, the strange
old lady went on:

"And now we'll go down to the spence, where ye can meet Mr. Burns. And
because your father's a kent man in these parts and your own name
sounding through the country as well, I'll give out that ye're my
niece, and it's in that way ye can be known."

So, attended by Dickenson, carrying her many wraps and comforters, with
Nancy following, Mrs. McGillavorich entered upon Burns and his
companion, whom they found drinking and writing exactly as Nancy had
left them.

"I'd like to make you known to my niece, Miss McGillavorich," said Mrs.
Janet, advancing toward him. "From Edinburgh," she added.

He threw a hasty unconvinced glance at Nancy, but bowed low as one used
to gentle ways.

"I am new come from Edinburgh myself," he said, after presenting his
friend, whom he named Mr. Hamilton. "It's a braw town. Have ye lived
there long?" he asked.

"Some years," Nancy answered; "although I was not born there."

"There are fine country places all about it, too," he continued, "out
the Pentland way."

"Yes," she answered; "I've seen them."

"And do you know many people in the city? I've met in with some notable
folk on my sojourn there. The Monboddos, the Glencairns, and the
Gordons are grand people."

"I've heard their names," Nancy returned, in a non-committal way.

"They've been kind to me," he went on, with a bit of conceit in his
manner, "most kind. The ladies especially," he added.

"So?" said Nancy. "That must be very comforting to you," she added,
with a twinkle in her eye.

"It is," was the unexpected answer, given with a droll look. "And I
like to hear them sing my songs. Have ye heard Bonnie Dundee? It's not
printed yet."

"No," she answered, "but I could catch it. I sing a little. Could ye
sooth it to me, Mr. Burns?"

"Nay, nay," said Janet, "no music or singing yet; not till Mr. Burns
has given us something of his own. We'll have Dickenson brew us a bowl
of lemon punch, and we'll draw the curtains and gather the fire, and
Mr. Burns will line us the Cotter's Saturday Night, the sensiblest
thing writ for a long time, before ye sing us a song, my dear."

And the old lady being set, there was nothing to do but to abide her
way of it; and thus by the fire, with the elements raising a din
outside, the five of them listened to the great man, who was not too
great, however, to turn the whole battery of his compelling personality
upon Nancy Stair, nor to look at her from the u