The charms of Maudge had, even in her vernal years, been confined to her warm and affectionate feelings; and, at this period, she was twisted east and west, and hither and yont, and Time, in the shape of old age, hung so embracingly round her neck, that his weight had bent her into a hoop. Yet, thus deformed and aged, she was not without qualities that might have endeared her to a more generous boy. Her father had been schoolmaster in the village of Kittleston; and under his tuition, before she was sent, as the phrase then was, to seek her bread in the world, she had acquired a few of the elements of learning beyond those which, in that period, fell to the common lot of female domestics; and she was thus enabled, not only to teach the orphan reading and writing, but even to supply him with some knowledge of arithmetic, particularly addition and the multiplication table. She also possessed a rich stock of goblin lore and romantic stories, the recital of which had given the father of Claud the taste for adventure that induced him to embark in the ill-fated expedition. These, however, were not so congenial to the less sanguine temperament of the son, who early preferred the history of Whittington and his Cat to the achievements of Sir William Wallace; and "Tak your auld cloak about you," ever seemed to him a thousand times more sensible than Chevy Chase. As for that doleful ditty, the Flowers of the Forest, it was worse than the Babes in the Wood; and Gil Morrice more wearisome than Death and the Lady.

The solitary old laird had not been long settled in his sequestered and humble town-retreat, when a change became visible both in his appearance and manners. He had been formerly bustling, vigorous, hearty, and social; but from the first account of the death of his son, and the ruin of his fortune, he grew thoughtful and sedentary, and shunned the approach of strangers, and retired from the visits of his friends. Sometimes he sat for whole days without speaking, and without even noticing the kitten-like gambols of his grandson; at others he would fondle over the child, and caress him with more than a grandfather's affection; again, he would peevishly brush the boy away as he clasped his knees, and hurry out of the house with short and

agitated steps. His respectable portliness disappeared; his clothes began to hang loosely upon him; his colour fled; his face withered; and his legs wasted into meagre shanks. Before the end of the first twelve months, he was either unwilling or unable to move unassisted from the old arm-chair, in which he sat from morning to night, with his grey head drooping over his breast; and one evening, when Maudge went to assist him to undress, she found he had been for some time dead.

After the funeral, Maudge removed with the penniless orphan to a garret-room in the Saltmarket, where she endeavoured to earn for him and herself the humble aliment of meal and salt, by working stockings; her infirmities and figure having disqualified her from the more profitable industry of the spinningwheel. In this condition she remained for some time, pinched with poverty, but still patient with her lot, and preserving, nevertheless, a neat and decent exterior.

It was only in the calm of the summer Sabbath evenings that she indulged in the luxury of a view of the country; and her usual walk on those occasions, with Claud in her hand, was along the brow of Whitehill, which she perhaps preferred, because it afforded her a distant view of the scenes of her happier days; and while she pointed out to Claud the hills and lands of his forefathers, she exhorted him to make it his constant endeavour to redeem them, if possible, from their new possessors, regularly concluding her admonition with some sketch or portrait of the hereditary grandeur of his ancestors.

One afternoon, while she was thus engaged, Provost Gorbals and his wife made their appearance.

The provost was a man in flourishing circumstances, and he was then walking with his lady to choose a site for a countryhouse which they had long talked of building. They were a stately corpulent couple, well befitting the magisterial consequence of the husband.

Mrs Gorbals was arrayed in a stiff and costly yellow brocade, magnificently embroidered with flowers, the least of which was peony; but the exuberance of her ruffle cuffs and flounces, the richness of her lace apron, with the vast head-dress of catgut and millinery, together with her blue satin mantle, trimmed

with ermine, are items in the gorgeous paraphernalia of the Glasgow ladies of that time, to which the pencil of some abler limner can alone do justice.

The appearance of the provost himself became his dignity, and corresponded with the affluent garniture of his lady: it was indeed such, that, even had he not worn the golden chains of his dignity, there would have been no difficulty in determining him to be some personage dressed with at least a little brief authority. Over the magisterial vestments of black velvet, he wore a new scarlet cloak, although the day had been one of the sultriest in July; and, with a lofty consequential air, and an ample display of the corporeal acquisition which he had made at his own and other well-furnished tables, he moved along, swinging at every step his tall golden-headed cane with the solemnity of a mandarin.

Claud was filled with wonder and awe at the sight of such splendid examples of Glasgow pomp and prosperity, but Maudge speedily rebuked his juvenile admiration.

