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cherishing and protecting. No parent could love with more sincerity but in addition to the pleasing and proud feeling of the father of so admirable a daughter, a sentiment of pity strengthened and exalted his delight in her. The misfortunes of her natural parents had thrown her adrift on the wide world; and with more than common claims to parental love and care, she was exposed to feel much from the want of both. His generosity, as well as his affection, was, in consequence, extended over her; and he not only loved her for her worth, but because he had himself been kind to her.

He had also seen in Southennan, though his knowledge was not of an intimate kind, the many excellent qualities which he has been described as possessing. That he preferred his noble ingenuousness to the talents and address of Chatelard, could not be doubted. Magnanimous minds have a natural affinity to each other; and the Count believed, that among the qualities of Southennan, were many of those merits which had been commended as graces in his own youth. He was likewise aware, that the obligations which he had heard in the morning, Knockwhinnie owed to him, rendered it probable that Adelaide could form no connexion in life more agreeable her to father. But while he admitted this sentiment, he wished that Knockwhinnie had no claim, nor right, nor interest, to affect the destiny of Adelaide; and yet he was almost angry with himself for thinking so: but his heart was rebellious, even while acknowledging that the repugnance which he cherished involuntarily against him, was unjust. It was seemingly a curious and a strange antipathy by which he was actuated; but is it uncommon?

CHAPTER XXXI.

"Where's Potpan, that he helps not to take away? he shift a trencher! he scrape a trencher !”—

ROMEO AND JULIET.

SOUTHENNAN lingered in the garden with Adelaide, until it was near the dinner hour at the Unicorn, when he took his leave, promising to pay his respects to her at the Reception in the evening.

The interview, inasmuch as it had enabled him to cultivate some degree of acquaintance, had been pleasing and satisfactory. He had discovered, in the state of her father, an amulet by which he could affect her feelings; or rather, he had excited, on her father's account, some degree of interest towards himself. But he could not disguise the fact, that she was cold and absent towards him on all other topics; and the knowledge of her affections being attracted by Chatelard, made him full of doubt, and affected him with a painful anxiety.

On reaching the Unicorn, he met the host, Balwham, at the door, with a busy look, bustling and impatient for his arrival, the dinner being ready, and the other guests assembled.

The Maister was a little, fat, short personage, with a round bright bald head, small twinkling eyes, and as chubby in the cheeks as a cherub on a tomb-stone. He had a servit or towel under his arm, and a white linen apron, clean from the fold, tied before him. The day being warm, he had doffed his coat, and wore his shirt sleeves. A leathern strap served him for a girdle, in which was stuck in a sheath a carving knife and fork; and a steel for sharpening, somewhat daintily. fashioned, hung from it. In other respects, he was dressed after the manner of the better sort of citizens; and, with red bows in his shoes, he wore also red hosen, which came over his knees, and were tied below them with black garters.

"Come awa', Southennan ! 'Od! but I hae been in a ploutie o' het water, for fear ye were na coming! And a' the gentlemen are just wud to see you, and to get their dinner; for I told them that there wasna' a brawer and a braver than yoursel' this day in the Court o' Scotland. Just come in, and I'll hae up the dishes in a jiffey !"

Southennan was accordingly ushered into the room, where the guests were waiting.

It was a large square apartment, very low in the ceiling, which consisted of but the beams that supported the floor of the incumbent apartments. They were of old dark oak, clumsily carved with flowers and true lovers' knots. Time had somewhat opened the seams of the floor above; and to prevent the dust from coming down, they were covered between the beams with strips of paper, dingy and fly-spotted. In one corner stood a huge wardrobe, open; but, instead of being filled with napery and clothes, as befitted its functions, it was garnished with gardevines, drinking-glasses, and blue pitchers of coarse delfware. On the lower shelf stood a

range of wickered flasks of wine, some unopened, and others half empty. Near this wardrobe a long narrow table, higher considerably than usual, was covered with a Dutch table-cloth, on which were set out various articles and utensils, that would be wanted during dinner. Among other things it exhibited two large masses of butter, on lordly wooden dishes, and a huge cheese, that was almost still entire ; together with a plentiful assortment of horn spoons and pewter trenchers.

The dining-table, a spacious circle, stood in the middle of the room; it was also covered with bright Dutch damask. In the centre, a curiously-carved congregation of several saltcellars and spice-boxes stood, forming an antique ornament, not without beauty. Around this was placed a radiance of pewter spoons, with the handles pointing outward. The circumference without them was formed by a circle of Venetian drinking-glasses, as many as the guests, who, by the preparation of the table, appeared to be expected to the number of a dozen. Four large bright pewter flagons, foaming with ale, formed the angles of a square on the outside of the drinkingglasses. The space between them and the edge of the table was appropriated for the reception of the dishes and the covers of the guests.

