"And ye may rely on your naig being weel sorted," said Cuddie; "I ken weel what belangs to suppering a horse, and this is a very gude ane." Cuddie took the horse to the little cow-house, and called to his wife to attend in the mean while to the stranger's accommodation. The officer entered, and threw himself on a settle at some distance from the fire, and carefully turning his back to the little lattice window. Jenny, or Mrs. Headrigg, if the reader pleases, requested him to lay aside the cloak, belt, and flapped hat which he wore upon his journey, but he excused himself under pretence of feeling cold, and, to divert the time till Cuddie's return, he entered into some chat with the children, carefully avoiding, during the interval, the inquisitive glances of his landlady. CHAPTER XVII. What tragic tears bedim the eye! What deaths we suffer ere we die! Our broken friendships we deplore, And loves of youth that are no more. LOGAN. Cuddie soon returned, assuring the stranger, with a cheerful voice, "that the horse was properly suppered up, and that the gudewife should make a bed up for him at the house, mair purpose-like and comfortable than the like o' them could gie him." "Are the family at the house?" said the stranger, with an interrupted and broken voice. "No, stir, they're awa wi' a' the servants,--they keep only twa nowadays, and my gudewife there has the keys and the charge, though she's no a fee'd servant. She has been born and bred in the family, and has a' trust and management. If they were there, we behovedna to take sic freedom without their order; but when they are awa, they will be weel pleased we serve a stranger gentleman. Miss Bellenden wad help a' the haill warld, an her power were as gude as her will; and her grandmother, Leddy Margaret, has an unto respect for the gentry, and she's no ill to the poor bodies neither.--And now, wife, what for are ye no getting forrit wi' the sowens?" "Never mind, lad," rejoined Jenny, "ye sall hae them in gude time; I ken weel that ye like your brose het." Cuddie fidgeted and laughed with a peculiar expression of intelligence at this repartee, which was followed by a dialogue of little consequence betwixt his wife and him, in which the stranger took no share. At length he suddenly interrupted them by the question: "Can you tell me when Lord Evandale's marriage takes place?" "Very soon, we expect," answered Jenny, before it was possible for her husband to reply; "it wad hae been ower afore now, but for the death o' auld Major Bellenden." "The excellent old man!" said the stranger; "I heard at Edinburgh he was no more. Was he long ill?"