“Do you see how he wants to get off?” said Vyner; “like certain capricious ladies, he’d like to see all the wares in the shop, and buy nothing.” “I fancy it’s pretty much what he has done already,” said Georgina, in a half whisper; but the butler put an end to the discussion by announcing that Mr. M’Kinlay had just arrived. “Shall we go into the drawing-room?” said Georgina to her sister. “If you like; but he’ll certainly come in to tea,” was the answer. “Well, it is at least a reprieve,” said she, with a dreary sigh; and they retired. As they left by one door, Mr. M’Kinlay entered the room by the other. After a cordial greeting, Sir Gervais presented him to Sir Within, and began to question him about his journey. “Well, Sir Gervais,” said he, after a long-drawn breath, “it is no exaggeration if I say, that I have not another client in the world for whom I would undergo the same fatigues, not to say dangers.” “My friend Mr. M’Kinlay has been on an excursion of some peril, and much hardship,” said Sir Vyner to Sir Within. “Ah! In Canada, I presume.” “No, Sir,” resumed M’Kinlay, “far worse--infinitely worse than Canada.” “You speak of Newfoundland, perhaps?” “Excuse me, Sir, I mean Ireland, and not merely Ireland itself--though I believe a glutton in barbarism might satiate himself there--but, worse again, Sir--I have been over to visit some islands, wretched rocks without vegetation--well would it be, could I say without inhabitants--off the west coast, and in, actually in the wild Atlantic Ocean!” “The Arran Islands,” interposed Vyner, who saw that Sir Within was doubtful of the geography. “Yes, Sir; had they called them the Barren Islands there would have been some fitness in the designation.” Mr. M’Kinlay appeared the better of his very email drollery, and drank off a bumper of claret, which also seemed to do him good. “And was the estate you wished to purchase in these wild regions?” asked Sir Within. “No; my friend’s mission to Arran was only remotely connected with the purchase. In fact, he went in search of an old friend of mine, whose assistance I needed, and whose caprice it was to retire to that desolate spot, and leave a world in which he might have made a very conspicuous figure. I am not art liberty to tell his name, though, perhaps, you might never have heard it before. M’Kinlay will, however, give us an account of his reception, and all that he saw there.”