Mrs Mense was a very old woman now, and invalided. She sat in a great elbow-chair by the fireside, spinning feebly sometimes, and sometimes giving counsel, by no means feebly, to her self-willed niece, the housekeeper _de facto_. The establishment was a very limited one; besides Janet, and the miscellaneous personage known as “Mossgray’s man,” there was only one other servant in the house. “Eh, Miss Hope, is this you?” said Mrs Mense, “and your mamma nae less, minding the auld wife as she aye does. Effie, ye tawpie, get chairs to the ladies--or are ye gaun ben, Mrs Oswald, to wait for Mossgray?” “Mossgray is out, I see,” said Mrs Oswald. “No, Hope came to see you, Mrs Mense; we will sit down beside you awhile. That will do, Effie.” “And look till her how she’s grown!” exclaimed the old woman, “and stout wi’t. Ye’re no gaun to let down our credit, Miss Hope. Ye’ll let the Edinburgh folk see what guid bluid is in thir southland parts. Effie, gar Janet gie ye the wee cheeny luggie fu’ o’ cream. Ye mind it, Miss Hope? it belangs mair to you than to onybody about Mossgray.” “But, Mrs Mense,” said Hope, “you did not call Crummie’s calf after me, as you said you would.” “My dear lamb! ye wadna have had me to ca’ the muckle langleggit haverel of a beast after you, and you a winsome young lady? Na, I ken better manners--and forbye Mossgray said it was nae compliment. But I’ll tell ye what, Miss Hope, there’s a new powny--the bonniest creature!--and ye’se get the naming o’t, gin ye like.” “Where is it?--wait till I see it, mamma!” cried Hope, starting up. Hope had, like most country girls, an especial liking for youthful animals. “Ye maun hae your cream first,” said the housekeeper, as Effie approached with the china luggie, in which, from time immemorial, Hope had received a draught of rich cream on her every visit to Mossgray. Hope hardly took time to taste it; she was too eager to see the “new powny.” “Did you see the laird, Mem?” said Mrs Mense, with some appearance of anxiety, as Mrs Oswald waited for her daughter’s return. “We saw him on the knowe,” said Mrs Oswald; “but did not disturb him, as he seemed occupied. I fancy that is one of his favourite spots, Mrs Mense.” “Na--I’m meaning I dinna ken,” said the old woman; “but he’s gotten some letter the day that’s troubled him--I canna bide to see him fashed, and he’s just unco easy putten about. Janet, div ye hear the clock? it’s twa chappit, and the dinner no to the fire!” “I ken what I’m doing, auntie,” returned the impatient Janet.