release time:2023-11-29 06:11:44 source:clear white net author:{typename type="name"/}
"A cup of your tea, ma'am, if you will favour me." Mrs. Mac-Candlish bustled about, reinforced her teapot with hyson, and proceeded in her duties with her best grace. "We have a very nice parlour, sir, and everything very agreeable for gentlefolks; but it's bespoke the night for a gentleman and his daughter, that are going to leave this part of the country--ane of my chaises is gane for them, and will be back forthwith--they're no sae weel in the warld as they have been; but we're a' subject to ups and downs in this life, as your honour must needs ken--but is not the tobacco-reek disagreeable to your honour?"
"By no means, ma'am; I am an old campaigner, and perfectly used to it.--Will you permit me to make some inquiries about a family in this neighbourhood?"
The sound of wheels was now heard, and the landlady hurried to the door to receive her expected guests; but returned in an instant, followed by the postilion--
"No, they canna come at no rate, the Laird's sae ill."
"But God help them," said the landlady, "the morn's the term--the very last day they can bide in the house--a' thing's to be roupit." [*Sold by auction]
"Weel, but they can come at no rate, I tell ye--Mr. Bertram canna be moved."
"What Mr. Bertram?" said the stranger; "not Mr. Bertram of Ellangowan, I hope?"
"Just e'en that same, sir; and if ye be a friend o' his, ye have come at a time when he's sair bested."
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