During their absence, Reginald was lounging in his sister’s boudoir, talking with her over the events of the preceding days, when they heard the sound of a vehicle driven up to the door, and the blood rushed into Lucy’s face as the thought occurred to her that it might be Ethelston; the delusion was very brief, for a moment afterwards the broad accent of David Muir was clearly distinguishable, as he said to his daughter, “Noo, Jessie, haud a grip o’ Smiler, whilst I gie a pull at the door–bell.” Much to the surprise of the worthy “merchaunt” (by which appellation David delighted to be designated), the door was opened by no less a personage than Monsieur Gustave Perrot himself, who seeing the pretty Jessie in her father’s spring–cart, hastened with characteristic gallantry to assist her to descend; in the performance of which operation he extended both his hands to support her waist, saying, in his most tender tone, “Take care, Miss Jessie; now shump, and trust all your leetle weight with me.” But while he was speaking, the active girl, putting one foot on the step, and touching him lightly on the arm, stood on the ground beside him. “Weel, Mr. Parrot, and how’s a’ wi’ ye the day?” said David, who was busily employed in extracting various packages and parcels from the cart. “All ver’ well, thank you, Mr. Muir; wonderful things happen, though. My young Mr. Reginald he be drowned and stabbed, and quite well!” “Gude save us!” said David in horror; “drowned and stabbed, and quite well! Ye’re surely no in earnest, Mr. Parrot!” “I speak only the truth always,—Miss Jessie, the fresh air and the ride make your cheek beautiful rosy.” “Mr. Perrot,” replied Jessie, smiling, “that is a poor compliment! You are so gallant a gentleman, you should praise the roses in a lady’s cheek without mentioning that she owes them to a rough road and a fresh breeze!” This dialogue on roses was here interrupted by David, who said, “May be, Mr. Parrot, ye’ll just let Smiler be ta’en round to the stable, and desire ane o’ the lads to help us in with these twa parcels; yon muckle basket, there, is brimfull of all the newest kick–shaws, and modes, as they call ‘em, frae Philadelphy; so Jessie’s just come wi’ me to gie Miss Lucy the first choice; and she’s a right to hae it too, for she’s the bonniest and the best young lady in the territory.”