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"had ye

They're no worth the looking at," said she; but seen the last Leddy Kittlestonheugh, your ain muckle respeckit grandmother, and her twa sisters, in their hench-hoops, with their fans in their han's-the three in a row would hae soopit the whole breadth o' the Trongate-ye would hae seen something. They were nane o' your new-made leddies, but come o' a pedigree. Foul would hae been the gait, and drooking the shower, that would hae gart them jook their heads intil the door o' ony sic thing as a Glasgow bailie-Na; Claudie, my lamb, thou maun lift thy een aboon the trash o' the town, and aye keep mind that the hills are standing yet that might hae been thy ain; and so may they yet be, an thou can but master the pride o' back and belly, and seek for something mair solid than the bravery o' sic a Solomon in all his glory as yon Provost Gorbals. Hech, sirs, what a kyteful o' pride's yon'er! and yet I would be nane surprised the morn to hear that the Nechabudnezzar was a' gane to pigs and whistles, and driven out wi' the divors bill to the barren pastures of bankruptcy."

CHAPTER II.

AFTER taking a stroll round the brow of the hill, Provost Gorbals and his lady approached the spot where Maudge and Claud were sitting. As they drew near, the old woman rose, for she recognized in Mrs Gorbals one of the former visiters at Kittlestonheugh. The figure of Maudge herself was so remarkable, that, seen once, it was seldom forgotten, and the worthy lady, almost at the same instant, said to the provost

"Eh! Megsty, gudeman, if I dinna think yon's auld Kittlestonheugh's crookit bairnswoman. I won'er what's come o' the laird, poor bodie, sin' he was rookit by the Darien. Eh! what an alteration it was to Mrs Walkinshaw, his gudedochter. She was a bonny bodie; but frae the time o' the sore news, she croynt awa, and her life gaed out like the snuff o' a can'le. Hey, Magdalene Dobbie, come hither to me, I'm wanting to speak to thee!"

Maudge, at this shrill obstreperous summons, leading Claud by the hand, went forward to the lady, who immediately said,"Ist t'ou aye in Kittlestonheugh's service, and what's come o' him sin' his lan' was roupit?"

Maudge replied respectfully, and with the tear in her eye, that the laird was dead.

"Dead!" exclaimed Mrs Gorbals, "that's very extraordinare. I doubt he was ill off at his latter end. Whar did he die, poor man ?"

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"We were obligated," said Maudge, somewhat comforted by the compassionate accent of the lady, “ to come intil Glasgow, where he fell into a decay o' nature." And she added, with a sigh that was almost a sob, "'Deed it's vera true, he died in a sare straitened circumstance, and left this helpless laddie upon my hands."

The provost, who had in the mean time been still looking about in quest of a site for his intended mansion, on hearing this, turned round, and putting his hand in his pocket, said,—

"An' is this Kittlestonheugh's oe? I'm sure it's a vera pitiful

thing o' you, lucky, to tak compassion on the orphan; hae, my laddie, there's a saxpence."

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Saxpence, gudeman!" exclaimed the provost's lady, "ye'll ne'er even your han' wi' a saxpence to the like of Kittlestonheugh, for sae we're bound in nature to call him, landless though his lairdship now be; poor bairn, I'm wae for't! Ye ken his mother was sib to mine by the father's side, and blood's thicker than water ony day."

Generosity is in some degree one of the necessary qualifications of a Glasgow magistrate, and Provost Gorbals being as well endowed with it as any of his successors have been since, was not displeased with the benevolent warmth of his wife, especially when he understood that Claud was of their own kin. On the contrary, he said affectionately,—

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Really it was vera thoughtless o' me, Liezy, my dear; but ye ken I havena an instinct to make me acquaint wi' the particulars of folk, before hearing about them. I'm sure no living soul can have a greater compassion than mysel' for gentle blood come to needcessity."

Mrs Gorbals, however, instead of replying to this remarkindeed, what could she say, for experience had taught her that it was perfectly just-addressed herself again to Maudge.

"And whar dost t'ou live? and what hast t'ou to live upon ?' "I hae but the mercy of Providence," was the humble answer of honest Maudge," and a garret-room in John Sinclair's lan'. I ettle as weel as I can for a morsel, by working stockings; but Claud's a rumbling laddie, and needs mair than I hae to gie him: a young appetite's a growing evil in the poor's aught.”·

The provost and his wife looked kindly at each other, and the latter added,

"Gudeman, ye maun do something for them. It'll no fare the waur wi' our basket and our store."

And Maudge was in consequence requested to bring Claud with her that evening to the provost's house in the Bridgegate. "I think," added Mrs Gorbals, "that our Hughoc's auld claes will just do for him; and Maudge, keep a good heart, we'll no let thee want. I won'er t'ou didna think of making an application to us afore."