It might have been a pleasant one to the rest, but for the caged lord's misery.

At last came Grizzie.
"Sir, an' my lord," she said, "come ye doon the stair.

The kail's het, an' the cheirs is set, an' yer denner's waitin' ye there." It may have been already observed, that to Grizzie came not unfrequently an odd way of riming what she said.

She was unaware of this peculiarity.

The suggestion of sound by sound was as hidden from her as it was deep-seated in her and strong.