“Here’s no coffee,” said Douglas, surveying the tea-table; “but I will ring for some,” as he pulled the bell.

Old Donald answered the summons.

“Where’s the coffee?” demanded Miss Nicky.

“The coffee!” repeated the Highlander; “troth, Miss Nicky, an’ it’s been clean forgot.”

“Well, but you can get it yet?” said Douglas.

“’Deed, Maister Harry, the night’s owre far gane for’t noo; for the fire’s a’ ta’en up, ye see,” reckoning with his fingers, as he proceeded; “there’s parritch makin’ for oor supper; and there’s patatees boiling for the beasts; and—­”

“I’ll see about it myself,” said Miss Nicky, leaving the room, with old Donald at her back, muttering all the way.

The old Laird, all this while, had been enjoying his evening nap; but, that now ended, and the tea equipage being dismissed, starting up, he asked what they were about, that the dancing was not begun.

“Come, my Leddy, we’ll set the example,” snapping his fingers, and singing in a hoarse voice,

   “The mouse is a merry beastie,
    And the moudiwort wants the een;
    But folk sail ne’er get wit,
    Sae merry as we twa ha’e been.’

“But whar’s the girlies?” cried he.  “Ho!  Belle, Becky, Betty, Baby, Beeny—­to your posts!”

The young ladies, eager for the delights of music and dancing, now entered, followed by Coil, the piper, dressed in the native garb, with cheeks seemingly ready blown for the occasion.  After a little strutting and puffing, the pipes were fairly set a going in Coil’s most spirited manner.  But vain would be the attempt to describe Lady Juliana’s horror and amazement at the hideous sounds that for the first time assailed her ear.  Tearing herself from the grasp of the old gentleman, who was just setting off in the reel, she flew shrieking to her husband, and threw herself trembling into his arms, while he called loudly to the self delighted Coil to stop.

“What’s the matter? what’s the matter?” cried the whole family, gathering round.

“Matter!” repeated Douglas furiously; “you have frightened Lady Juliana to death with your infernal music.  What did you mean,” turning fiercely to the astonished piper, “by blowing that confounded bladder?”

Poor Coil gaped with astonishment; for never before had his performance on the bagpipe been heard but with admiration and applause.

“A bonny bargain, indeed, that canna stand the pipes,” said the old gentleman, as he went puffing up and down the room.  “She’s no the wife for a Heelandman.  Confoonded blather, indeed!  By my faith, ye’re no blate!”

“I declare it’s the most distressing thing I ever met with,” sighed Miss Grizzy.  “I wonder whether it could be the sight or the sound of the bagpipe that frightened our dear niece.  I wish to goodness Lady Maclaughlan was here!”

“It’s impossible the bagpipe could frighten anybody,” said Miss Jacky, in a high key; “nobody with common sense could be frightened at a bagpipe.”