“How I wish I could have heard his speech to the masses,” she cried enthusiastically. “For I must confess, James, that no man’s conversation ever carried me off my feet so completely as that of Robert Burns.” “Indeed, my lady!” he retorted in mock alarm. “Then it behooves me to keep my eye on you hereafter.” She joined in the laugh that followed, then remarked audaciously, “But, I vow, a little flirtation is really most exhilarating now and then.” She flashed her brilliant eyes mockingly upon the horror-struck countenance of Eppy McKay. “How indiscreet!” exclaimed Eppy in amazement, “and you are a married woman, too.” “’Tis perfectly shocking, isn’t it?” mimicked her ladyship insolently. Eppy pursed her thin lips, while a little spot of color dyed her parchment-like cheeks. “Well, I do not approve of married women flirting,” she replied primly, and as she caught the look of amusement which passed between her ladyship and Mr. Mackenzie, she added sourly, “Especially in public.” “Oh! Then you do approve of it in private,” replied her ladyship sweetly, innocently opening her eyes to their widest. Eppy gave a gasp of horror. “Mercy, no!” she cried indignantly, “I should say not.” And she tossed her head in virtuous anger. “Robert Burns!” announced the footman at this juncture. There was a sudden hush, a movement of excitement, and the group around the door fell back, and everybody made way for the most important guest of the evening, who for the last hour had been the all-absorbing topic of conversation. Lady Glencairn started violently, as she heard the name announced. For a brief instant she closed her eyes, feeling faint, and trembling in an ecstasy of joy. He was here at last! Her heart throbbed so violently it stifled her. “How noble he looks!” exclaimed Eppy in an awestruck tone, as she watched the tall figure in a polite but determined manner coolly elbowing a passage among the heaving bare shoulders, fat arms, the long trains, and bulging bustles and paniers that seriously obstructed his way. “And to think that man is but a lowly-bred peasant,” observed Mr. Mackenzie, as he watched him bending low over the hand of their hostess. “A man’s a man, for all that!” murmured her ladyship, worshipful pride in her voice and in her dazzling eyes, as she watched him approach, bowing right and left. She drew herself up with the conscious air of a beauty who knows she is nearly perfect, and with a smile she extended her jeweled hand. “I’m so glad to see you here to-night,” she says sweetly, although a glance like fire seen through smoke leaps from beneath her silky eyelashes, but Robert saw it not; he was bending low over her fair hand. “Welcome back to Edinburgh!” she continued, pressing his hand warmly.