or no, I declare, as I’m to be judged hereafter, I never did inquire.  But I saw plainly it wadna do for a rough country drover, jauped up to the very elbows, and sportin’ a handfu’ o’ pound-notes the day, and no’ worth a penny the morn—­I say, I saw plainly it wadna do for the like o’ me to draw up by her elbow, and say ’Here’s a fine day, ma’am,’ or, ‘Hae ye ony objections to a walk?’ or something o’ that sort.  But it was weel on for five years since I had singled her out; and though I never said a word anent the subject o’ matrimony, yet I had reason to think she had a shrewd guess that my heart louped quicker when she opened her lips than if a regiment o’ infantry had stealed behint me unobserved, and fired their muskets ower my shouther; and I sometimes thought that her een looked as if she wished to say, ’Are ye no gaun to ask me, David?’

“But still, when I thought she had been brought up a leddy in a kind o’ manner, I durstna venture to mint the matter; but I was fully resolved and determined, should I succeed in getting the money I was trying for, to break the business clean aff hand.  So, ye see, as soon as I got the siller, what does I do but sits down and writes her a letter—­and sic a letter!  I tauld her a’ my mind as freely as though I had been speakin’ to you.  Weel, ye see, I gaed bang through to Edinburgh at ance, no three days after my letter; and up I goes to the Lawnmarket, where she was living wi’ her mother, and raps at the door without ony ceremony.  But when I had rapped, I was in a swither whether to staun till they came out or no, for my heart began to imitate the knocker, or rather to tell me how I ought to have knocked; for it wasna a loud, solid drover’s knock like mine, but it kept rit-tit-tat-ting on my breast like the knock of a hairdresser’s ‘prentice bringing a bandbox fu’ o’ curls and ither knick-knackeries, for a leddy to pick and choose on for a fancy ball; and my face lowed as though ye were haudin’ a candle to it; when out comes the servant, and I stammers out, ‘Is your mistress in?’ says I.  ‘Yes, sir,’ says she; ‘walk in.’  And in I walked; but I declare I didna ken whether the floor carried me, or I carried the floor; and wha should I see but an auld leddy wi’ spectacles—­the maiden’s mistress, sure enough, though no mine, but my mother-in-law that was to be.  So she looked at me, and I looked at her.  She made a low curtsey, and I tried to mak’ a bow; while all the time ye might hae heard my heart beatin’ at the opposite side o’ the room.  ‘Sir,’ says she.  ‘Ma’am,’ says I. I wad hae jumped out o’ the window had it no been four stories high; but since I’ve gane this far, I maun say something, thinks I.  ’I’ve ta’en the liberty o’ callin’, ma’am,’ says I.  ‘Very happy to see ye, sir,’ says she.  Weel, thinks I, I’m glad to hear that, however; but had it been to save my life, I didna ken what to say next.  So I sat down; and at length I ventured to ask, ‘Is your daughter, Miss Jean, at hame, ma’am?’ says I.  ‘I wate she