"Are ye sure the parlour's ready for them, and the fire burning clear, and the chimney no smoking?" said the hostess to a chambermaid. She was answered in the affirmative.--"Ane wadna be uncivil to them, especially in their distress," said she, turning to the Deacon. "Assuredly not, Mrs. Mac-Candlish; assuredly not. I am sure ony sma' thing they might want frae my shop, under seven, or eight, or ten pounds, I would book them as readily for it as the first in the country.--Do they come in the auld chaise?" "I dare say no," said the precentor; "for Miss Bertram comes on the white powny ilka day to the kirk--and a constant kirk-keeper she is--and it's a pleasure to hear her singing the psalms, winsome young thing." "Ay, and the young Laird of Hazlewood rides hame half the road wi' her after sermon," said one of the gossips in company; "I wonder how auld Hazlewood likes that." "I kenna how he may like it now," answered another of the tea-drinkers; "but the day has been when Ellangowan wad hae liked as little to see his daughter taking up with their son." "Ay, has been," answered the first, with somewhat of emphasis. "I am sure, neighbour Ovens," said the hostess, "the Hazlewoods of Hazlewood, though they are a very gude auld family in the county, never thought, till within these twa score o' years, of evening themselves till the Ellangowans--Wow, woman, the Bertrams of Ellangowan are the auld Dingawaies lang syne--there is a sang about ane o' them marrying a daughter of the King of Man; it begins-- "Blythe Bertram's ta'en him ower the faem, To wed a wife, and bring her hame-- I daur say Mr. Skreigh can sing us the ballant." "Gudewife," said Skreigh, gathering up his mouth, and sipping his tiff of brandy punch with great solemnity, "our talents were gien us to other use than to sing daft auld sangs sae near the Sabbath day." "Hout fie, Mr. Skreigh; I'se warrant I hae heard you sing a blythe sang on Saturday at e'en before now.--But as for the chaise, Deacon, it hasna been out of the coachhouse since Mrs. Bertram died, that's sixteen or seventeen years sin syne--. Jock Jabos is away wi' a chaise of mine for them;--I wonder he's no come back. It's pit mirk [*Pitch dark]--but there's no an ill turn on the road but twa, and the brigg ower Warroch burn is safe eneugh, if he baud to the right side. But then there's Heavieside-brae, that's just a murder for post-cattle--but Jock kens the road brawly." [*Very well] A loud rapping was heard at the door. "That's no them. I dinna hear the wheels.--Grizzel, ye limmer, gang to the door." "It's a single gentleman," whined out Grizzel; "maun I take him into the parlour?" "Foul be in your feet, then; it'll be some English rider. Coming without a servant at this time o' night!--Has the ostler ta'en the horse?--Ye may light a spunk o' fire in the red room." "I wish, ma'am," said the traveller, entering the kitchen, "you would give me leave to warm myself here, for the night is very cold."