At that moment Miss Letty was standing at the back of Miss Napier's chair, leaning her arms upon it as she talked to her. This was her way of resting as often as occasion arose for a chat with her elder sister. Miss Letty's hair was gathered in a great knot at the top of her head, and little ringlets hung like tendrils down the sides of her face, the benevolence of which was less immediately striking than that of her sister's, because of the constant play of humour upon it, especially about the mouth. If a spirit of satire could be supposed converted into something Christian by an infusion of the tenderest loving-kindness and humanity, remaining still recognizable notwithstanding that all its bitterness was gone, such was the expression of Miss Letty's mouth. It was always half puckered as if in resistance to a comic smile, which showed itself at the windows of the keen gray eyes, however the mouth might be able to keep it within doors. She was neatly dressed in black silk, with a lace collar. Her hands were small and white. The moment the traveller stopped at the door, Miss Napier started. 'Letty,' she said, 'wha's that? I could amaist sweir to Black Geordie's fit.' 'A' four o' them, I think,' returned Miss Letty, as the horse, notwithstanding, or perhaps in consequence of his fatigue, began to paw and move about on the stones impatiently. The rider had not yet spoken. 'He'll be efter some o' 's deevil-ma'-care sculduddery. But jist rin to the door, Letty, or Lizzy 'll be there afore ye, and maybe she wadna be ower ceevil. What can he be efter noo?' 'What wad the grew (grayhound) be efter but maukin (hare)?' returned Miss Letty. 'Hoot! nonsense! He kens naething aboot her. Gang to the door, lassie.' Miss Letty obeyed. 'Wha's there?' she asked, somewhat sharply, as she opened it, 'that neither chaps (knocks) nor ca's?--Preserve 's a'! is't you, my lord?' 'Hoo ken ye me, Miss Letty withoot seein' my face?' 'A'body at The Boar's Heid kens Black Geordie as weel 's yer lordship's ain sel'. But whaur comes yer lordship frae in sic a nicht as this?' 'From Russia. Never dismounted between Moscow and Aberdeen. The ice is bearing to-night.' And the baron laughed inside the upturned collar of his cloak, for he knew that strangely-exaggerated stories were current about his feats in the saddle. 'That's a lang ride, my lord, and a sliddery. And what's yer lordship's wull?' 'Muckle ye care aboot my lordship to stand jawin' there in a night like this! Is nobody going to take my horse?' 'I beg yer lordship's pardon. Caumill!--Yer lordship never said ye wanted yer lordship's horse ta'en. I thocht ye micht be gaein' on to The Bothie.--Tak' Black Geordie here, Caumill.--Come in to the parlour, my lord.' 'How d'ye do, Miss Naper?' said Lord Rothie, as he entered the room. 'Here's this jade of a sister of yours asking me why I don't go home to The Bothie, when I choose to stop and water here.' 'What'll ye tak', my lord?--Letty, fess the brandy.'