her husband helped the company after the trout had been disposed of, came from the loch and the moor on Drumcarro estate, and therefore were as much home produce as the eggs and the cream. This fact elicited a somewhat sharp criticism from Miss Eelen at the foot of the table. “The grouse is no doubt very good,” she said, “and being to the manner born as ye may say, I never tire of it; but for a genteel supper like what you have always given to the lads--” “Faith,” said the laird, “they’ll find it most genteel where they’re going. The Englishmen will think it the finest table in the world when they hear we have grouse every day; and Robbie’s no bound to condescend upon the number of other dishes. I know what I am doing.” “No doubt, no doubt: I was only making a remark. Now I think a bit of cod from the sea or a made dish of fine collops, or just a something tossed up with a bit of veal, they’re more genteel--and I know that’s what you’re always thinking of, Neil--of course, for the boys’ sakes----” “There’s a made dish coming, mem,” said Merran, who was waiting. “Oh, there’s a made dish coming! I thought Marg’ret would mind what was for the credit of the house. Robbie, my man, ye ought to feel yourself a great personage with all the phrase that’s made for you. When Sandy went away, who was the first, there was nothing but a haggis--but we’ve learned many things since then.” “A haggis is a very good thing, it’s fit for a king’s table.” “But not what you would call refined, nor genteel. Give me the leg and a piece of the back--there’s more taste in it. I hope you will always be grateful to your father for giving ye such a grand set out.” “I think,” said the minister at the other end, “that you and Drumcarro, mem, give yourselves more and more trouble every son that leaves ye. This is the fifth I have seen.” “Oh, don’t say me, Mr. Pyper,” said the mother. “I know just nothing about it--when your son’s going away, and ye think ye may never set eyes on him again, who’s to think of eating and drinking? He may do it, but not me.” “That’s very true,” said Mr. Pyper. “Still, to give the lad a something pleasurable to look back upon, a last feast, so to speak, has many points in its favour. A lad’s mind is full of materialism, as you may call it, and he will mind all the faces round the friendly board.” “It’s not very friendly to me,” said the mother, with a sob, “my four bonny boys all away, and now Robbie. It just breaks my heart.” “But what would you do with them, mem, if they were here?” said the sensible minister; “four big men, for they’re all men by this time, about the house? No, no, my dear leddy, you must not complain. Such fine openings for them all! and every one getting on.” “But what does that matter to me, Mr. Pyper, if I am never to see one of them again?”