We the undersigned hereby declare that we have in the presence of the above signatories and of each other seen the foregoing signatures appended to this deed by the signatories themselves in our presence and in the presence of each other. Alexander Fenwick (Sheriff of Galloway). Lucius Ogilvie (father of the bride). Mary Hayes Ogilvie (mother of the bride). Bedelia Ann O’Brien, widow (formerly nurse and foster mother to the bridegroom). Judith Hayes (aunt of the bride).” When the document was completed by the signatures the Sheriff, having first scanned it carefully, offered it to Colonel Ogilvie, who raising a protesting hand said: “No, no, Mr. Sheriff! I think we should all prefer that it should be kept in your custody, if you will so oblige us.” “With the greatest pleasure” he said; and Athlyne and Joy having consented to the scheme he folded the document and put it into his pocket. Just then the landlady, having knocked and being bidden to enter, came into the room followed by several maids and men bearing dishes. “And now to breakfast” he went on. “Will the Bride kindly sit on my right hand, with her Husband next her. Mrs. Ogilvie, will you honour me by sitting on my left, with Colonel Ogilvie to support you on the other side. Miss Hayes will you kindly sit on Lord Athlyne’s right.” “And Mrs. … Mrs. O’Brien,” whispered Judy. He went on: “Mrs. O’Brien will you sit on Colonel Ogilvie’s left.” “’Deed an’ I’ll not!” said the Irishwoman sturdily. “Do you mean” asked Colonel Ogilvie icily “that you do not care to sit next to me individually?” “Faix an’ I don’t mane anything so foolish yer ’ann’r. Why should the likes o’ me dar to object to the likes iv you? All I mane, sorr, is that an ould Biddy like me isn’t fit to sit down alongside the quality--let alone an Earrll and his Laady whose unborn childher I’m to nurse. An’, more betoken, on such an owdacious occasion--shure an I don’t mane that but such a suspicious occasion.” “Mrs. O’Brien ma’am” said the Sheriff taking her hand “you’re going, I hope to take your place at the table that all these good friends wish you to take.” “In troth no yer”--whispering to Joy “what’s a Sheriff called Miss Joy? Is he ‘yer Majesty’ or ‘me lord’ or ‘yer ann’r’ or what is he anyhow?” “I think he is ‘yer honour’” said Joy. So Mrs. O’Brien continued: “Yer Ann’r. Don’t ask me fur to sit down wid the quality where I don’t belong. But let me give a hand to these nice girrls and byes to shling the hash. Shure it’s a stewardess I am, an accustomed to shovin’ the food.” “Nanny” said Athlyne kindly but in a strong voice “we all want you to sit at table with us to-day. And I hope you won’t refuse us that pleasure.” “Certainly me darlin’ lord!” she said instantly. “In coorse what plases ye!” The Master had spoken; she was content to obey without question. In the meantime Joy had been whispering to her mother who now spoke out: