of the second edition of Brookes's Gazetteer there is the following account of the town of 66 : is a considerable town, situated on the river ——, containing four thousand inhabitants, who are chiefly employed in the manufacture of cotton and woollen nightcaps. It has two churches, a prison, bridewell, and town-hall; the streets are wide and spacious; it is governed by a provost and four bailies; and its police consists of three watchmen and a town-crier." Having thus unquestionable authority for the spaciousness of the streets, we shall not dilate on the splendours of the houses composing them; we shall merely invite attention to the large white-washed mansion in the High Street, a little withdrawn within handsome iron railings-constituting "number twelve," and being undoubt edly the principal house in the town. The long low roof projecting over the prodigious expanse of white wall, pierced with innumerable small windows, is, we are informed, not in strict accordance with the rules of Grecian architecture; nor is it in much danger of being mistaken for the Gothic, but if we may be allowed to suggest the style to which it belongs, we should say it was "the comfortable." Lots of accommodation, with an air of snug retirement, were the characteristics of the mansion, and it was evident to a very superficial observer of such matters that it possessed a mighty advantage in its proximity, or, in fact, in its identity with the stout stone building at one side of it, which projected to the level of the street, and bore above its door the cabalistic words we have alluded to in the introduction, "BANK. Open from 10 till 3." An enquiring observer, on looking beyond the outside portal of this wing of the building, might have seen written, in large white letters, on an inner door," Pearie, Peat, and Patieson." And if he had had as much wisdom as we give him credit for, he might have felt pretty sure that those were the names of the three partners. And his supposition would have been correct. That was the banking establishment of Messrs Pearie, Peat, & Patieson, the richest and best known bankers in the whole district of Scotland. The bank, in the course of the forty years of its existence, had gone through many changes of name,-at first, it had been Patieson, Peat, and Pearie; then, on the death of the founder, the middle partner had taken precedence, while the nephew of the defunct bad gone to the bottom of the list. On the demise of Mr Peat, the next partner succeeded to the honours, and at the time of the commencement of this narrative, the respective stations of the firm of Pearie, Peat, & Patieson were filled in the following manner. The main part of the large house, No. 12, was occupied by Mr Pearie, now a gentleman of mature years, with a plump expression of body and feature, which told as plainly as words could have done, that he had all his life long been a prosperous gentleman. The sound of his voice, also, the short gruff method of expressing his opinion, something between a cough and a grunt, bore evidence to the same happy condition of his circumstances. Trade had indeed flourished his consequence and dignity expanded in exact proportion with his bodily configuration-and an eye with any speculation in it, could see at a glance that one hundred thousand pounds at least were written in the swell of his waistcoat. Scrupulously brushed were his habiliments, snow-white were his stockings, and brightly polished his shoes, which latter articles of wearing apparel were ornamented with certain bright buckles, which rumour gave out as being heir-looms dedicated to the adornment of the head partner, and, indeed, by many people believed to be the palladium or tutelary influences of the bank itself. Scandalous people, who paid too little respect to dignities, have been known to wonder that Mr Pearie should indulge in such ostentatious vanities, especially as any smatterer in geometry, or, more properly speaking, in sarkometry, could not fail to perceive that the aforesaid swell of the waistcoat bad for many years deprived him of the pleasure of seeing the ornaments on his instep, unless with the assistance of a mirror. It was equally evident that he still rejoiced in single blessedness, though in what particulars of shape or manner bachelorship becomes visible in a moment we are not qualified to decide; we merely state the fact in this particular instance; but no,-on second thoughts, we extend the remark to mankind at large, viz. that the fact of matrimony or bachelorship is written so legibly in men's appearance, that no ingenuity can conceal it. On the tops of coaches, in the coffee-rooms of inns, nay, in pews at church, there is some inexplicable instinct that tells us whether an individual (name, fortune, circumstances totally unknown) be or be not a married man. Whether it is a certain subdued look, such as that which characterises the lions in a menagerie, and distinguishes them from the lords of the desert, we cannot tell; but that the truth is so we positively affirm; so, leaving these matters for a more searching enquiry at some future time, we return to the conditions of Mr Pearie. With regard to his relations to the other partners of the establishment we have some difficulty in making them quite intelligible to a stranger, for during the partnership there had been so many intermarriages, that it required a considerable turn for genealogy to make out exactly what degree of relationship existed between them. When Mr Peat (who had married a sister of Mr Pearie, and whose father had been the husband of Mr Patieson's aunt) left his share of the business, in addition to his savings, to his only daughter, he committed the management of the young lady, her farms, and fortune, to the joint management of his two partners, who being both relations, both guardians, and both also partners of their young charge, fell into the very natural mistake of considering her as one of the hereditaments, whose beauty, youth, accomplishments, and floating capital were all to be laid out to the best advantage. Mr Patieson, however, had shortly afterwards died, and left his son sole heir of all his possessions, his place in the bank, the guardianship of his ward, and, incongruously enough, himself at the same time in the guardianship of Mr Pearie; an imperium in imperio, which might have had very dangerous consequences, had not the executive, in the hands of the senior partner, been at once very strict, and not very oppressive. Mary Peat, aged a little more than nineteen, "kept," as the phrase is, her guardian's house-her suite of rooms are those on the left hand of the entrance-door, where you see the rich gauze curtains, and the beautiful geraniums, and catch a glimpse, a little way back, of the top of a splendid harp; and proceeding from which you might occasionally hear delicious music, accompanied by as sweet a voice as it is safe to listen to, unless you have got pretty near your grand climacteric. She was what judges call "great" on the harp, and brought such sounds from her piano, and carolled Scotch ballads so simply, and looked so sweetly, that no one who listened to her music, or looked at her beautiful blue eyes, could doubt her powers of "execution." Mr Pearie himself was divided between his fondness for his own notes and hers-he used to sit in his armchair whole evenings listening to her performance, pretending to be asleep; for he would have considered it derogatory to his dignity, as "heed o' the hoose," to be pleased with Auld Robin Gray, or the Flowers o' the Forest. Charles Patieson, however, who had no such exalted considerations to restrain him, not only felt, but openly expressed the greatest delight in listening to his ward, or cousin, or partner, whichever you choose to call her though there can be no doubt in which of these characters the young man would have preferred considering her himself. Yet there were ob-. stacles, - insurmountable obstacles, which resulted partly from the determined discountenancing of any thing of the sort by Mr Pearie,-partly from the unconquerable modesty of the young man-and principally from the apparent indifference, if, indeed, it was not altogether dislike, of the young lady. So poor Charles contented himself with loving her with all his heart and all his soul in secret-hearing her sing and speak every evening that he possibly could; and dreaming of her all night-a mode of proceeding which all who have tried it unite in pronouncing very unsatisfactory. A house, at the other side of the town, prettily situated on the bank of the river, reminded him continually, by its spacious size, so disproportioned to the necessities of a bachelor-of that very pleasing text which says man was not meant to live alone. What to him were the shrubbery walks-the long suites of rooms, the green-houses and conservatories?- Poor fellow! not all the grammarians, since the days of Priscian downwards, could have convinced him of the congruity of the substantive "blessedness," with the adjective" single."-" Delitiæ," in the Latin, he recollected, was always in the plural number,—and he considered the Romans a very sensible people. What a pity, that in those days, the march of mind was not sufficiently advanced to make it imperative on the ladies (and especially on Mary Peat) to understand Latin! In these, and similar vain regrets, time wore on. Mary smiled and sang as charmingly as ever, and Mr Peter Pearie the heed o' the hoose-grew in fat and dignity with each revolving moon. One September, while affairs continued in this state, the house on the opposite side of the street from Mr Pearie's gave symptoms of some wonderful change. Its windows were new glazed, and pretty silk curtains hung round them; the door was new painted; paperers and other decorators at full work; and a long row of handsome stabling roofed in and finished in the lane at the other end of the premises. Furniture shortly after arrived; grooms and horses followed in due course; and large volumes of smoke were seen rising from morn till night from the numberless chimneys. Still there was no appearance of any inhabitaut above the rank of a housekeeper-and it was only when the hunting season had fairly commenced, that a view was occasionally caught of a young man, dressed in a red coat, who galloped off from the door on an active hackney in the morning, or walked his jaded hunter slowly up the lane in the afternoon. Unless on these occasions nothing was seen of their new neighbours. And conjecture, after exhausting itself to discover who the mysterious stranger could be, fell fast asleep, and took no notice of him, either as he scoured along to covert, or glided noiselessly home to the stable. That he was handsome nobody could deny, who saw beauty in whiskers and moustaches of preter-human size;-a back of prodigious length, very thin legs, an upright seat on horseback, and a countenance of an impassive gravity worthy of a monk of La Trappe, suggested no slight reminiscences of Don Quixote-but the parallel was by no means sustainable in the article of horse-flesh, for it would have been difficult to believe that Rosinante belonged to the same species with the "souls made of fire, and children of the sun," who pawed the ground impatiently, and showed their pure Arab blood in every toss of their fordly manes, as they waited for their master, and neighed proudly as he made his appearance. In the first place, Charles was well aware of Mary's insane admiration of that noble animal the horse; in the next place, not even the vanity of a proprietor could blind him to the fact, that his little grey Galloway could bear no sort of comparison with the poorest hackney in the new-comer's stud; in the third place, he felt sure that admiration, once excited, is very expansive in its character, and he therefore concluded that it was highly probable that the manifest liking which Mary had taken to the longtailed barbs would imperceptibly widen and widen (like rings in water), till at last it included the long-whiskered owner of them in its circumference. And what was he to do to avert this calamity ?-Buy a horse of surpassing beauty, and conquer the rival at his own weapons? Alas! John Laing sent him from Edinburgh a descendant of the Godolphin Arabian, which had every excellence that a horse could possess, except the trifling one of allowing a saddle to be put on his back and to complete his discomfiture, the high-born intruder left tokens of his remembrance among all who had the pleasure of his acquaintance during his week's sojourn at the Dene (so was Charles's villa called); for before John Laing's man had been recalled from the capital to lead the new purchase home again, it had broken two of Andrew Nevins' ribs, and lamed the grey Galloway, by a kick on the hind leg. Deprived of the services of Andrew Nevin, who had been groom to one or other of the partners beyond the memory of man, and also of those of the grey Galloway, Charles exhausted himself in imagining other means of gaining his object; and, like all other people excelling in the imaginative, he went on building castles in the air,-wishing, hoping, fearing, and-doing nothing. "I maun gang ower and ca' on this new occupier," said Peter Pearie one day to his ward; "it's no right to let the lad live sae much by himsel'. Our bank was aye hospitable to a' comers, and I feel it my duty, as heed o' the hoose, to ask him to his kail." "O, I'm so delighted to hear you say so," said Mary, "I have been wishing it for such a time,-'twill be delightful!" Mr Peter Pearie looked at the animated countenance of his ward-and a strange cloud passed over his brow. "The lassie's in a creel," he replied. "Is't such a grand thing to mak' an outery about, that a man placed in my situation should gi'e a bit denner to an English fox-hunter that's come down a' the way to hunt wi' the Duke -what'll be delightful aboot it? eh?" "Oh, he'll tell me all about his horses; that beautiful black creature with the glossy mane-a Tartar of the Ukraine breed." "Na, na," said Mr Pearie, who had not studied Mazeppa so deeply as Cocker, it seems a douce quiet bit beast, an' very clean in the skin. Chair lie Patieson's the lad for a Tartar. Yon was a real ane that cam' frae Embro'-but in my een it's a temptin' o' Providence to hae ony thing but a blind powney that's a wee short o' the wind-for when they're blind they canna see ony thing to shy at, and if they're a wee asthmatic they canna rin very far, and that's the reason I'll hae nae ither horse but Dapple-nor you either, Mary; so say nae mair, say nae mair." "But do you know any thing of this gentleman, his name, or whether he would like to be called upon ?" enquired the young lady. "His name's no of sae much consequence when I ask him to his denner as if I was asking him to pit it on the back of a bill-and as to likin' to be called on, ye'll remember, Miss, that it's me that's going to do't-me, the representative o' the firm, and indeed heed o' the" "Oh yes, I know all that," interrupted the young lady; " I only wish you could ask his horses along with him-such noble steeds. 'At the Baron De Mowbray's gate was seen, He sang this merry lay- "Does he so ?" murmured Mr Pearie, as he gazed at the door through which his volatile ward had disappeared, while her voice was still audible, going on with the ballad-" then by my certie the sooner he rides away the better-I wonder if this is some lover o' the lassie-if it is, and they've kept me in the dark, they'll find to their cost what it is to offend the heed o' the hoose. The gipsy! I maun tell Charles o' my suspicions, but in the mean time I'll hae the chap to his denner." While this great resolve was agitating the bosom of Mr Pearie, and while the harp was thrilling beneath the touch of Mary Peat, who still sang the ballad of the Fair Young Knight, Charles Patieson glided into the room, looking so pale and miserable, that the fair performer suddenly broke off in the middle of a stanza, and asked if he had seen a ghost? "I think I have, Mary," he replied, trying to smile. "What was it like ?-what was it of?-a bleeding nun-a murdered man oh, what was it? do tell." "The Past, the buried Past! it haunts me still." 66 "Poor fellow," said Mary, turning over her music in search of another song, you must be terribly ill since you have taken to quoting poetry. How are stocks to-day, Charles; are the funds looking up?" "Three and a half," mechanically answered the lover, "are same as yester-; but pshaw! hang the funds. Has Mr Pearie told you his intention about this hunting stranger?" "Oh yes, he is to be asked to dinner -we shall get great friends, I hopepleasant acquisition in this dull place, won't it ?" "Oh very," replied Charles, in a tone of voice that did not quite accord with the sentiment. "He is an officer." "Dear me! how charming!" interrupted Mary; " and his name, dear Charles, have you found out his name?" "Slasher. He is home on his three years leave from India." "Oh what a nice neighbour he will be; what delightful stories he'll tell us of Ormus, and of Ind, Delhi, Bus. sorah, Damascus! The very names are enchanting as fairy tales; what day is he to be asked on ?" "On Thursday," said Charles; "I am surprised Mr Pearie runs such a risk." "Risk, Charles! he isn't going to ride hunting with him, is he?" "Perhaps he is," replied the young man, shaking his head mysteriously, "and may find that he is thrown out." "Thrown off, you mean, if you mean any thing," said Mary; "but what risk do you mean?" "A rival," replied Charles, boldly, "a rival, Mary, in his own designs, though I conclude he feels pretty sure of what he is doing before he has taken such a step." "His designs? You amaze me, Charles. What designs? What rival ?" "Oh! I can't pretend to offer you information on points you must be so much better acquainted with yourself. However, it would have been as well to have consulted me before going quite so far. You will remember that, as my father's representative, I also am one of your guardians." "Hoity toity," exclaimed the young lady, "what is the meaning of all this? You first begin looking dismal, talking of seeing a ghost, quoting poetry, and now tormenting my head with riddles. Speak out, man, and don't ride the high horse any longer. The tall steed you had from Edinburgh should have taught you better behaviour. What have you got to say?" "Simply this; that Mr Pearie intends to marry you; he makes no secret of it; he told our new headclerk, Mr Dawson, who told it again to me; so there can be no mistake." A variety of colours passed over the beautiful brow and cheeks of Mary Peat, among which a bright scarlet soon gained the mastery, for her countenance was somewhat like a stormy sunset as she answered, "Who has dared to say this? Has Peter Pearie, banker and bachelor, heed o' the hoose, and fifty-seven years of age? 'Pon my word, Charles, Charles, didn't you knock Mr Dawson down ?" "I had a great inclination to do it; but determined to ascertain the truth of the report from your own lips." "But what would be the use of my saying any thing?" continued Mary, in a different mood, with difficulty controlling a desire to laugh outright; you know, Charles, you are one of my guardians, and may refuse your consent. You wouldn't agree to it? Would you?" 66 "I would die sooner-ah! Mary, if it rested with me". "By the by, Charles, have you heard this new ballad? Such a pretty thing, though the words are contemptible;" and striking the harp-strings, she trilled one of the commonplace chansons of the day so sweetly, that Charles thought it would be a sin to interrupt her; and by the time the song was finished, the head of Mr Peter Pearie was poked in at the door for a moment, and uttered the following words, "I've ca'd on the chield over the way-he's coming at five o'clock on Thursday; so let us hae a good denner on that day, Mary, befitting our station in the town, and my position as heed o' the hoose. Pearie, Peat, and Patieson were aye famed for their five-year auld cheviots, and we've aye dealt wi' Bell and Rennie; so we needna turn our backs on the King." After this discourse the head was withdrawn, but we grieve to say that, from our knowledge of Charles Patieson's character, we are afraid he never summoned courage to renew the conversation, and allowed Mary to sing song after song till it was time for him to return to the Dene, and spend his solitary evening in envying the senior partner his happiness in living in the same house, albeit he was somewhat comforted by the way in which the young lady had received his information respecting that gentleman's matrimonial designs. CHAPTER II. A week, a month, a quarter of a year elapsed, and matters were not ostensibly much changed. Captain Slasher, indeed, was a frequent visitor, but, to ordinary eyes, his delicate attentions seemed exclusively devoted to Mr Pearie's claret; his reminiscences of Oriental beauty were too lively to permit his attaching much value to the lilies and roses of Mary Peat; and, with a persevering gallantry worthy of a scientific old soldier, he persisted in |