restored, and breakfast, recommenced.

"I declare our dear niece has not tasted a morsel," observed Miss Nicky.

"Bless me, here's charming barley meal scones," cried one, thrusting a
plateful of them before her. "Here's tempting pease bannocks,"
interposed another, "and oat cakes. I'm sure your Ladyship never saw
such cakes."

"I can't eat any of those things," said their delicate niece, with an
air of disgust. "I should like some muffin and chocolate."

"You forget you are not in London, my love," said her husband
reproachfully.

"No indeed, I do not forget it. Well then, give me some toast," with an
air of languid condescension.

"Unfortunately, we happen be quite out of loaf bread at present," said
Miss Nicky; "but we've sent to Drymsine for some. They bake excellent
bread at Drymsine."

"Is there nothing within the bounds of possibility you would fancy,
Julia?" asked Douglas. "Do think, love."

"I think I should like some grouse, or a beefsteak, if it was very
nicely done," returned her Ladyship in a languishing tone.

"Beef-steak!" repeated Miss Grizzy.

"Beef-steak!" responded Miss Jacky.

"Beef-steak!" reverberate