crammed like a Strasburg goose wi' the
_belles-lettres_. She will maybe never let ye within the door, but a
shilling a week of outdoor relief ye are sure of--for she sets up for
being full of the milk of human kindness. She set her cap at John Home
when he came home from London. She would never even allow that Davie
Hume was an atheist, whilk was as clear as that I hae a nose to my
face!---- Off with you to Fanny's at the Sciennes. And a long guid day to
the pair of ye--ye are a disobedient regardless lassock, and ye are
heapin' up wrath again the day of wrath, but for all that I'm no sayin'
that I'll forget you in my will! There are others I like waur nor you,
when all's said and done!"

"I would not take a penny of yours if I were starving on the street!"
cried Irma.

"Save us!" said the old lady, lifting up her black wand, "ye will maybe
think different when ye are real hungrysome. The streets are nae better
than they are caa'ed. But off wi' ye, and get honestly tied up! Bid
Samuel Whan shut the yett after ye!"

CHAPTER XXXI

TWICE MARRIED

Now I have never to this day been able to make up my mind whether the
Lady Kirkpatrick was really stirred with such anger as she pretended,
whether she was only more than a little mad, or if all was done merely
to break down Irma's reserve by playing on her anger and pride.

If the last was the cause of my lady's strange behaviour to us, it was
shiningly successful.

"We will not go a step to find my Lady Frances," said Irma when we were
outside; "if she be so full of all the wisdoms, she would very likely
try to separate us."

And certainly it was noways my business to make any objections. So,
hardly crediting my happiness, I went southwards over the Bridges, with
Irma by my side, my heart beating so rarely that I declare I could
hardly bethink me of a minister to make me sure of Irma before she had
time to change her mind. As was usual at that hour at the Surgeon's
Hall, we met Freddy Esquillant coming from the direction of Simon
Square. Him I sent off as quickly as he could to Rankeillor Street for
Amelia Craven. I felt that this was no less than Amelia's due, for many
a time and oft must she have been wearied with my sighs and
complaints--very suitable to the condition of a lover, but mightily
wearisome to the listener.

Irma said nothing. She seemed to be walking in a dream, and hardly
noticed Freddy--or yet the errand upon which I sent him.

It came to