The next day a grand garden party was given at Glencairn Hall. All Edinburgh was invited, and they came eagerly to see the great poet, who was on the eve of leaving the social world to retire to his farm in Ayrshire, and to see Highland Mary, the dainty, flower-like sweetheart of their idol. The grounds looked very bright and gay. Refreshment booths of red and white canvas were dotted here and there on the smooth velvet lawns. Bright flags of all nations waved from different parts of the gardens—signals of putting, archery, and dancing—and the seductive music of the Queen’s theater orchestra rose up and joined the songs of birds and the tinkle of the fountains in full play. Girls in light summer costumes were grouped picturesquely beneath the stately oaks and beeches. Gay laughter echoed from the leafy shrubberies, and stray couples were seen sauntering carelessly through the rose gardens, too much absorbed in each other to notice what was going on around them. Presently out of the same rose garden a man walked hurriedly, followed by a woman, who quickly overtook him, to his perceptible annoyance. They were Sir William Creech and Eppy McKay. Eppy looked exceedingly ugly in the full glare of the bright sun. She was dressed in a brilliant plaid gown, the style of which seemed to accentuate her angularity; and a huge Gainsborough hat was perched jauntily upon her towering court wig. Her small green eyes looked coquettishly at her irate companion. He stopped and glared at her fiercely. “But I desire to take a smoke,” he said wrathfully. “I don’t object to smoke, Sir William,” she tittered coyly. He looked about him wildly as if seeking some means of escape from his admirer. “But I wish to be alone,” he cried almost pleadingly. She opened her eyes and regarded him reproachfully. “Oh, you are joking, Sir William, but you cannot scare me away.” With a groan of despair he continued his walk, hoping to escape from his persistent admirer. “Great heavens! I’ll go daft yet,” he muttered as he perceived her close at his elbow. For a few minutes he puffed furiously at his pipe, casting angry glances from time to time at his unwelcome companion, who trotted along so contentedly at his side. Finally Sir William concluded that he could not elude her attentions for the time being, so decided to make the best of the infliction. “Do I go too fast for you?” he asked maliciously, as he heard her puffing away vigorously beside him. “No, indeed,” she replied with a little breathless giggle. “You couldn’t go too fast for me, for I am as light and quick on my feet as ever I was. In faith, why shouldn’t I be?” she continued gayly. “I am only 32. You see I am so much younger than you.” He snorted angrily. “Well, you don’t look it,” he retorted. She stopped short and looked at him in amazed indignation. “What?” she quavered, a little out of breath, “I don’t look younger than you?”