The Waverley novels, by Sir Walter Scott, complete in 12 vol., printed from the latest English ed., embracing the author's last corrections, prefaces & notes.

360 WAVERLEY NOVELS.
" How do you, Janet?"
" Thank ye, good sir," answered my old friend, without looking at me;
"but ye might as weel say Mrs. MacEvoy, for she is na a'body's Shanetumph."
"You must be my Janet, though, for all that-have you forgot me?-Do
you not remember Chrystal Croftangry?"
The light, kind-hearted creature threw her napkin into the open door,
skipped down the stair like a fairy, three steps at once, seized me by the
hands,- both hands, -jumped up, and actually kissed me. I was a little
ashamed; but what swain, of somewhere inclining to sixty, could resist the
advances of a fair contemporary? So we allowed the full degree of kindness to the meeting,- honi soit qui mal y pense,- and then Janet entered
instantly upon business. "An' ye'll gae in, man, and see your auld lodg.
ings, nae doubt, and Shanet will pay ye the fifteen shillings of change that
ye ran away without, and without bidding Shanet good day. - But never
mind," (nodding good-humouredly,) " Shanet saw you were carried for the
time."
By this time we were in my old quarters, and Janet, with her bottle of
cordial in one hand and the glass in the other, had forced on me a dram of
usquebaugh, distilled with saffron and other herbs, after some old-fashioned
Highland receipt. Then was unfolded, out of many a little scrap of paper,
the reserved sum of fifteen shillings, which Janet had treasured for twenty
years and upwards.
"IIere they are," she said, in honest triumph, "just the same I was
holding out to ye when ye ran as if ye had been fey. Shanet has had siller,
and Shanet has wanted siller, mony a time since that- and the gauger has
come, and the factor has come, and the butcher and baker- Cot bless usjust like to tear poor auld Shanet to pieces; but she took good care of Mr.
Croftangry's fifteen shillings."
"But what if I had never come back, Janet?"
"Och, if Shanet had heard you were dead, she would hae gien it to the
poor of the chapel, to pray for Mr. Croftangry," said Janet, crossing herself, for she was a Catholic; - "you maybe do not think it would do you
cood, but the blessing of the poor can never do no harm."
I heartily agreed in Janet's conclusion; and, as to have desired her to
consider the hoard as her own property, would have been an indelicate return to her for the uprightness of her conduct, I requested her to dispose
of it as she had proposed to do in the event of my death, that is, if she
knew any poor people of merit to whom it might be useful.
" Ower mony of them," raising the corner of her checked apron to her
eyes, "e'en ower mony of them, Mr. Croftangry —Och, ay- there is the
puir Highland creatures frae Glenshee, that cam down for the harvest, and
are lying wi' the fever-five shillings to them, and half-a-crown to Bessie
MacEvoy, whose coodman, puir creature, died of the frost, being a shairman, for a' the whisky he could drink to keep it out o' his stamochand "
But she suddenly interrupted the bead-roll of her proposed charities, and
assuming a very sage look, and primming up her little chattering mouth,
she went on in a different tone -"But, och, Mr. Croftangry, bethink ye
whether ye will not need a' this siller yoursell, and maybe look back and
think lang for ha'en kiven it away, whilk is a creat sin to forthink a wark
o' charity, and also is unlucky, and, moreover, is not the thought of a shentleman's son like yoursell, dear. And I say this, that ye may think a bit;
for your mother's son kens that ye are no so careful as you should be of the
gear, and I hae tauld ye of it before, jewel."
I assured her I could easily spare the money, without risk of future repentance; and she went on to infer, that, in such a case, " Mr. Croftangry
had grown a rich man in foreign parts, and was free of his troubles with