The architecture of the table displayed considerable taste, something even of style, every thing was neat, the order was formed with some perception of elegance, and gave good assurance of an abundant entertainment. Nor were the hopes it inspired disappointed.

Maister Balwham himself brought in the first dish—a large cut of boiled salmon, split open and lying on its back, with the bone which had been taken out, seasoned and grilled, lying across it, like a baton sinister on a shield of bastardy. Opposite to this majestical dish was placed an equal ashet of crappit heads-an ancient and much approved dainty of the Scottish nation. At right angles were placed, on the one side a capacious tureen of savoury broth, from the centre of which the black muzzle of a singed sheep's head looked as if breathing; on the other, opposite, a haggis. These were the cardinal points of the feast. Between them, with an equal attention to symmetry, stood in each space a boiled and roasted fowl on the same plate; flanked, on the one side, by a hecatomb of mutton chops, and on the other a black and white pudding en saltier. In the innner space, between this zodiac of substantials, were placed various constellations of tartlets, confections, and other stellar-shaped preserves and comfits. But the pride

of the feast was a large haunch of venison, placed upon the sideboard, at which, whetting his carving-knife, the host took his station to do duty. Looking around with a self-complacent smile of pride and triumph, he called on our hero aloud by name, and requested him to take his seat, the rest of the guests standing until he had done so :-then was the onslaught and the battle.

Besides the host, the guests were attended by some of their own servants. Hughoc waited on his master. But, independent of the gentlemen's servants, there were two others belonging to the house. One of them was a tall, thin, sallow-faced, lank-haired, elderly person, steaming with perspiration; the other, his wife, a dame of considerable antiquity; she wore a large flannel hood, with long lappets, that swept the covers with their corners as she moved or presented them to the guests. She too, having assisted in the cookery, was not in coolest condition; but, nevertheless, there was no hinderance in the service, and the guests did justice both to the quantity and quality of the provender. When the edge had been taken off their appetite, some of them called for wine, and the flasks which we have before described were distributed among their respective owners. A fresh unopened one was placed before our hero, and the Venetian goblet, from which he drank of the ale in the flagons, served for a vehicle to his wine.

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During dinner, a commendable taciturnity was generally observed. The guests, for the most part, were well-born French gentlemen civil, not only to each other, but polite and even officious in their attention to the Scottish guests among them, some of whom did not appear to be well acquainted with the uses of the utensils on the table. They all knew, however, somewhat of the occult purposes of knives and forks, for they cut up the meat into morsels, and then laying down the knife and fork, employed their fingers, according to the most primitive practice, in conveying it to their lips. But, nevertheless, all passed cheerfully, and when the table began to be denuded of its ornaments, there was an evident disposition to hilarity among the French, and something very like domestication and docility among the Scots.

CHAPTER XXXII.

"No offence to the general, or any man of quality!"

OTHELLO.

ALTHOUGH the dinner at the Unicorn was not the first of which Southennan had partaken in public, yet it was, in many respects, a novelty to him. In the character of the guests he early perceived there was considerable diversity. The smoothness of the French was engaging and conciliatory; and the stiff self-opinionated conduc. of his countrymen was not disagreeable; it was even picturesque. Though in the parties themselves there was great solemnity about many things, still it was a solemnity so much above the occasion, that it could not be observed without affording tacit amusement.

Southennan was first made aware of what might justly be called the awkward attempts at civility on the part of the Scots, by observing that they were rather tolerated by the Frenchmen, than considered upon a par with them. This was particularly the case with a sturdy homespun laird, known to the party by the name of Cornylees of that Ilk.

That gentleman had not benefited, as his own man said of him, "a great deal by the kittle craft o' the dominie; nor indeed, was it to be expected that a personage o' his acres, would tak' meikle trouble wi' sic crockit curiosities as the A. B. C." Cornylees, however, had a great deal of mother-wit. He carried a shrewd eye in his head, and had a mind in his breast that was not without reflection. At home he was a stirring, active, looking-to-all-thing carle. His beasts were about the best, and the best tended in the West country. His servants were buirdly bustling fellows, on jocose terms with himself. No laird of double his means, in all the country side, rode a better horse, or could give to the stranger within his gates a more hearty round and rough kitchen to his welcome. Cornylees was, indeed, a sort of paragon among the western lairds; he kept, what was well described by his neighbours