This was the first intimation Miss Oldbuck had received that the young stranger was to be their guest for the night; and such was the surprise with which she was struck by a proposal so uncommon, that, had the superincumbent weight of her head-dress, such as we before described, been less preponderant, her grey locks must have started up on end, and hurled it from its position. “Lord haud a care o’ us!” exclaimed the astounded maiden. “What’s the matter now, Grizel?” “Wad ye but just speak a moment, Monkbarns?” “Speak!--what should I speak about? I want to get to my bed--and this poor young fellow--let a bed be made ready for him instantly.” “A bed?--The Lord preserve us!” again ejaculated Grizel. “Why, what’s the matter now?--are there not beds and rooms enough in the house?--was it not an ancient hospitium, in which, I am warranted to say, beds were nightly made down for a score of pilgrims?” “O dear, Monkbarns! wha kens what they might do lang syne?--but in our time--beds--ay, troth, there’s beds enow sic as they are--and rooms enow too--but ye ken yoursell the beds haena been sleepit in, Lord kens the time, nor the rooms aired.--If I had kenn’d, Mary and me might hae gaen down to the manse--Miss Beckie is aye fond to see us--(and sae is the minister, brother)--But now, gude save us!”-- “Is there not the Green Room, Grizel?” “Troth is there, and it is in decent order too, though naebody has sleepit there since Dr. Heavysterne, and”-- “And what?” “And what! I am sure ye ken yoursell what a night he had--ye wadna expose the young gentleman to the like o’ that, wad ye?”