only wondering if, in the extracting of testimony from the common

mind, the thumbscrew might not have been more necessary with some
nations than with others.

Chapter V. We emulate the Jackdaw.
Invitations had been pouring in upon us since the delivery of our

letters of introduction, and it was now the evening of our debut in
Edinburgh society. Francesca had volunteered to perform the task of

leaving cards, ordering a private victoria for the purpose, and
arraying herself in purple and fine linen.

"Much depends upon the first impression," she had said. "Miss
Hamilton's `party' may not be gifted, but it is well-dressed. My

hope is that some of our future hostesses will be looking from the
second-story front-windows. If they are, I can assure them in

advance that I shall be a national advertisement."
It is needless to remark that as it began to rain heavily as she was

leaving the house, she was obliged to send back the open carriage,
and order, to save time, one of the public cabs from the stand in

the Terrace.
"Would you mind having the lamiter, being first in line?" asked

Susanna of Salemina, who had transmitted the command.
When Salemina fails to understand anything, the world is kept in

complete ignorance.--Least of all would she stoop to ask a humble
maidservant to translate the vernacular of the country; so she

replied affably, "Certainly, Susanna, that is the kind we always
prefer. I suppose it is covered?"

Francesca did not notice, until her coachman alighted to deliver the
first letter and cards, that he had one club foot and one wooden

leg; it was then that the full significance of `lamiter' came to
her. He was covered, however, as Salemina had supposed, and the

occurrence gave us a precious opportunity of chaffing that dungeon
of learning. He was tolerably alert and vigorous, too, although he

certainly did not impartelegance to a vehicle, and he knew every
street in the court end of Edinburgh, and every close and wynd in

the Old Town. On this our first meeting with him, he faltered only
when Francesca asked him last of all to drive to `Kildonan House,

Helmsdale'; supposing, not unnaturally, that it was as well known an
address as Morningside House, Tipperlinn, whence she had just come.

The lamiter had never heard of Kildonan House nor of Helmsdale, and
he had driven in the streets of Auld Reekie for thirty years. None

of the drivers whom he consulted could supply any information;
Susanna Crum cudna say that she had ever heard of it, nor could Mrs.

M'Collop, nor could Miss Diggity-Dalgety. It was reserved for Lady
Baird to explain that Helmsdale was two hundred and eighty miles

north, and that Kildonan House was ten miles from the Helmsdale
railway station, so that the poor lamiter would have had a weary

drive even had he known the way. The friends who had given us
letters to Mr. and Mrs. Jameson-Inglis (Jimmyson-Ingals) must have

expected us either to visit John o' Groats on the northern border,
and drop in on Kildonan House en route, or to send our note of

introduction by post and await an invitation to pass the summer. At
all events, the anecdote proved very pleasing to our Edinburgh

acquaintances. I hardly know whether, if they should visit America,
they would enjoy tales of their own stupidity as hugely as they did

the tales of ours, but they really were very appreciative in this
particular, and it is but justice to ourselves to say that we gave

them every opportunity for enjoyment.
But I must go back to our first grand dinner in Scotland. We were

dressed at quarter-past seven, when, in looking at the invitation
again, we discovered that the dinner-hour was eight o'clock, not

seven-thirty. Susanna did not happen to know the exact approximate
distance to Fotheringay Crescent, but the maiden Boots affirmed that

it was only two minutes' drive, so we sat down in front of the fire
to chat.

It was Lady Baird's birthday feast to which we had been bidden, and
we had done our best to honour the occasion. We had prepared a

large bouquet tied with the Maclean tartan (Lady Baird is a
Maclean), and had printed in gold letters on one of the ribbons,

`Another for Hector,' the battle-cry of the clan. We each wore a
sprig of holly, because it is the badge of the family, while I added

a girdle and shoulder-knot of tartan velvet to my pale green gown,
and borrowed Francesca's emeraldnecklace,--persuading her that she

was too young to wear such jewels in the old country.
Francesca was miserablyenvious that she had not thought of tartans

first. "You may consider yourself `geyan fine,' all covered over
with Scotch plaid, but I wouldn't be so `kenspeckle' for worlds!"

she said, using expressions borrowed from Mrs. M'Collop; "and as for
disguising your nationality, do not flatter yourself that you look

like anything but an American. I forgot to tell you the
conversation I overheard in the tram this morning, between a mother

and daughter, who were talking about us, I dare say. `Have they any
proper frocks for so large a party, Bella?' asked the mother.

"'I thought I explained in the beginning, mamma, that they are
Americans.'

"'Still, you know they are only travelling,--just passing through,
as it were; they may not be familiar with our customs, and we do

want our party to be a smart one.'
"'Wait until you see them, mamma, and you will probably feel like

hiding your diminished head! It is my belief that if an American
lady takes a half-hour journey in a tram she carries full evening

dress and a diamond necklace, in case anything should happen on the
way. I am not in the least nervous about their appearance. I only

hope that they will not be too exuberant; American girls are so
frightfully vivacious and informal, I always feel as if I were being

taken by the throat!'"
"A picturesque, though rather vigorous expression; however, it does

no harm to be perfectly dressed," said Salemina consciously, putting
a steel embroidered slipper on the fender and settling the holly in

the silver folds of her gown; "then when they discover that we are
all well bred, and that one of us is intelligent, it will be the

more credit to the country that gave us birth."
"Of course it is impossible to tell what country did give YOU

birth," retorted Francesca, "but that will only be to your
advantage--away from home!"

Francesca is inflexibly, almost aggressively American, but Salemina
is a citizen of the world. If the United States should be involved

in a war, I am confident that Salemina would be in front with the
other Gatling guns, for in that case a principle would be at stake;

but in all lesser matters she is extremely unprejudiced. She
prefers German music, Italian climate, French dressmakers, English

tailors, Japanese manners, and American--American something--I have
forgotten just what; it is either the ice-cream soda or the form of

government,--I can't remember which.
"I wonder why they named it `Fotheringay' Crescent," mused

Francesca. "Some association with Mary Stuart, of course. Poor,
poor, pretty lady! A free queen only six years, and think of the

number of beds she slept in, and the number of trees she planted; we
have already seen, I am afraid to say how many. When did she

govern, when did she scheme, above all when did she flirt, with all
this racing and chasing over the country? Mrs. M'Collop calls Anne

of Denmark a `sad scattercash' and Mary an `awfu' gadabout,' and I
am inclined to agree with her. By the way, when she was making my

bed this morning, she told me that her mother claimed descent from
the Stewarts of Appin, whoever they may be. She apologised for

Queen Mary's defects as if she were a distant family connection. If
so, then the famous Stuart charm has been lost somewhere, for Mrs

M'Collop certainly possesses no alluring curves of temperament."
"I am going to select some distinguishedancestors this very minute,

before I go to my first Edinburgh dinner," said I decidedly. "It