"Why, Mr. Graham, it would take twa hunters ilka morn to catch the wild things; on the tops o' the highest hills, down in the deepest glens, hidden amang the steep rocks, we might as well try to tame the wild animals as these rough, outlandish children o' the crags." "Try, Miss Juliana, gi' them something for the body, and, after awhile, they will come to ye for something for the mind." Miss Juliana yawned, "It is sae mickle work, Mr. Graham, for a high-born lady; I could na' think of sic a thing." For two weeks the visitors remained; but no visible progress was made by Baby, and the party turned their faces homeward. "Ye will return our visit soon, Mr. Graham; bring yer young friend wi' ye; we canna promise mickle at Kennicott, but we will mak' ye welcome." "Thank ye, Sir Peter, when we hae leisure, we will accept your kind invitation." The old carriage was brought up, Sir Peter and Lady Catherine comfortably seated, followed by Miss Juliana and her cat, Tabby; Miss Winnie and her dog, Charley; and Baby with her talking Poll, screaming, as she went, "Poll wants Baby;" with sundry band-boxes and trunks, filled with the old finery, to be packed away for future occasions; while the ladies would now assume their tartan plaid and woollen hose, until making another visitation. Mrs. Lindsay gave one long, expressive breath; good Uncle Malcolm smiled with a look of relief, and little Annot clapped her hands as she hugged up her pet kitten, and said, "Now, tittens! that horrid dog is gone, and ye shall hae some peace o' your life." In a few days, Edmund arrived, and received a hearty welcome from the master of Graham Hall. Soon domesticated, he revelled in the comforts of the hospitable mansion; and day after day, seated by the blazing fire of the family-room, he would rub his hands with delight, exclaiming, "This is living, Roland! How shall I ever content myself in that Babel of a city after these grand mountains, these noble trees, this free life out-of-doors, and this glowing, warm-hearted hospitality within!" "It is a charming home, indeed!" was Roland's reply, "the very perfection of that sweet word; though so cold without, one feels all the time here in the midst of a warm glow of Christian love, and hearty welcome."' "What a charming piece of simplicity is that dear little Annot, Roland! So fresh! so naive! After the glitter of New York belles, she is really captivating; and then her music--why, she warbles sweetly as a mavis." Roland smiled as he replied, "Where is Miss Hamilton, Edmund?" "O, she is out of my reach! a bright divinity that I may worship in the distance! But this little Scotch mountain girl! innocent child that she is, charms me daily more and more, with her winning ways, and her sweet, loving eyes." "Take care, Edmund, how you allow yourself to become enchanted; for you may never see Scotland again."