His appearance, voice, and manner, produced an instantaneous effect in his favour. He was a handsome, tall, thin figure, dressed in black, as appeared when he laid aside his riding-coat; his age might be between forty and fifty; his cast of features grave and interesting, and his air somewhat military. Every point of his appearance and address bespoke the gentleman. Long habit had given Mrs. Mac-Candlish an acute tact in ascertaining the quality of her visitors, and proportioning her reception accordingly To every guest the appropriate speech was made, And every duty with distinction paid; Respectful, easy, pleasant, or polite--"Your honour's servant!--Mister Smith, good-night." On the present occasion, she was low in her curtsey, and profuse in her apologies. The stranger begged his horse might be attended to--she went out herself to school the hostler. "There was never a prettier bit o' horse-flesh in the stable o' the Gordon Arms," said the man; which information increased the landlady's respect for the rider. Finding, on her return, that the stranger declined to go into another apartment (which, indeed, she allowed, would be but cold and smoky till the fire bleezed up), she installed her guest hospitably by the fireside, and offered what refreshment her house afforded. "A cup of your tea, ma'am, if you will favour me." Mrs. Mac-Candlish bustled about, reinforced her teapot with hyson, and proceeded in her duties with her best grace. "We have a very nice parlour, sir, and everything very agreeable for gentlefolks; but it's bespoke the night for a gentleman and his daughter, that are going to leave this part of the country--ane of my chaises is gane for them, and will be back forthwith--they're no sae weel in the warld as they have been; but we're a' subject to ups and downs in this life, as your honour must needs ken--but is not the tobacco-reek disagreeable to your honour?" "By no means, ma'am; I am an old campaigner, and perfectly used to it.--Will you permit me to make some inquiries about a family in this neighbourhood?" The sound of wheels was now heard, and the landlady hurried to the door to receive her expected guests; but returned in an instant, followed by the postilion-- "No, they canna come at no rate, the Laird's sae ill." "But God help them," said the landlady, "the morn's the term--the very last day they can bide in the house--a' thing's to be roupit." [*Sold by auction] "Weel, but they can come at no rate, I tell ye--Mr. Bertram canna be moved." "What Mr. Bertram?" said the stranger; "not Mr. Bertram of Ellangowan, I hope?" "Just e'en that same, sir; and if ye be a friend o' his, ye have come at a time when he's sair bested." "I have been abroad for many years--is his health so much deranged?"