Seesta, Bessie!" exclaimed the old woman, leddy come doon to see us.

"here's the young

Mary Anne, tak' the cake aff the girdle, an'

pit on the kettle, quick. Ye'll tak' a sup tea wi' us, winna ye, hinny?" she continued, turning to Helen, "It'll mind me of auld lang syne, for mony's the time I hae supped my tea wi' yer blessed mither, when I lived at the Rectory."

Helen could not refuse an invitation given in such a simple, kindly way, and moreover she had some curiosity to see what tea in a Cumberland farmhouse was like. So she willingly consented to stay, which seemed to please her entertainers very much.

Eh, lass; she's nae pride, an' sich like nonsense aboot her," she heard Jessie's mother, Mrs. Lee, remark to her daughter in a whisper, as they were cutting up the girdle-cake into squares, at the long kitchen table, “I had heer'd tell, that the lasses i' the Sooth were that prood, that they wadna sit doon wi' honest country-folk, naeway. But she gets her manners frae her mither, I'll warrant her."

Cumberland

The tea was soon ready, and a fine spread there was. has always been famous for its cakes, and the tea-table at the Cleugh Holme kept up the character of the canny county. Two plates piled high with buttered girdle-cake, stood in the centre, surrounded with all manner of cakes. There was apple-cake, and secret-cake, and spicecake, and tea-cake, and ginger-bread; and to crown all, the home-made new milk-cheese, brought out for Helen's special edification, as it is considered a great dainty when eaten with spice-cake; and I advise all those who have not tried it, to taste this Cumberland delicacy. Besides these solid eatables, there was a glass dish of gooseberry jam, a plate of beautiful golden butter, for which the Cleugh Holme was famed, and a jug of the richest cream, which made Helen think her cup of tea the most delicious she had ever tasted. Soon after they had begun tea, there was a knock at the door, and Ronald entered.

"So, Miss Helen," he exclaimed, "you are feasting on the fat of the land, are you! How d'ye do, Nurse Esther? Jessie told me my sister was here, so I thought I'd come down and see you too."

Eh, it's the young Laird! dear heart, but I'm unco' glad to see ye, sir, ye'll maybe honour us wi' takin' a cup o' tea wi' us, sir? Mary Anne, set a chair for the young Laird."

Thanks, nurse, the favour is on your side, I think. I'm not the chap to refuse such jolly tea as this is."

"Eh, but I'm unco' glad to see ye here, my bairns!" exclaimed the

old woman. "Reach to, now, sir; tak' some berries wi' yer breed, Miss Helen, hinny; yer eatin' nought. Bessie, Miss Helen's cup's empty; pit plenty o' sugar in her tea-ye dinna tak' sugar, hinny?' deed but that's queer noo.”

If Dame Esther had had her way, Ronald and Helen would not have stopped till everything on the table had found its way down their throats. But even Ronald's appetite, good as it was, was not quite up to this feat, and he was obliged to give in at last, to the great disgust of the old nurse, who persisted in declaring that "the bairns had eaten nought at a', she feared they'd soon starve, gin they were to gang that gait much langer."

CHAPTER V.

SUNDAY AT CARROCKCLEUGH.

"The reader droned from the pulpit,

Like the murmur of many bees."

LONGFELLOW, King Witlaf's Drinking-Horn.

PUNCTUALLY as the cuckoo-clock struck ten, on Sunday morning, Mrs. Carrock issued from her house, equipped for Church. Every one in Carrockcleugh knew exactly how that lady would be dressed; for during the last fifteen or twenty years her Church-going costume had never varied. Very handsome her dress always was, though strictly neat and plain, for Mrs. Carrock cherished the hope, that if a lady of as much consequence as herself, set the example in this respect, it would be followed in time by all the finery-loving lasses of the village. But notwithstanding the awe in which "Madam," as they all called her, was held, her example in sobriety of apparel did not make much impression; for, though the plain black silk dress, black velvet cloak, and bonnet, of by no means a fashionable shape, with its plain black net veil, appeared before their eyes, regularly every Sunday, yet, (inconceivably strange as Mrs. Carrock thought it,) the wilful lasses would, somehow, go on wearing "those ridiculous fly-away bonnets, and rainbow dresses, which (we are quoting the lady of Burnstones, be it understood,) are the cause of half the set-up, bold notions, and unmaidenly behaviour of young girls of the present day. Things were very different when I was young!" she always added in conclusion. At a sober pace she walked down the road, carrying her large purple morocco Prayer Book, wrapped in a clean cambric handkerchief, and

followed at a respectful distance by her grandchildren, while Jessie and Jane-some paces behind again-brought up the rear. Walking at this exceedingly dignified pace it took them a full quarter of an hour to accomplish the distance between Burnstones and the village, which, as Ronald contemptuously remarked to his sister, ought to have been got over in five minutes.

"It's a regular, downright shame to make a fellow walk at such a confounded snail's pace," continued the indignant young gentleman, fretting and fuming himself red in the face. "I wish old Queen Bess was at Timbuctoo, or anywhere else but here. No, Helen, it's of no use your telling me to shut up, for I won't, and I don't care whether she hears me or not, there!"

