With all this flash of fine society, however, which so soon made an end of Rowland’s fears, it is astounding how much in the foreground of the picture was Miss Eliza, briefly described as “of the Burn,” in the nomenclature of the parish. What Miss Eliza’s surname was, and what was implied by the designation “of the Burn,” it was really quite unnecessary to add. The same surname is so very general in Scotch west country parishes, that it confers little distinction in itself. Miss Eliza came to call in a little wickerwork carriage, called a clothes-basket by her friends, with a russet pony to draw it and equally russet groom or stable-boy to look after the vehicle when she made a call. Miss Eliza drove the pony herself, with Colin generally behind, to whom she threw a word occasionally when a longer time than usual elapsed without meeting anybody on the road: but as the kind woman knew everybody, from the fishwife who came over with her creels from Kilrossie during the season of the saut water, up to the Earl himself, when he happened to be seen in those regions, or even the Duchess, who was a still more rare visitor, there was but little time for her to entertain Colin with a special remark. “How do you do the day?” she said with a wave of her whip in salutation of her friends. “How’s a’ with you, David? I hope the hoast is better, and that you like the lozenges.--Good morning, Mrs. Dean, and isn’t it just a pleasure to see such a fine day: grand for the hay, as I have been saying all the way down the loch, fifty times if I’ve said it once. I’m hoping they’ll get it all well carted in at Rowanson, and a fine heavy crop it is, just a pleasure to see.--Eh, is that you, Lizzie, with your basket? It’s awfu’ heavy for you, my poor lass, and you not got up your strength yet. Climb up beside Colin: I’ll take ye a bittie of the way.--Good day to ye, minister. Ye see I’ve got Lizzie Chalmers in the basket. Ye must just give her a good talking to, for she’s come out before she has got up her strength. Would you like any of her fish at the Manse? I would call and leave them on my way back, with pleasure, and it would aye be something for her to take home. I will have some of the herrings and the little haddies myself, though the haddies are not equal to the Fife haddies, and the herrings are not so good as Loch Fyne. Oh yes, I am just going to Rosmore. I hear she’s just an uncommon nice person, and a credit to the loch-side.--Dear me, there’s Lady Jean. It’s a sight for sore eyes to see you now, and a sore trouble to think you’re in the parish no longer, and I can scarcely offer to give you a lift when I have Lizzie Chalmers in the cart. Isn’t she just a very presentable sort of person? I’m meaning the new lady at the house, no Lizzie: we all know everything there is to know about her. And I hope his lordship is quite well, and you are not finding Ardnachrean damp.--Dear, bless me, there is the