I assured her that we had neither peat nor woodcutting privileges on the Meadows, and to change the subject asked her if she would not go up and see Irma. "A' in guid time," she said. "I hae a word or two to ask ye first, laddie. No that muckle is to be expected o' a man that wad write to puir Janet Lyon instead o' to _me_, Duncan MacAlpine!" As I did not volunteer anything, she exclaimed, stamping her foot, "Dinna stand there glowering at me. Man alive, Duncan lad, ye can hae no idea how like an eediot ye can look when ye put your mind to it!" I had been reared in the knowledge that it was a vain thing to argue with my grandmother, so I listened patiently to all she had to say, and I answered, to the best of my ability, all the questions she asked. Most she seemed to have no need to ask at all, for she knew the answers before they were out of my mouth, and paid no attention to my words when I did get in a word. "Humph, you are stupider than most men, and that's saying no trifle!" was her comment when all was finished. I asked Mary Lyon if there was nothing I could do to assist her--help with her unpacking, or any trifle like that. "Aye, there is," she answered, with her old verve, "get out o' the house, man, and leave me to my work while you do yours." I took my hat, the cane which the Advocate had given me, and with them my way to the office of the _Universal Review._ I had a busy day, which perhaps was as well, for all the time my mind was wandering disconsolate about the little white house above the Meadows. I returned to find all well, my supper laid in the kitchen and the contents of grandmother's trunks apparently filling the rest of the house. Irma gave me a little, perfunctory kiss; said, "Oh, if you could only----!" and so vanished to where my grandmother was unfolding still more things and other treasures to the rustle of fine tissue paper, and the gasps and little hand-clappings of Irma. Those who know my grandmother do not need to be told that she took possession of our house and all that was therein, of Irma so completely that practically I was only allowed to bid my wife "Good-morning" under the strictest supervision, and of Mistress Pathrick--who, after one sole taste of my grandmother's tongue, had retired defeated with the muttered criticism that "that tongue o' the auld leddy's could ding a' the Luckenbooths--aye, and the West Bow as weel." However, once subjected, she proved a kindly and a willing slave. I have, however, my suspicions that in these days Mr. Pathrick McGrier, ex-janitor of the Latin classroom, had but a poor time of it so far as the preparation of his meals went, and as to housekeeping she was simply not there. For she slept now under the stairs in a lair she had rigged up for herself, which she said was "rale comfortable," but certainly to the unaccustomed had an air of great stuffiness.