Whether it was that Ronald did care after all, or whether this outburst, having relieved his outraged feelings, enabled him to amuse himself in the less dangerous way of staring at the people assembling for Church, certain it is, that for some time after this, to Helen's great relief, he held his tongue and refrained for the present, from the utterance of any more high treason. At the extreme end of the village stood the old Church, with its venerable grey tower, its quiet churchyard, and its snug little Rectory, in which lived the Rev. Samuel Dodds, and his worthy maiden sister. The bell was still ringing, when Mrs. Carrock and her party entered the Church, one of those fine old buildings which have been restored according to the bad taste of the last century. But even the high, box-like pews, (said to have been invented by Bishop Burnet, in the reign of Queen Anne, in hopes of making the court ladies attend to his dry sermons, by shutting out from their view, everything but his own person,) and the lath and plaster, with which some of the fine arches had been filled up, in order to make the building warmer, even these disfigurements could not entirely spoil the beauty of the venerable Church. The long rows of fine pillars with chiselled capitals of deeply cut foliage, which supported the lofty open roof; the arches which yet remained in some parts; the beautiful wood carving above the altar; the remains of gorgeously-tinted stained glass, which still filled some of the lancet windows; and above all the exquisitely chiselled monuments, of which there were a great many, made one forget everything else, in admiration of the beauties, which, though in a sad state of dilapidation, still remained to tell of what once had been, when old S. Hilda's was in its prime.

The Burnstones pew was in one of the side aisles at the east end, it

was high and square, and was furnished with very faded crimson cushions and hassocks, which looked as though they might harbour any amount of spiders, &c. Helen felt a shudder run through her as she knelt down on one of these fusty old things, and could with difficulty concentrate her thoughts, for visions of many-legged creatures would float through her mind, which seemed in imagination to be running all over her already. While they were sitting waiting for the service to begin, Helen unluckily caught sight of a huge, bloated old spider, (an insect to which she had a particular antipathy) creeping slowly along the opposite side of the pew, and she felt compelled to keep it in view, during the whole time she remained in Church; a circumstance which I am obliged to confess, prevented her from giving the attention to the service, which she had always been taught to do. Another thing which contributed to Helen's distraction of mind, was the presence of a certain old lady in the next pew, dressed with an eccentric disregard to taste, which put Helen in a perfect fidget. perfect fidget. A black and purple velvet bonnet, with a huge bunch of scarlet poppies stuck at the side, crowned this individual's head. A black satin mantle, ornamented with quite an unnecessary profusion of black lace, hung in a négligé sort of way about her shoulders; displaying the body of a black mohair dress, dotted all over with innumerable yellow and purple spots, which looked as though a box of wafers had been showered over it. Besides the objectionable way in which this old lady was dressed, she seemed to consider it necessary to make the responses in such a loud key as almost to prevent anybody else's voice from being heard, which obliged old David Craig (who filled the office of clerk as well as steward at Carrockcleugh) to raise his own cracked tones to such a pitch, that it seemed as if the two were vieing together which should drown the other's voice. Presently the singing began, the psalm was the Old Hundredth; and the choir, principally composed of women's voices, was led by old David, who accompanied them on a fiddle. Some of the singers seemed to be under the impression that the voice should come through the nose, while others would have sung remarkably well with a little training; but one and all had the habit of singing at a most funereal pace, and Helen would have given worlds to make them go a little quicker, and put a little more animation into their psalmody. Old David seemed to be of the same opinion, for Helen observed him making various signs and winks to the singers, during the performance of the first verse; and when he perceived that these had not the desired

effect, and that the second verse was progressing quite as slowly as its predecessor, he deliberately stopped the accompaniment, and turning to the choir, said in a very audible whisper, "A spice mair flavour in't, lasses;" and then with the most imperturbable gravity, struck up the music again. Ronald glanced at Helen, and immediately becoming convulsed, he took refuge in a most extraordinary fit of coughing, which gave him an excuse for turning away and holding his handkerchief up to his face. As for Helen, in her violent efforts to preserve her composure, she let fall her Prayer Book with such a noise, that the old lady in front turned round, and Mrs. Carrock raised her eyes, and fixed them with such a look of stern surprise on her granddaughter, that the poor girl turned crimson with shame. No one else in the Church paid much attention to old David's extraordinary interruption, for it was by no means an unusual occurrence to them. The next psalm was gone through very tolerably well; and the Rev. Samuel Dodds then got up into the pulpit and addressed his flock in a sermon that lasted a full hour, and which was of such a very learned nature, (a dissertation, in fact, on the Urim and Thummim of the Jewish High Priests, thickly interlarded with Latin, Greek, and Hebrew words,) that Helen found it useless to try and understand it, and the droning sound of the good old clergyman's voice had such a somnolent effect on her, that it required her utmost efforts to keep awake. Most of the congregation seemed to consider it a matter of course that they should fall asleep when their worthy parson was preaching, and Helen observed several of the elder men and women regularly settling themselves for a nap in the pew corners, with their handkerchiefs thrown over their faces. Ronald resisted the temptation of following the general example for some time, but to Helen's great dismay, his eyelids at length gradually closed, and he too went unmistakably asleep in his corner. Mrs. Carrock, however, sat in the stiffest attitude of attention the whole time, with her eyes fixed on the clergyman, and her hands folded in her lap. Helen could not but admire the ancient lady's fortitude, and resolution, for it really was very hard to keep awake during that apparently interminable sermon; and I believe that Helen herself would have succumbed at last, had she not been aroused from the torpid state into which she was gradually sinking, by a quick sharp noise in the next pew. She started and looked up, to behold the little old lady in the eccentric bonnet, leaning back in the seat, with her nose

A fact.