’Was that all?’ she said flippantly. ’Gentlemen have often "strange servant lasses," dear, and I dare say Archie, for all his prim ways, is no better than his neighbours.’ Alison’s cheeks suddenly flamed scarlet, and her eyes blazed, as she caught the innuendo. ’That—that was a _wicked_ thought, Nancy,’ she said. ’La—Innocence, don’t look so scandalised,’ laughed Nancy. ’What a spit-fire it is! But take my word for it, Ally, men are men, love, and not old maids!’ which was an undeniable truth; and not a surprising one, perhaps, on the lips of the confidential friend of Mr. Burns, the poet. *CHAPTER XXIV.* The Bard had not visited the Potterrow on that evening, as Alison was not slow to discover. But Nancy was in a mood so gay, so full of sparkle, that her friend presumed that the famous visit was a pleasure only for a very little time deferred. ’Nancy,’ Alison said, venturing on a subject which she felt was too mundane to find favour at the moment, ’Mr. Herries says that he takes Danny down to the seaside on Saturday.’ ’Does he, love?’ said Nancy, coolly. ’Well, ’tis vastly good of him, I’m sure. But if he expects dutiful maternal attendance from me on that day, he can’t get it; for I’m most particularly engaged at home.’ ’He—he begged of us both to come,’ said Alison, in rather a low voice. ’Well, dear, ’twill be a nice jaunt for you,’ said Nancy, cheerfully. ’And with you there to take care of Danny, the less need for me. ’Twas exactly so I planned it, in my own mind. Child, Ally, of what use you are to me! What did I do before I had you?’ She came over to Alison’s side of the hearth, patted the girl’s cheek and playfully pulled a curl. But Alison’s heart was troubled. ’Nancy,’ she said, timidly, ’don’t you think ’twill seem a little—a little odd to Mr. Herries that you do not go with poor Danny?’ ’It may seem as odd as it pleases, love,’ answered Nancy; ’I am not going.’