"Or if you lacked a sharp rapier, Sir," cried a bare-armed swordslipper, leaning over his half door, and taking up the chaunt; "a corslet o' Milan that would turn a cannon-ball. I have spurs o' Rippon steel, dirks of Parma, pikes of Culross, blades of Toledo, pistols of Glasgow, and gude Kilmaurs whittles, the best of a'."
"O what a Babel it is!" said Lilian.
"Or a warm roquelaure to wear in the camp, my handsome gentleman?" cried Lucky Diaper, a brisk and comely haberdasher in a quilted gown, high-heeled shoes and lace-edged coif. "What are ye buying my Lady Lilian? You will be setting up house I warrant, and are come to seek for the plenishing. Walk in, sir—walk in, madam. I have cushions o' velvet for hall-settles and window-seats stuffed with Orkney down—buird-claiths of worsted and silk, servants (or napkins, as the Southrons ca' them) o' Dornick and Flanders' damask, some sewit, and others plain—crammasie codwairs, and sheets just without number. What want ye my bonny leddy, and when does the bridal come off?"
"Malediction on her chatter!" muttered Clermistonlee, who lounged at the door. Walter smiled, Lilian blushed and trembled between diffidence and anger; but her reply was interrupted by the entrance of a customer, who, lifting his bonnet respectfully to her, tendered his order to Lucky Diaper, who immediately reddened up with indignation, and eyeing him askance, said sharply,
"Set ye up, indeed, wi' a coleur-du-roi coat of three pile taffeta; its like the impudence that makes ye speir before your betters are served. My certie! what is this world coming to when a loon o' a baxter, comes spiering for the like o' that? Awa wi' ye, man, awa! Galloway-white, drab-de-frieze, or buckram conform to the Act o' Apparel are gude enough for one of your degree!"
The unfortunate baker was forced to retreat, for the draper of 1688 thought very differently from one of the present day.
"Ay, Madam Lilian, there was that ill-faured wife o' Baillie Jaffray, who bydes up the Stinking Style (just aboon the Knight o' Coates' lodging), gaed down the gate not an hour ago, wi' a hood o' silken crammassie wi' champit figures as red as her ain neb, and a mantle wi' passments sevvit round the craig o't. What think ye o' that for a wabster's wife in the Lawnmarket? I mind the time when sic presumption would have found her a cauld lodging in the Water Hole. That was in 1672, when the Apparel Act was strictly enforced, and nane but gentlefolk daured to ruffle it on the plainstanes in silk, taffeta, lace or furring, broidery or miniver; but the times are changing fast. I am getting auld now; and neighbours say, am far behind the world.
"Bonny Florentine blue that is, my lady; and weel would it become your sweet face, if pinkit out wi' red satin à-la-mode. Lack ye a sword-knot, young gentleman, blue and white, our auld Scottish cockade? In what can I serve ye? A' the cavaliers of my Lord Dunbarton ken me; for I had a fair laddie once, that fell in their ranks at Tangier (rest him, God!), far, far awa' among the black-avised unco's."
When a pause in the bustling dealer's garrulity permitted her to speak, Lilian requested so much of the finest blue velvet as would make a scarf for the shoulder, with fringe and embroidery thread, and spangles of gold and silver.
"I see, madam—I ken," resumed Lucky Diaper with a smirk of intelligence; "'tis a scarf for this winsome gentleman. Oh, hinny, ye needna blush; I mind the time when your lady mother came here to order a braw plenishing for her bridal and bedecking for her chamber-of-dais; and a blythe woman I was to serve her! Blue taffeta?—you'll be taking the very best Genoa, I warrant. It is a pleasure to serve gentlefolk; but it gars my heart grieve when loons like that baxter body think o' decking their ill-faured heads and hoghs in my fine Florence silk and Sheffield claith. Come, bustle, lassies, and show my Lady Lilian our velvets."