And before the morning was over, Rose Cameron was remanded to her cell in the police station-house to wait until she could be taken back to Scotland for trial.
When she reached her cell, she gave herself up to a passion of hysterical weeping and sobbing.
She was interrupted by a visit from her friendly housekeeper.
"My poor, dear, injured lady, I was here early this morning to see you, but could not get in," said the woman, after the first exciting greetings were over.
"Sit ye down.

Dinna staund, and tire yersel'," said the poor creature, glad to see any familiar face.
"Oh, my good young lady, you were always very kind to me.

And I never can believe as you've had anything to do with what you are accused of," said the good woman, weeping.
"And sae I hadna.

I dinna ken onything anent it.

As for yon braw boxie, I ne'er set een on it, na, nor the fine ring, till the policeman pu'ed it doon frae the tap o' the window curtain.