"I am an old soldier, sir, I thank Heaven"—hiccup—
"An old skinker you mean, John. But, come, never mind, shew me the way to your mistress, old lad."
John Gudyill led the way to the stone-hall, where Lady Margaret was fidgetting about, superintending, arranging, and re- forming the preparations made for the reception of the celebrated Claverhouse, whom one party honoured and extolled as a hero, and another execrated as a blood-thirsty oppressor.
"Did I not tell you," said Lady Margaret to her principal female attendant—"did I not tell you, Mysie, that it was my especial pleasure on this occasion to have every thing in the precise order wherein it was upon that famous morning when his most sacred majesty partook of his disjune at Tillietudlem?"
"Doubtless, such were your leddyship's commands, and to the best of my remembrance"———was Mysie answering, when
