“I declare, it’s all very true,” observed Miss Grizzy; “the tablecloth is very small, and Donald certainly does shake, that cannot be denied;” but, lowering her voice, “he is so obstinate, we really don’t know what to do with him.  My sisters and I attempted to use the flesh-brush with him.”

“Oh, and an excellent thing it is; I make Philistine rub Sir Sampson every morning and night.  If it was not for that and his cough, nobody would know whether he were dead or alive; I don’t believe he would know himself—­humph!”

Sir Sampson’s lemon face assumed an orange hue as he overheard this domestic detail; but not daring to contradict the facts, he prudently turned a deaf ear to them, and attempted to carryon a flirtation with Lady Juliana through the medium of Cupid, whom he had coaxed upon his knee.

Dinner being at length ended, toasts succeeded:  and each of the ladies having given her favourite laird, the signal of retreat was given, and a general movement took place.

Lady Juliana, throwing herself upon a sofa with her pugs, called Mrs. Douglas to her.  “Do sit down here and talk with me,” yawned she.

Her sister-in-law, with great good-humour, fetched her work, and seated herself by the spoilt child.

“What strange thing is that you are making?” asked she, as Mrs. Douglas pulled out her knitting.

“It’s a child’s stocking,” replied her sister-in-law.

“A child’s stocking!  Oh, by-the-bye, have you a great many children?”

“I have none,” answered Mrs. Douglas, with a half-stifled sigh.

“None at all?” repeated Lady Juliana, with surprise “then, why do you make children’s stockings?”

“I make them for those whose parents cannot afford to purchase them.”

“La! what poor wretches they must be, that can’t afford to buy stockings,” rejoined Lady Juliana, with a yawn.  “It’s monstrous good of you to make them, to be sure; but it must be a shocking bore! and such a trouble!” and another long yawn succeeded.

“Not half such a bore to me as to sit idle,” returned Mrs. Douglas, with a smile, “nor near so much trouble as you undergo with your favourites.”

Lady Juliana made no reply, but turning from her sister-in-law, soon was, or affected to be, sound a sleep, from which she was only roused by the entrance of the gentlemen.  “A rubber or a reel, my Leddie?” asked the Laird, going up to his daughter-in-law.

“Julia, love,” said her husband, “my father asks you if you choose cards or dancing.”

“There’s nobody to dance with,” said she, casting a languid glance around; “I’ll play at cards.”

“Not whist, surely!” said Henry.

“Whist!  Oh, heavens, no.”

“Weel, weel, you youngsters will get a roundgame; come, my Leddy Maclaughlan, Grizzy, Mrs. Douglas, hey for the odd trick and the honours!”

“What would your Ladyship choose to play at?’ asked Miss Jacky, advancing with a pack of cards in one hand, and a box of counters in the other.