gill, recovering himself.

"Oh! Mr. Cargill," said Dame Dods, "this comes of your lang fasts."

"Right, dame," subjoined Mr. Touchwood; "and of breaking them with sour
milk and pease bannock--the least morsel of Christian food is rejected
by stomach, just as a small gentleman refuses the visit of a creditable
neighbour, lest he see the nakedness of the land--ha! ha!"

"And there is really a talk of Miss Mowbray of St Ronan's being
married?" said the clergyman.

"Troth is there," said the dame; "it's Trotting Nelly's news; and though
she likes a drappie, I dinna think she would invent a lee or carry
ane--at least to me, that am a gude customer."

"This must be looked to," said Mr. Cargill, as if speaking to himself.

"In troth, and so it should," said Dame Dods; "it's a sin and a shame if
they should employ the tinkling cymbal they ca' Chatterly, and sic a
Presbyterian trumpet as yoursell in the land, Mr. Cargill; and if ye
will take a fule's advice, ye winna let the multure be ta'en by your ain
mill, Mr. Cargill."

"True, true, good Mother Dods," said the Nabob; "gloves and hatbands are
things to be looked after, and Mr. Cargill had better go down to this
cursed festivity with me, in order to see after his own interest."

"I must speak with the young lady," said the clergyman, still in a brown
study.

"Right, right, my boy of black-letter," said the Nabob; "with me you
shall go, and we'll bring them to submission to mother-church, I warrant
you--Why, the idea of being cheated in such a way, would scare a Santon
out of his trance.--What dress will you wear?"

"My own, to be sure," said the divine, starting from his reverie.

"True, thou art right again--they may want to knit the knot on the spot,
and who would be married by a parson in masquerade?--We go to the
entertainment though--it is a done thing."

The clergyman assented, provided he should receive an invitation; and as
that was found at the Manse, he had no excuse for retracting, even if he
had seemed to desire one.

CHAPTER XVIII.

FORTUNE'S FROLICS.

_Count Basset._ We gentlemen, whose carriages run on the four aces,
are apt to have a wheel out of order.

_The Provoked Husband._

Our history must now look a little backwards; and although it is rather
foreign to our natural style of composition, it must speak more in
narrative, and less in dialogue, rather telling what happened, than its
effects upon the actors. Our purpose, h