"Eh! it's joost addin' ten years to the age o' the wine.

The turtle-doves will be nane the waur--and I mysel' am a glass o' sherry the better.

Praise Providence for a' its maircies!" Having relieved himself of that devout aspiration, he took up the tray again, and decided on letting the turtle-doves have their dinner.
The conversation in the parlor (dropped for the moment) had been renewed, in the absence of Mr.Bishopriggs.Too restless to remain long in one place, Anne had risen again from the sofa, and had rejoined Arnold at the window.
"Where do your friends at Lady Lundie's believe you to be now ?" she asked, abruptly.
"I am believed," replied Arnold, "to be meeting my tenants, and taking possession of my estate." "How are you to get to your estate to-night ?" "By railway, I suppose.

By-the-by, what excuse am I to make for going away after dinner?
We are sure to have the landlady in here before long.
What will she say to my going off by myself to the train, and leaving 'my wife' behind me ?" "Mr.Brinkworth! that joke--if it _is_ a joke--is worn out!" "I beg your pardon," said Arnold.
"You may leave your excuse to me," pursued Anne.

"Do you go by the up train, or the down ?" "By the up train." The door opened suddenly; and Mr.Bishopriggs appeared with the dinner.
Anne nervously separated herself from Arnold.