"It did indeed; it has made me feel a different woman." "Eh, but it's a gran' speerit!" said the old gentleman with reviving ardour. "There's nae need to speak for it, an' that's a fact; your ain tongue sings its perfection to ye as ye sup it doon. Ye may get ither houses to serve ye cheaper, I'm no' denyin' that; but tae them that can place the rale article there's nae house like Pilcher's. And Pilcher's best canna be beaten in the trade. I ha'e nae interest tae lie tae ye, ye ken; nor could I tak' ye in wi' the wines and speerits had I the mind. There's the advantage wi' the wines and speerits; ye canna deceive! Ye ha'e the sample, an' ye ha'e the figure--will I book the order or will I no'?" "It's your business then, Mr.----?" "Will ye no' tak' my card?" he said, producing a large one; "there, put it awa'. Should ye ever be in need, ma lassie, a line to Macpheerson, care o' the firm----" "How kind of you!" she exclaimed. "No' a bit," he said; "ye never can tell what may happen, and whether it's for yoursel' ye need it, or a recommendation, ye'll ken ye're buying at the wholesale price." She glanced at him with surprise, and looked away again. And they drove for several minutes in silence. "Maybe ye ken some family whaur I'd be likely tae book an order noo?" remarked Mr. Macpherson incidentally. "Sherry? dae ye no' ken o' a family requirin' sherry? I can dae them sherry at a figure that'll tak' th' breath frae them. Ye canna suspect the profit--th' weecked ineequitous profit--that sherry's retailed at; wi' three quotations tae the brand often eno', an' a made-up wine at that! Noo, I could supply your frien's wi' 'Crossbones'--the finest in the trade, on the honour of Macpheerson--if ye happen tae ha'e ony who----" "I don't," she said, "happen to have any." "There's the family whaur ye're workin', we'll say; a large family maybe, wi' a cellar. For a large family tae be supplied at the wholesale figure----" "I am sorry, but I don't work." "Ye don't work, an' ye ha'e no frien's?" He peered at her curiously. "Then, ma dear young leddy, ye'll no' think me impertinent if I ax ye how th' de'il ye live?" The wild idea shot into her brain that perhaps he might be able to put her into the way of something--somewhere--somehow! "I'm a stranger in London," she answered, "looking for employment--quite alone." "Eh," said Mr. Macpherson, "that's bad, that's verra bad!" He whipped up the horse, and after the momentary comment lapsed into reverie. She called herself a fool for her pains, and stared dumbly across the melancholy fields. "Whauraboots are ye stayin'?" he demanded, after they had passed the Swiss Cottage. She told him. "Please don't let me take you out of your way," she added. "Ye're no' verra far frae ma ain house," he declared. "Ye had best come in an' warm before ye gang on hame. Ye are in nae hurry, I suppose?" "No, but----" "Oh, the mistress will nae mind it. Ye just come in wi' me!"