I had previously written to Miserrimus Dexter (by my old friend’s advice), merely saying that I had been unexpectedly called away from London for a few days, and that I would report to him the result of my interview with Lady Clarinda on my return. A characteristic answer was brought back to the cottage by Ariel: “Mrs. Valeria, I happen to be a man of quick perceptions; and I can read the _unwritten_ part of your letter. Lady Clarinda has shaken your confidence in me. Very good. I pledge myself to shake your confidence in Lady Clarinda. In the meantime I am not offended. In serene composure I await the honor and the happiness of your visit. Send me word by telegraph whether you would like Truffles again, or whether you would prefer something simpler and lighter--say that incomparable French dish, Pig’s Eyelids and Tamarinds. Believe me always your ally and admirer, your poet and cook--DEXTER.” Arrived in Edinburgh, Benjamin and I had a little discussion. The question in dispute between us was whether I should go with him, or go alone, to Mr. Playmore. I was all for going alone. “My experience of the world is not a very large one,” I said. “But I have observed that, in nine cases out of ten, a man will make concessions to a woman, if she approaches him by her self, which he would hesitate even to consider if another man was within hearing. I don’t know how it is--I only know that it is so; If I find that I get on badly with Mr. Playmore, I will ask him for a second appointment, and, in that case, you shall accompany me. Don’t think me self-willed. Let me try my luck alone, and let us see what comes of it.” Benjamin yielded, with his customary consideration for me. I sent my letter of introduction to Mr. Playmore’s office--his private house being in the neighborhood of Gleninch. My messenger brought back a polite answer, inviting me to visit him at an early hour in the afternoon. At the appointed time, to the moment, I rang the bell at the office door. CHAPTER XXXIII. A SPECIMEN OF MY FOLLY. THE incomprehensible submission of Scotchmen to the ecclesiastical tyranny of their Established Church has produced--not unnaturally, as I think--a very mistaken impression of the national character in the popular mind.