“Most ridiculous, Hopkins!  This poor woman must be suffering from a determination of poultry to the brain.  Ill as I am, I should have thought that nothing could amuse me.  But, really, this good creature starting up, and rushing here, as you say, as fast as her feet can carry her—­it’s impossible to resist it!  I positively think I must see Mrs. Inchbare.  With my active habits, this imprisonment to my room is dreadful.  I can neither sleep nor read.  Any thing, Hopkins, to divert my mind from myself:  It’s easy to get rid of her if she is too much for me.  Send her up.”

Mrs. Inchbare made her appearance, courtesying deferentially; amazed at the condescension which admitted her within the hallowed precincts of Lady Lundie’s room.

“Take a chair,” said her ladyship, graciously.  “I am suffering from illness, as you perceive.”

“My certie! sick or well, yer leddyship’s a braw sight to see!” returned Mrs. Inchbare profoundly impressed by the elegant costume which illness assumes when illness appears in the regions of high life.

“I am far from being in a fit state to receive any body,” proceeded Lady Lundie.  “But I had a motive for wishing to speak to you when you next came to my house.  I failed to treat a proposal you made to me, a short time since, in a friendly and neighborly way.  I beg you to understand that I regret having forgotten the consideration due from a person in my position to a person in yours.  I am obliged to say this under very unusual circumstances,” added her ladyship, with a glance round her magnificent bedroom, “through your unexpected promptitude in favoring me with a call.  You have lost no time, Mrs. Inchbare, in profiting by the message which I had the pleasure of sending to you.”

“Eh, my leddy, I wasna’ that sure (yer leddyship having ance changed yer mind) but that ye might e’en change again if I failed to strike, as they say, while the iron’s het.  I crave yer pardon, I’m sure, if I ha’ been ower hasty.  The pride o’ my hairt’s in my powltry—­and the black Spaniards’ (as they ca’ them) are a sair temptation to me to break the tenth commandment, sae lang as they’re a’ in yer leddyship’s possession, and nane o’ them in mine.”

“I am shocked to hear that I have been the innocent cause of your falling into temptation, Mrs. Inchbare!  Make your proposal—­and I shall be happy to meet it, if I can.”

“I must e’en be content wi’ what yer leddyship will condescend on.  A haitch o’ eggs if I can come by naething else.”

“There is something else you would prefer to a hatch of eggs?”

“I wad prefer,” said Mrs. Inchbare, modestly, “a cock and twa pullets.”

“Open the case on the table behind you,” said Lady Lundie, “and you will find some writing paper inside.  Give me a sheet of it—­and the pencil out of the tray.”

Eagerly watched by Mrs. Inchbare, she wrote an order to the poultry-woman, and held it out with a gracious smile.