got
a' sorts o' braw claes and things ower the heid o't, and here it wis a'
a begunk. And a freend o' mine hed a husband oot aboot Canada somewhere,
and she got word o' his death, and she claimed the insurance, and got
verra braw blacks, and here wha should turn up but his lordship, as
leevin' as you or me! Eh, puir thing, she wis awfu' annoyed.... You be
carefu', Miss Jean, and see the colour o' yer money afore ye begin
giein' awa' hauf-croons instead o' pennies."

CHAPTER XIX

"O, I wad like to ken--to the beggar-wife says I--
Why chops are guid to brander and nane sae guid to fry,
An' siller, that's sae braw to get, is brawer still to gie.
--_It's gey an' easy speirin'_, says the beggar-wife to me."

R.L.S.

It is always easier for poor human nature to weep with those who weep
than to rejoice with those who rejoice. Into our congratulations to our
more fortunate neighbour we often manage to squeeze something of the
"hateful rind of resentment," forgetting that the cup of life is none
too sweet for any of us, and needs nothing of our bitterness added.

Jean had not an enemy in the world, almost everyone wished her well, but
in very few cases was there any marked enthusiasm about her inheritance.
"Ridiculous," was the most frequent comment: or "Fancy that little
thing!" It seemed absurd that such an unimportant person should have had
such a large thing happen to her.

Pamela was frankly disgusted with the turn things had taken. She had
intended giving Jean such a good time; she had meant to dress her and
amuse her and settle her in life. Peter Reid had destroyed all her
plans, and Jean would never now be dependent on her for the pleasures of
life.

She wrote to her brother:

"Jean seems to be one of the people that all sorts of odd things happen
to, and now fortune has played one of her impish tricks and Jean has
become a very considerable heiress. And I was there, oddly enough, when
the god in the car alighted, so to speak, at The Rigs.

"One afternoon, just after I came to Priorsford, I went in after tea and
found the Jardines entertaining a shabby-looking elderly man. They were
all so very nice to him that I thought he must be some old family
friend, but it turned out that none of them had seen him before that
afternoon. He had asked to look over the house, and told Jean that he
had lived in it as a boy, and Jean, remarking his rather shabby clothes
and frail appearance, jumped t