I could not get a sight of Elspeth.
Doctor Blair preached us a fine sermon from the text, "_My people shall dwell in a pleasant habitation, and in sure dwellings, and in quiet resting-places!"_ But his hearers were much disturbed by the continual chatter of the fools about the choir rail.

Before he had got to the Prayer of Chrysostom the exquisites were whispering like pigeons in a dovecot, exchanging snuff-boxes, and ogling the women.

So intolerable it grew that the Doctor paused in his discourse and sternly rebuked them, speaking of the laughter of fools which is as the crackling of thorns under a pot.

This silenced them for a little, but the noise broke out during the last prayer, and with the final word of the Benediction my gentlemen thrust their way through the congregation, that they might be the first at the church door.

I have never seen so unseemly a sight, and for a moment I thought that Governor Nicholson would call the halberdiers and set them in the pillory.