 of Lickpelf's
youngest daughter - she sits next us in the kirk, and that's the way I came to
think on't.«
    There was no more to be said, but again to wish the Laird joy, to taste a
cup of his liquor, and to walk back again to St. Leonard's, musing on the
mutability of human affairs and human resolutions. The expectation that one day
or other Jeanie would be Lady Dumbiedikes, had, in spite of himself kept a more
absolute possession of David's mind than he himself was aware of. At least, it
had hitherto seemed a union at all times within his daughter's reach, whenever
she might choose to give her silent lover any degree of encouragement, and now
it was vanished for ever. David returned, therefore, in no very gracious humour
for so good a man. He was angry with Jeanie for not having encouraged the Laird
- he was angry with the Laird for requiring encouragement - and he was angry
with himself for being angry at all on the occasion.
    On his return he found the gentleman who managed the Duke of Argyle's
affairs was desirous of seeing him, with a view to completing the arrangement
between them. Thus, after a brief repose, he was obliged to set off anew for
Edinburgh, so that old May Hettly declared, »That a' this was to end with the
master just walking himself aff his feet.«
    When the business respecting the farm had been talked over and arranged, the
professional gentleman acquainted David Deans, in answer to his inquiries
concerning the state of public worship, that it was the pleasure of the Duke to
put an excellent young clergyman, called Reuben Butler, into the parish, which
was to be his future residence.
    »Reuben Butler!« exclaimed David - »Reuben Butler, the usher at Liberton?«
    »The very same,« said the Duke's commissioner; »his Grace has heard an
excellent character of him, and has some hereditary obligations to him besides -
few ministers will be so comfortable as I am directed to make Mr. Butler.«
    »Obligations? - The Duke? - Obligations to Reuben Butler - Reuben Butler a
placed minister of the Kirk of Scotland?« exclaimed David, in interminable
astonishment, for somehow he had been led by the bad success which Butler had
hitherto met with in all his undertakings, to consider him as one of those
step-sons of Fortune, whom she treats with unceasing rigour, and ends with
disinheriting altogether.
    There is, perhaps, no time at
