voice, and quite regardless of the meaning of the speech, while correcting the error of construction.

Poor Annie blushed deeply, for the ludicrous effect of Grunter's repeating such a sentence made every one laugh; even Julian could not suppress a smile.

The game of chess over, Augusta retired to share her mother's watch by Ellen's bedside. Having heard that Ellen was sleeping, and seemed tolerably easy, Julian declared his intention of looking in at the libraries, observing there was nothing like evening amusement to be had in England, unless Rollin's History, and a rencontre with Screech, could be called such.

"It was na sae in my younger days," said Tibby, with the air of an offended beauty. Julian rose, and asked the way to the libraries.

Grunter fully explained, fearful lest he should be requested to accompany him.

As he left the room, Annie said, "Oh, no one shall show him the way, and he shall go astray."

"No one will show him the way; he will go astray," said Grunter, correcting her.

66

Now, may you prove a false prophet, Grunter!" said Julian, turning round, and smiling. "Dear father, I shall be back shortly, and will see you in your dressing-room, on my return. Mr. Grunter, Miss Tibby, and Annie, rosy dreams and slumbers light;' but, Annie, do not say he shall go astray, for the shall of such pretty lips sounds ominous."

No, no," thought Mr. Lindsay, on the whole much pleased with his son; "if his head did lead him astray, his heart would bring him safe back again."

"He's a fine young mon," thought Tibby; "but, for a' that, he's na worth Donald of the brae. Puir Donald! he never thought there war lack of evening amusement, when he could sit a listening to my sangs and the whirl of my spinning-wheel in our ingle nook. But then I war a bonnie young lassie. It's true, he war in love—and weel he might be

and Julian is na sae. Nor, I think, is he like to be, wi' ony thing but himsel'. True,

these young lassies are a' weel favoured and -but they're na what I was in my younger days-I doot whether they've the bonnie face or the braw figure I had; and I'm very surè they've na half the wit and spirit, and the cannie tongue to while awa' the time.'

And what thought Augusta and Annie? The reader must guess.

CHAPTER VII.

Heaven first sent letters for some wretch's aid,
Some absent lover, or some captive maid.

POPE.

The next morning Miss Tibby came down to breakfast with a letter in her hand, and looking very mysterious indeed.

"Where's my young kinsmon?" she asked. "He is not yet down."

"Aweel, aweel, what will the young folk of these times come to next? not down, and it's half past ten. Why, when I was a lassie, we dared na sit at breakfast at a' if we were na a' ready wi' our bason o' porridge at eight preceesely."

"Perhaps," said Annie, "Julian would be down at eight, aunt, if such a dainty as that awaited him."

"You're ower saucy, lassie," replied Miss Tibby, re-perusing her letter.

"I hope, dear Miss Tibby, you have no bad news," said Mrs. Lindsay, who was very curious.

"Nane at a', I thank ye, ma'am. Where's Mr. Lindsay?"

"He's gone to see Ellen; he'll be here directly."

"And how is Ellen, to-day?"

"Much better, my dear Miss Tibby. Have you good news from Scotland?"

"I have good news, ma'am, but na from Scotland."

"I'll call my brother, perhaps you wish to consult him."

"There's na hurry," said Tibby, returning to her letter.

Urged by Mrs. Lindsay, Mr. Lindsay soon appeared; Julian followed in a Parisian deshabille of the newest elegance; Augusta looked so blooming, having taken a short morning walk, that he was drawn a little from the contemplation of himself.