oursell, she seldom alters her fashions. Od,
she thinks her riding-habit dress eneugh for ony company; and if you
were ganging by good looks, so it is--if she had a thought mair colour,
poor dear."

"Well, well," said Mowbray, impatiently, "let me alone to reconcile a
woman and a fine dress."

"To be sure, ye ken best," said the writer; "but, after a', now, wad it
no be better to lay by this hundred pound in Tam Turnpenny's, in case
the young lady should want it afterhend, just for a sair foot?"

"You are a fool, Mick; what signifies healing a sore foot, when there
will be a broken heart in the case?--No, no--get the things as I desire
you--we will blaze them down for one day at least; perhaps it will be
the beginning of a proper dash."

"Weel, weel, I wish it may be so," answered Meiklewham; "but this young
Earl--hae ye found the weak point?--Can ye get a decerniture against
him, with expenses?--that is the question."

"I wish I could answer it," said Mowbray, thoughtfully.--"Confound the
fellow--he is a cut above me in rank and in society too--belongs to the
great clubs, and is in with the Superlatives and Inaccessibles, and all
that sort of folk.--My training has been a peg lower--but, hang it,
there are better dogs bred in the kennel than in the parlour. I am up to
him, I think--at least I will soon know, Mick, whether I am or no, and
that is always one comfort. Never mind--do you execute my commission,
and take care you name no names--I must save my little Abigail's
reputation."

They parted, Meiklewham to execute his patron's commission--his patron
to bring to the test those hopes, the uncertainty of which he could not
disguise from his own sagacity.

Trusting to the continuance of his run of luck, Mowbray resolved to
bring affairs to a crisis that same evening. Every thing seemed in the
outset to favour his purpose. They had dined together in Lord
Etherington's apartments--his state of health interfered with the
circulation of the bottle, and a drizzly autumnal evening rendered
walking disagreeable, even had they gone no farther than the private
stable where Lord Etherington's horses were kept, under the care of a
groom of superior skill. Cards were naturally, almost necessarily,
resorted to, as the only alternative for helping away the evening, and
piquet was, as formerly, chosen for the game.

Lord Etherington seemed at first indolently careless and indifferent
about his play, suffering advantages to