The task which the romantic Mrs. Maclehose had set herself in regard to Alison, was one entirely after her own heart. She considered herself a past-mistress in all things relating to the tender passion; and though she herself had met with signal and disastrous shipwreck amid the shoals of matrimony, there was nothing in life that interested her like affairs of the heart. On this occasion, indeed, it was the marring, and not the making, of a match, that she had in hand. But what mission could be more legitimate, what endeavour more congenial, than that of helping to liberate a young and interesting friend from the horrid bondage of a loveless contract? That the mistress of The Mains viewed the matter from a different standpoint, she was, of course, aware; in her fertile brain she had arranged a plan of warfare, and went to the battle wreathed in smiles. The lady of the house herself opened the campaign; by marching into the invalid’s room one morning with an armful of silk—the wedding silk, which she spread forth before her guest. ’Ye were ay a handy body at the clothes, Nancy,’ she observed. ’Now tell me how to sort this silk for Alison, in the newest modes.’ ’Ah! your lovely Alison—how interesting!’ murmured the guest, sweetly. ’Alison’s well enough,’ said her impartial parent, coolly. ’We think her none so lovely here—a good girl, but homely; none the less likely to make a good wife to an honest gentleman.’ ’To be sure, to be sure,’ said Mrs. Maclehose, in a sprightly tone, ’a little bird has told me of that interesting matter!’ ’Then it needna have fashed itself,’ said Mrs. Graham, alluding to the feathered purveyor of secrets, ’for I was fair bursting to speak of it myself. ’Tis a most extraordinary piece of good fortune to us, this substantial offer for a tocherless lass like Alison. I cannot get over it yet, myself.’ ’And yet, Alison’—said the guest cautiously, ’Alison herself does not speak of the matter with the enthusiasm one expects in a young heart on such an occasion.’ ’Do you gather grapes from thorns or figs from thistles?’ inquired Mrs. Graham, contemptuously. ’No, nor sense from glaikit lasses! Alison’s a fool, and doesna ken what’s good for her. But—’ grimly—’I’ve been teaching her, and she’ll learn yet!’ ’And the gentleman, ma’am?’ inquired Nancy, casually, ’I protest I have hardly heard his name?’ ’’Tis one most excellent respectit laird,’ said Mrs. Graham, swelling visibly with the importance of the announcement, ’one Mr. Cheape of Kincarley in the county of—’ But here Nancy broke in upon her with a sharp titter, which, however, she had the appearance of politely suppressing. Mrs. Graham looked at her sharply. ’What’s wrong wi’ _you_?’ she sarcastically inquired. ’Oh, la, ma’am! nothing, I assure you,’ said Nancy, in an obvious struggle with a mirthful tendency, ’only Mr. Cheape—ha—ha—’ and she tailed off into a giggle.