“It's nae sa much a revolt, my Leddy,” rejoined he, slowly and respectfully, “as the sure and certain consequence of what has been going on for years on the property. I did my best, by warning, and indeed by thwarting, so far as I could, these same changes. But I was not listened to. I foretold what it would all end in, this amelearating the condition of the small farmer--this raising the moral standard of the people, and a' that. I foresaw that if they grew richer they 'd grow sturdier; and if they learned to read, they'd begin to reflact. Ah, my leddy, a vara dangerous practice this same habit of reflection is, to folk who wear ragged clothes and dine on potatoes!” “I apprehend that the peril is not felt so acutely in your own country, sir!” “Vara true, my Leddy; your remark is vara just; but there's this difference to be remembered: the Scotch are canny folk, and we do many a thing that might n't be safe for others, but we take care never to do them ower much.” “I don't want your philosophizing, sir, about national characteristics. I conclude that you know--it is your duty to know--whence this spirit took its rise. I desire to be informed on this head, and also what measures you have to advise for its suppression.” Another pause, longer and more embarrassing than the first, followed on this speech, and Mr. Henderson really seemed balancing within himself whether he would or not give evidence. “Your reluctance has only to go a step further, Henderson, to impress me with the worst suspicions of yourself!” said Lady Dorothea, sternly. “I 'm vara sorry for it, my Leddy; I don't deserve them,” was the calm reply. Had Lady Dorothea been quick-sighted, she might have detected a glance which the daughter directed towards her father; but she had been more than quick-minded if she could have read its meaning, so strange was the expression it bore. “In plain words, sir, do you know the offenders? and if so, how can we punish them?” “Your Leddyship has them all there,” said he, pointing to the list on the table; “but there's nae sa much to be done wi' them, as the chief o' the lot are men o' mark and means, wi' plenty o' siller, and the sperit to spend it.” “I hear of nothing but defaulters till a moment like this arrives, sir,” said her Ladyship, passionately. “The burden of every song is arrears of rent; and now I am told that the tenantry are so prosperous that they can afford to defy their landlord. Explain this, sir!” Before Mr. Henderson had completed that hesitating process which with him was the prelude to an answer, the door opened, and Mary Martin entered. She was in a riding-dress, and bore the traces of the road on her splashed costume; but her features were paler than usual, and her lip quivered as she spoke.