Miss Thomson was a very fine-looking old lady, with keen, though also kind grey eyes, looking out from rather shaggy eyebrows, and an open frank smile on her mouth.  The colour of health still bloomed on a cheek that had seen sixty summers and winters, and the elasticity of youth had only been transformed into the dignity and repose of a green old age.  It is better to be at the head of the commonalty than dragging in the rear of the gentry, and for substantial comfort, liberal housekeeping, generous almsgiving, and frank hospitality, the farmhouse of Allendale was out and out superior to the mansion of Moss Tower, where the Dalzells had lived for at least two centuries.

As Mrs. Dalzell’s note had been introductory and not explanatory, Miss Thomson could not guess the cause of the unexpected visit.  She, however, kindly welcomed Miss Melville, and asked her to sit down, which Jane did with an ease and youthful dignity that was as suitable to her time of life as Miss Thomson’s at three-score.

“I have called, madam,” said Jane, “because I have always admired you, and wished to know you; and also because at this critical juncture I have thought that your advice would be far more valuable to me than that of people who have never made an effort or conquered an obstacle.  You know our position”—­and she glanced at the open newspaper.

“Yes, I do.  I feel both surprised and grieved at your uncle’s extraordinary settlement,” said Miss Thomson.

“My uncle always used to point to you as an instance of what women could do if they tried, and I am sure he must have had you in his eye when he felt so sure of my success in life.  Could you, would you teach me to farm, and I will keep your books, write your letters, manage your household, be your factotum, if you will allow me.  I have studied agricultural chemistry, and if you would permit me to learn from you the practical details of farming operations, I might really be of use to you.”

Miss Thomson shook her head.  “My dear girl, you do not know what you ask.  Without capital, and a large capital, no one need think of taking a farm in Scotland; and all those things that you offer to do for me are precisely the things that I can do for myself, and I hope will be able to do for the next ten years.  I should be better for an assistant, it is true, but it must be some one who can ride to market, buy stock, sell to butchers, take or let grass parks, and oversee my working farm steward, for I am getting rather old for such long rides as I have been in the habit of taking on the farm.  And, my poor girl, anxious as I am to befriend you in your straits, and to encourage your honest ambition, I have nephews and nieces, and grand-nephews and grand-nieces of my own, who have all claims upon me.  My two married sisters have large families, and not very much to keep them on, so I have to help in various ways.  Do as you like, the burden of bringing up the next generation is pretty equally divided among