Two--three--four efforts did Sir Arthur make at conversation, but they
all ended in sad failure. He wanted to say something about the crops,
but he did not remember the French for "oats;" he wished to speak of the
road, but he knew not the phrase for "grand jury;" he desired to make
some apology for a backward season, but he might as well have attempted
to write a Greek ode; and so he sat and smiled and waved his hand,
pointing out objects of interest, and interjectionally jerking
out, "Bons--braves--tres braves--but poor--pauvres--tres pauvres--light
soil--legere, you understand," and with a vigorous "hem" satisfied
himself that he had said something intelligible. After this no more
attempts at conversation were made; for the Major had quietly set his
companion down for an intense bore, and fell back upon his tobacco for
solace.

"La!" cried the Baronet, after a long silence--and he pointed with his
finger to a tall tower, over which a large flag was waving, about half
a mile away,--"La! Notre chateau--Lyle Abbey--moi;" and he tapped his
breast to indicate the personal interest that attached to the spot.

"Je vous en fais mes compliments," cried M'Caskey, who chuckled at
the idea of such quarters, and very eloquently went on to express the
infinite delight it gave him to cultivate relations with a family at
once so amiable and so distinguished. The happy hazard which brought
him was in reality another tie that bound him to the friendship of that
"cher Maitland." Delivered of this, the Major emptied his pipe, replaced
it in its case, and then, taking off his hat, ran his hands through his
hair, arranged his shirt-collar, and made two or three other efforts at
an improvised toilet.

"We are late--_en retard_--I think," said Sir Arthur, as they drew up at
the door, where two sprucely dressed servants stood to receive them. "We
dine--at eight--eight," said he, pointing to that figure on his watch.
"You 'll have only time to dress,--dress;" and he touched the lappet
of his coat, for he was fairly driven to pantomime to express himself.
"Hailes," cried he to a servant in discreet black, "show the Count to
his room, and attend to him; his own man has not come on, it seems," and
then, with many bows and smiles and courteous gestures, consigned his
distinguished guest to the care of Mr. Hailes, and walked hurriedly
upstairs to his own room.

"Such a day as I have had," cried he, as he entered the dressing-room,
where Lady