Dundee said to your Duke of Gordon." The entranced Scotsman little

knew that she had perfected this style of conversation by long
experience with the Q.C.'s of England. Talk about my being as deep

as the Currie Brig (whatever it may be); Salemina is deeper than the
Atlantic Ocean! I shall take pains to inform her Writer to the

Signet, after dinner, that she eats sugar on her porridge every
morning; that will show him her nationality conclusively.

The earl took the greatest interest in my new ancestors, and
approved thoroughly of my choice. He thinks I must have been named

for Lady Penelope Belhaven, who lived in Leven Lodge, one of the
country villas of the Earls of Leven, from whom he himself is

descended. "Does that make us relatives?" I asked. "Relatives,
most assuredly," he replied, "but not too near to destroy the charm

of friendship."
He thought it a great deal nicer to select one's own forebears than

to allow them all the responsibility, and said it would save a world
of trouble if the method could be universally adopted. He added

that he should be glad to part with a good many of his, but doubted
whether I would accept them, as they were `rather a scratch lot.'

(I use his own language, which I thought delightfully" target="_blank" title="ad.大喜，欣然">delightfully easy for a
belted earl.) He was charmed with the story of Francesca and the

lamiter, and offered to drive me to Kildonan House, Helmsdale, on
the first fine day. I told him he was quite safe in making the

proposition, for we had already had the fine day, and we understood
that the climate had exhausted itself and retired for the season.

The gentleman on my left, a distinguished Dean of the Thistle, gave
me a few moments' discomfort by telling me that the old custom of

`rounds' of toasts still prevailed at Lady Baird's on formal
occasions, and that before the ladies retired every one would be

called upon for appropriate `sentiments.'
"What sort of sentiments?" I inquired, quite overcome with terror.

"Oh, epigrammatic sentences expressive of moral feelings or
virtues," replied my neighbour easily. "They are not quite as

formal and hackneyed now as they were in the olden time, when some
of the favourite toasts were `May the pleasure of the evening bear

the reflections of the morning!' `May the friends of our youth be
the companions of our old age!' `May the honest heart never feel

distress!' `May the hand of charity wipe the eye of sorrow!'"
"I can never do it in the world!" I ejaculated. "Oh, one ought

never, never to leave one's own country! A light-minded and cynical
English gentleman told me that I should frequently be called upon to

read hymns and recite verses of Scripture at family dinners in
Edinburgh, and I hope I am always prepared to do that; but nobody

warned me that I should have to evolve epigrammatic sentiments on
the spur of the moment."

My confusion was so evident that the good dean relented and
confessed that he was imposing upon my ignorance. He made me laugh

heartily at the story of a poor dominie at Arndilly. He was called
upon in his turn, at a large party, and having nothing to aid him in

an exercise to which he was new save the example of his
predecessors, lifted his glass after much writhing and groaning and

gave, "The reflection of the moon in the cawm bosom of the lake!"
At this moment Lady Baird glanced at me, and we all rose to go into

the drawing-room; but on the way from my chair to the door, whither
the earl escorted me, he said gallantly, "I suppose the men in your

country do not take champagne at dinner? I cannot fancy their
craving it when dining beside an American woman!"

That was charming, though he did pay my country a compliment at my
expense. One likes, of course, to have the type recognised as fine;

at the same time his remark would have been more flattering if it
had been less sweeping.

When I remember that he offered me his ancestors, asked me to drive
two hundred and eighty miles, and likened me to champagne, I feel

that, with my heart already occupied and my hand promised, I could
hardly have accomplished more in the course of a single dinner-hour.

Chapter VII. Francesca meets th' unconquer'd Scot.
Francesca's experiences were not so fortunate; indeed, I have never

seen her more out of sorts than she was during our long chat over
the fire, after our return to Breadalbane Terrace.

"How did you get on with your delightful minister?" inquired
Salemina of the young lady, as she flung her unoffending wrap over

the back of a chair. "He was quite the handsomest man in the room;
who is he?"

"He is the Reverend Ronald Macdonald, and the most disagreeable,
condescending, ill-tempered prig I ever met!"

"Why, Francesca!" I exclaimed. "Lady Baird speaks of him as her
favourite nephew, and says he is full of charm."

"He is just as full of charm as he was when I met him," returned the
girl nonchalantly; "that is, he parted with none of it this evening.

He was incorrigibly stiff and rude, and oh! so Scotch! I believe if
one punctured him with a hat-pin, oatmeal would fly into the air!"

"Doubtless you acquainted him, early in the evening, with the
immeasurable advantages of our sleeping-car system, the superiority

of our fast-running elevators, and the height of our buildings?"
observed Salemina.

"I mentioned them," Francesca answered evasively.
"You naturally inveighed against the Scotch climate?"

"Oh, I alluded to it; but only when he said that our hot summers
must be insufferable."

"I suppose you repeated the remark you made at luncheon, that the
ladies you had seen in Princes Street were excessively plain?"

"Yes, I did!" she replied hotly; "but that was because he said that
American girls generally looked bloodless and frail. He asked if it

were really true that they ate chalk and slate pencils. Wasn't that
unendurable? I answered that those were the chief solid article of

food, but that after their complexions were established, so to
speak, their parents often allowed them pickles and native claret to

vary the diet."
"What did he say to that?" I asked.

"Oh, he said, `Quite so, quite so'; that was his invariable response
to all my witticisms. Then when I told him casually that the shops

looked very small and dark and stuffy here, and that there were not
as many tartans and plaids in the windows as we had expected, he

remarked that as to the latter point, the American season had not
opened yet! Presently he asserted that no royal city in Europe

could boast ten centuries of such glorious and stirring history as
Edinburgh. I said it did not appear to be stirring much at present,

and that everything in Scotland seemed a little slow to an American;
that he could have no idea of push or enterprise until he visited a

city like Chicago. He retorted that, happily, Edinburgh was
peculiarly free from the taint of the ledger and the counting-house;

that it was Weimar without a Goethe, Boston without its twang!"
"Incredible!" cried Salemina, deeply wounded in her local pride.

"He never could have said `twang' unless you had tried him beyond
measure!"

"I dare say I did; he is easily tried," returned Francesca. "I
asked him, sarcastically, if he had ever been in Boston. `No,' he

said, `it is not necessary to GO there! And while we are discussing
these matters,' he went on, `how is your American dyspepsia these

days,--have you decided what is the cause of it?'
"'Yes, we have,' said I, as quick as a flash; `we have always taken

in more foreigners than we could assimilate!' I wanted to tell him
that one Scotsman of his type would upset the national digestion

anywhere, but I restrained myself."
"I am glad you did restrain yourself--once," exclaimed Salemina.

"What a tactful person the Reverend Ronald must be, if you have
reported him faithfully! Why didn't you give him up, and turn to