he old gray horse that was jined to the
Methodis, and kicked so high they put him in the museum."

"Corry," interrupted the still correct dominie, "I have no sympathy with
that rude song; but if you will quote it, please adhere to the original.
It was 'my old aunt Sal that was joined to the Methodists,' not the old
gray horse."

"Thanks, Wilks, thanks, I'll try and remember. Any more toast or jam,
old boy?"

"No, I have a superabundance of good things."

"Well, see you again, sometime when I have a chance. You're pretty well
guarded you know. Au revoir."

Coristine followed Mrs. Carruthers down stairs; while the dominie
sighed, and said: "It seems as if nothing will give that boy stability
of character and staidness of demeanour."

"Who is going to service to-night?" asked the Squire. Mrs. Carruthers
could not, because of the children; the doctor was unfit to walk; and
the colonel and Mrs. Du Plessis had so much to say to each other over
their dear boy that they desired to be excused. Mr. Bigglethorpe said
he was a church-going man, but hardly cared to air his green shade in
public; whereupon Mr. Terry volunteered to remain and smoke a pipe with
him. Mrs. Carmichael and her daughter signified their intention of
accompanying the Squire, and Mr. Lamb at once asked permission to join
them. Miss Halbert stated that she would like to go to week service, if
anybody else was going. Of course, the lawyer offered his escort, and
Miss Du Plessis and the Captain begged to be included. Thus, four of the
party set out for Mr. Perrowne's mid-week service, and four to Mr.
Errol's prayer meeting. Mr. Lamb did not get much out of Miss Carmichael
on the way, and Miss Halbert thought her escort unusually absent-minded.
Coming home, Mr. Perrowne deprived Coristine of his fair charge, and Mr.
Errol relieved the Squire of his sister. Accordingly, the freed
cavaliers drew together and conversed upon the events of the day. Good
Mr. Carruthers was startled, when the lawyer expressed his intention of
leaving in the morning, as he could be of no further use, and felt he
had already trespassed too long upon his generous hospitality.

"Noo, Coristine," he said, falling into his doric, "what ails ye, man,
at the lassie?"

"My dear Squire, I have none but the kindest and most grateful thoughts
towards all the ladies."

"Weel, weel, it's no for me to be spierin', but ye maun na gang awa
frae's on accoont o' yon daft haveral o' a Lamb."

"