"Wherefore, Madam?"
"Because," said she, roguishly, with half-closed eyes, "you twist all one's speeches into compliments so readily and bluntly, and so quite unlike our douce Scots' gallants (who always let slip the opportunity while they are making up their minds), that you quite remind me of Monsieur Minuette, who came here with the Duke of York. Ah, you remember him, with his long sword—how like a grasshopper on a pin he looked; and he tried stoutly with his frightful rigadoon and the bretagne, to put our good old Scottish dances into the shade, and so out of fashion. And yet Aunt Grizel says that, to see the Lady Anne (she that is now princess of Denmark), so tall and stately, and Claverhouse, so graceful and courtly, dancing the Italian vault-step, enraptured every body. O, it it was quite a sight.—But there jangles the house-bell, and now let us hie to breakfast."
Once more she placed her hand in Walter's, and they returned to the chamber of dais, where Lady Bruntisfield, no longer disguised in the humble attire of a cottar, but in all her pristine splendour of perfumed brocade, and starched magnificence of point lace and puffed locks frizzled up like a tower on her stately head, welcomed Walter with a courtesy of King Charles the First's days, and kissed her grandniece.
After a long and solemn grace, the repast began. The most substantial breakfast of these degenerate days would dwindle into insignificance when compared with that which loaded the long oaken table of Bruntisfield House. In the centre smoked a vast urn of coffee, surrounded by diminutive cups of dark-blue china, flanked on the right by a side of mutton roasted, on the left by a gigantic capon; a dish of wild ducks balanced another of trout, both being furnished by the adjacent loch; broiled haddocks, pickled salmon, kippered herrings, pyramids of eggs, and piles of oat and barley-cakes; wheaten loaves and crystal cups of honey were also there; but chief above all towered a vast tankard of spiced ale; beside it stood a long-necked bottle of strong waters to whet the appetite, lest through the eyes it should fairly become satisfied by the mere sight of so many edibles.
At the lower end of the board, the servants were accommodated with bickers and cogues of porridge and milk, which they supped with cutty-spoons of black horn, while two mighty trenchers of polished pewter held the magazines from which they drew their supplies. The custom of domestics sitting at the same table with their superiors was then almost obsolete; but Lady Grizel, whose memories and prejudices went back to the days of King James VI., still retained the ancient fashion, and consequently all her household sat down with her, save two old serving-men in green livery, with her crest on their sleeves: these were in attendance each as an écuyer tranchant, or cutting squire. On the party being joined by the ground bailie, Syme of the Greenhill, who, in consequence of his being a bonnet-laird, was permitted to sit above the salt, the important business of making breakfast proceeded with all the gravity and attention such a noble display deserved. Cheerful and good-humoured, though punctilious to excess, like every noble matron of her time, Lady Grizel Napier did the honours of the feast with that peculiar grace which makes a guest feel so much at home. She never once recurred to late events, but conversed affably on the topics of the day, like Lilian, investing little trifles with an air of interest that made them quite new and charming to Walter; for though aged and failing fast, she still possessed that art so agreeable in a well-bred woman, that even when she talked nonsense, one could scarcely have thought it so; and certainly, when witches, spells, and ghosts were the theme, the wise and gentle King James himself was nothing to her in credulity.
"Symon, I hope ye obeyed my injunctions to the letter, in the affair o' your bairn's hooping-cough," said the old lady, who took an active hand in all the family matters of her vassalage.
"Faith did I, my Lady, but found the wee thing no' a hair the better of it. It is an unco trouble, the cough, but Lucky Elshender says, gif I put my forefinger down the bairn's throat for fifteen minutes, it will never cough mair."
"I'll warrant it o' that," said the old lady, scornfully; "but how dare she prescribe for any bairn on the barony without consulting me? I'll gang o'er in the gloaming and see about it."
"Mony thanks to your Ladyship."
An air or two on the virginals, and Lady Anne Bothwell's touching Lament performed at full length by Lilian in her sweetest manner concluded the visit, and Walter reluctantly prepared to retire. Lady Bruntisfield and Lilian departed in their sedans with two armed servants before and two behind them, to pay a most ceremonious visit of thanks to Lord Dunbarton and his beautiful Countess, and Fenton, after accompanying them to the arch of the Bristo Port, left them to the care of their retinue, and receiving a warm invitation to visit them soon again, pursued his way in a maze of stirring thoughts through the steep wynds, narrow closes, and crowded streets of the city to his sombre quarters in the Canongate.