The year before she died, when in Edinburgh, she was at a Twelfth Night Supper at Scott’s, in Castle Street. The company had all come,--all but Marjorie. Scott’s familiars, whom we all know, were there,--all were come but Marjorie; and all were dull because Scott was dull. “Where’s that bairn? what can have come over her? I’ll go myself and see.” And he was getting up, and would have gone; when the bell rang, and in came Duncan Roy and his henchman Tougald, with the sedan chair, which was brought right into the lobby, and its top raised. And there, in its darkness and dingy old cloth, sat Maidie in white, her eyes gleaming, and Scott bending over her in ecstasy--“hung over her enamored.” “Sit ye there, my dautie, till they all see you”; and forthwith he brought them all. You can fancy the scene. And he lifted her up and marched to his seat with her on his stout shoulder, and set her down beside him; and then began the night, and such a night! Those who knew Scott best said, that night was never equalled; Maidie and he were the stars; and she gave them _Constance’s_ speeches and _Helvellyn_, the ballad then much in vogue, and all her _répertoire_,--Scott showing her off, and being ofttimes rebuked by her for his intentional blunders. We are indebted for the following--and our readers will be not unwilling to share our obligations--to her sister: “Her birth was 15th January, 1803; her death, 19th December, 1811. I take this from her Bibles.[3] I believe she was a child of robust health, of much vigor of body, and beautifully formed arms, and, until her last illness, never was an hour in bed. She was niece to Mrs. Keith, residing in No. 1 North Charlotte Street, who was _not_ Mrs. Murray Keith, although very intimately acquainted with that old lady. My aunt was a daughter of Mr. James Rae, surgeon, and married the younger son of old Keith of Ravelstone. Corstorphine Hill belonged to my aunt’s husband; and his eldest son, Sir Alexander Keith, succeeded his uncle to both Ravelstone and Dunnottar. The Keiths were not connected by relationship with the Howisons of Braehead, but my grandfather and grandmother (who was), a daughter of Cant of Thurston and Giles-Grange, were on the most intimate footing with _our_ Mrs. Keith’s grandfather and grandmother; and so it has been for three generations, and the friendship consummated by my cousin William Keith marrying Isabella Craufurd. “As to my aunt and Scott, they were on a very intimate footing. He asked my aunt to be godmother to his eldest daughter Sophia Charlotte. I had a copy of Miss Edgeworth’s ‘Rosamond, and Harry and Lucy’ for long, which was ‘a gift to Marjorie from Walter Scott,’ probably the first edition of that attractive series, for it wanted ‘Frank,’ which is always now published as part of the series, under the title of _Early Lessons_. I regret to say these little volumes have disappeared.