"They do not burn wood like this in London!" "You will burn it at Black Hill.

I hope that you like it better and better ?" "It has possibilities, ma'am.

Undoubtedly," said Mr.Touris, the Scots adventurer for fortune, set up as merchant-trader in London, making his fortune by "interloping" voyages to India, but now shareholder and part and lot of the East India Company--"undoubtedly the place has possibilities." He warmed his hands.

"Well, it would taste good to come back to Scotland--!" His words might have been finished out, "and laird it, rich and influential, where once I went forth, cadet of a good family, but poorer than a church mouse!" Mrs.Jardine made a murmur of hope that he _would_ come back to Scotland.

But the laird looked with a kind of large gloom at the reflection of fire and candle in battered breastplate and morion and crossed pikes.
Supper was brought in by two maids, Eppie and Phemie, and with them came old Lauchlinson, the butler.