We have already noticed the use to which "Merry-Andrew" put that brown-black suit of his, the white neckcloth, the haggard cheeks, and the tears,--all so often the stage property in the melodrama of life, and as easily put off as the personation of the character, unless kept on by the adhesive effect of a good legacy. But as every man is once or twice in his life doomed to experience in reality that which he falsifies in theory, so our mourner over those he had never seen before was on one occasion, at least, placed in a position where it might have been expected he would experience something like a qualm about the thing which was in form, if not in consistency, a heart. It seems that Merrylees had a sister in Penicuik, with whom he had been brought up, and towards whom, before he had experienced the hardening process of mammon's manipulations, he had entertained something like affection. That sister happened to die; and, on a certain day, Merrylees appeared in the Square once more in the old suit which had so faithfully repaid its original cost twenty times over. He had sense enough--and the reason thereof may appear, on a little consideration of the character of his compeers--to keep the circumstance of the death to himself; and, accordingly, when the apparition appeared in the ominous suit, they anticipated another descent of grief upon the Infirmary. This suspicion very soon passed away, for not only was there no sign of that puckering up of the lank muscles, not deserving the name of a look of vivacity, which preceded his lugubrious personation in the hospital, but the day passed without any aid being asked from the others to help to carry, or rather run, with the white coffin. The methodist "Spune" was the first to divine the real cause of the chief's melancholy; and whether it was, as was said,--for we are not certain of the fact,--that the two had had a quarrel some time before about the division of spoil, it was certain that the worsted competitor began to entertain some very dark thoughts about a visit to Penicuik church-yard, whereby he could not only remunerate himself in the shape of money, but achieve one of the most curious revenges that ever were enjoyed since Nemesis began to have her fiery eyes. So, taking Mowat to a side of the Square, the "Spune" began to look mysteriously into his face--a most unnecessary process, where there never was any change of expression since first nature squeezed the clay into solidity. "I suspect Merrylees' sister's dead at last," said he; "isn't she as good as another?" "Nae difference," was the answer, without any surprise. "Yes, ye fule, some; and you're so stupid you don't see it." "I can see nane,--a' is alike to me; ae worm's as gude's anither to the 'Moudiewart.'" "Ay, but if a worm had bitten ye, man, wouldn't you squeeze it the harder?" "Maybe." "And have you forgotten the ten shillings in Blackfriars' Wynd?" "I'll tak it oot o' his blude," was the surly reply.