"'One night, not long ago, we had been out to dinner; and on returning at a pretty late hour, we found the gentleman stretched out comfortably on the dining-room rug. Where in the world did this dog come from? I said to the servants. They couldn't tell; they declared the doors had been long shut, and that they had never set eyes on him till that minute.'
"'Well,' I said, 'don't turn him out; he'll no doubt be claimed by some one in the neighbourhood—for he had quite the manners and air of a dog accustomed to good society; and I liked his large, expressive eyes. He made himself quite at home; and now we have discovered what a strangely intelligent creature he is, I hope no one will claim him, for I should be very sorry to part with him. But,' added she, 'poor Mrs. X. can't endure him.' Mrs. X., I must mention, was a widow lady, also on a visit there, with an only son.
"'Why?' said I.
"'It is rather singular, certainly,' said she; but whenever young X. is in the room, the dog never takes his eyes off his face—you see he has peculiar eyes—they're full of meaning; and out of doors he does the same.'
"'Perhaps the dog has taken a fancy to him?' I suggested.
"'It does not seem to be that; no, I think he likes me and Mrs. C. and my children a great deal better. I can't tell what it is; but if you watch, you'll see it.'
"I did, and it was really remarkable, and evidently annoyed Mrs. X. very much. The young man affected to laugh at it, but I don't think he liked it altogether.
"Suddenly, one evening, Mrs. X.—whose visit was to have extended to some weeks longer, announced that she should take her departure in a few days. I suspected this move was occasioned by her desire to get away from the dog, and so did my hostess—and we both thought it absurd.
"Mr. L. being obliged to return to London, we took our leave the morning after this announcement was made; but we had scarcely arrived there, when a letter from my friend followed, informing me that young Mr. X. had been unfortunately drowned in the fish-pond, and that the dog had never been seen since the accident, though they had made inquiries and sought for him in every direction. Whence he came, or whither he went, they were never able to discover.
"But," said Mrs. L., "as this is not a ghost story, I will tell you another anecdote that belongs more legitimately to the subjects you are treating of. Once, when we were travelling in the North, Mr. L. fell ill of a fever at Paisley. This detained us there, and the minister called on us. When Mr. L. recovered, we returned his visit; and, in the course of conversation, some of the old customs of the Scotch fell under discussion; amongst others the cutty stool, which we had heard still subsisted.