 narrow edging.«
    In private, Morton could not help being much of her opinion; for anything
approaching to the dress of a gentleman sate as ill on the ungainly person of
his relative, as an open or generous expression would have done on his mean and
money-making features. He now extricated himself from Ailie to visit some of his
haunts in the neighbouring wood, while her own hands made an addition to the
dinner she was preparing, - an incident no otherwise remarkable than as it cost
the life of a fowl, which, for any event of less importance than the arrival of
Henry Morton, might have cackled on to a good old age, ere Ailie could have been
guilty of the extravagance of killing and dressing it. The meal was seasoned by
talk of old times, and by the plans which Ailie laid out for futurity, in which
she assigned her young master all the prudential habits of her old one, and
planned out the dexterity with which she was to exercise her duty as governante.
Morton let the old woman enjoy her day-dreams and castle-building during moments
of such pleasure, and deferred, till some fitter occasion, the communication of
his purpose again to return and spend his life upon the Continent.
    His next care was to lay aside his military dress, which he considered
likely to render more difficult his researches after Burley. He exchanged it for
a grey doublet and cloak, formerly his usual attire at Milnwood, and which Mrs.
Wilson produced from a chest of walnut-tree, wherein she had laid them aside,
without forgetting carefully to brush and air them from time to time. Morton
retained his sword and firearms, without which few persons travelled in those
unsettled times. When he appeared in his new attire, Mrs. Wilson was first
thankful »that they fitted him sae decently, since, though he was nae fatter,
yet he looked mair manly than when he was taen frae Milnwood.«
    Next she enlarged on the advantage of saving old clothes to be what she
called »beet-masters to the new,« and was far advanced in the history of a
velvet cloak belonging to the late Milnwood, which had first been converted to a
velvet doublet, and then into a pair of breeches, and appeared each time as good
as new, when Morton interrupted her account of its transmigration to bid her
good-bye.
    He gave, indeed, a sufficient shock to her feelings, by expressing the
necessity he was under of proceeding on his journey that evening.
    »And where are ye gaun? - and what wad ye do that for
