possibly still aim at making conquests; for, to say truth, such a ridiculous suspicion having never entered into her own head, she could not anticipate its having birth in that of any one else. But she concealed her attentions solely out of delicacy to her guest, whose power of repaying them she doubted as much as she believed in his inclination to do so, and in his being likely to feel extreme pain at leaving any of her civilities unrequited. She now opened the door to Mr. Oldbuck, and her surprise at seeing him brought tears into her eyes, which she could hardly restrain. "I am glad to see you, sir--I am very glad to see you. My poor gentleman is, I am afraid, very unwell; and oh, Mr. Oldbuck, he'll see neither doctor, nor minister, nor writer! And think what it would be, if, as my poor Mr. Hadoway used to say, a man was to die without advice of the three learned faculties!" "Greatly better than with them," grumbled the cynical Antiquary. "I tell you, Mrs. Hadoway, the clergy live by our sins, the medical faculty by our diseases, and the law gentry by our misfortunes." "O fie, Monkbarns!--to hear the like o' that frae you!--But yell walk up and see the poor young lad?--Hegh sirs? sae young and weel-favoured--and day by day he has eat less and less, and now he hardly touches onything, only just pits a bit on the plate to make fashion--and his poor cheek has turned every day thinner and paler, sae that he now really looks as auld as me, that might be his mother--no that I might be just that neither, but something very near it." "Why does he not take some exercise?" said Oldbuck. "I think we have persuaded him to do that, for he has bought a horse from Gibbie Golightly, the galloping groom. A gude judge o' horse-flesh Gibbie tauld our lass that he was--for he offered him a beast he thought wad answer him weel eneugh, as he was a bookish man, but Mr. Lovel wadna look at it, and bought ane might serve the Master o' Morphie--they keep it at the Graeme's Arms, ower the street;--and he rode out yesterday morning and this morning before breakfast--But winna ye walk up to his room?" "Presently, presently. But has he no visitors?" "O dear, Mr. Oldbuck, not ane; if he wadna receive them when he was weel and sprightly, what chance is there of onybody in Fairport looking in upon him now?" "Ay, ay, very true,--I should have been surprised had it been otherwise --Come, show me up stairs, Mrs. Hadoway, lest I make a blunder, and go where I should not." The good landlady showed Mr. Oldbuck up her narrow staircase, warning him of every turn, and lamenting all the while that he was laid under the necessity of mounting up so high. At length she gently tapped at the door of her guest's parlour. "Come in," said Lovel; and Mrs. Hadoway ushered in the Laird of Monkbarns. The little apartment was neat and clean, and decently furnished --ornamented, too, by such relics of her youthful arts of sempstress --ship as Mrs. Hadoway had retained; but it was close, overheated, and, as it appeared to Oldbuck, an unwholesome situation for a young person in delicate health,--an observation which ripened his resolution touching a project that had already occurred to him in Lovel's behalf. With a writing-table before him, on which lay a quantity of books and papers, Lovel was seated on a couch, in his night-gown and slippers. Oldbuck was shocked at the change which had taken place in his personal appearance. His cheek and brow had assumed a ghastly white, except where a round bright spot of hectic red formed a strong and painful contrast, totally different from the general cast of hale and hardy complexion which had formerly overspread and somewhat embrowned his countenance. Oldbuck observed, that the dress he wore belonged to a deep mourning suit, and a coat of the same colour hung on a chair near to him. As the Antiquary entered, Lovel arose and came forward to welcome him. "This is very kind," he said, shaking him by the hand, and thanking him warmly for his visit--"this is very kind, and has anticipated a visit with which I intended to trouble you. You must know I have become a horseman lately." "I understand as much from Mrs. Hadoway--I only hope, my good young friend, you have been fortunate in a quiet horse. I myself inadvertently bought one from the said Gibbie Golightly, which brute ran two miles on end with me after a pack of hounds, with which I had no more to do than the last year's snow; and after affording infinite amusement, I suppose, to the whole hunting field, he was so good as to deposit me in a dry ditch--I hope yours is a more peaceful beast?" "I hope, at least, we shall make our excursions on a better plan of mutual understanding." "That is to say, you think yourself a good horseman?" "I would not willingly," answered Lovel, "confess myself a very bad one." "No--all you young fellows think that would be equal to calling yourselves tailors at once--But have you had experience? for, _crede experto,_ a horse in a passion is no joker." "Why, I should be sorry to boast myself as a great horseman; but when I acted as aide-de-camp to Sir----in the cavalry action at--, last year, I saw many better cavaliers than myself dismounted." "Ah! you have looked in the face of the grisly god of arms then?--you are. . . . . . .