EMERGING, on the second morning, from the gorge of the last pass of the Grampian chain, I perceived, in the valley before me, a small village, with a church spire in the midst of it, surrounded on every side by noble groves, bespeaking the near vicinity of some distinguished residence.

Not having been in this part of the kingdom on any former occasion, I had but a very obscure notion of its geography; and was certainly not less pleased than surprised, when I found, on reaching the public-house, where (having come fifteen miles already) I had intended to breakfast, that the place was St Dee’s. You may perhaps remember my having mentioned that name some time ago;—the very parish where my old patroness of St Andrew's had taken up her abode when she had the honour to become Mrs Mackay. I made my inquiries forthwith; and, having ascertained that the family were at home, sent a message to say, that I would call as soon as I had breakfasted.

The honest Minister, however, was at my elbow in five minutes’ space; and, finding that my friend would think herself ill used if I broke bread at St Dee's elsewhere than under her roof, I, of course, transferred myself immediately to the Manse, where, I need not say, I was received in the most cordial manner.

My old flame had thriven apparently upon matrimony, for she was now a very portly dame; and yet four or five blooming and blushing children, with heads like butter-cups, attested sufficiently, that she had not been eating the bread of idleness. In short, I found a comfortable and happy family, established in a small and snug dwelling; and nothing could surpass, in their several species of excellence, the tea, the barley scones, the eggs, the mutton ham, the kippered salmon, and the Athole brose of Biddy. The good people seemed to have been well aware of the fortunate change which had recently taken place in my worldly circumstances; but, I am sure, if I had come in rags to their door, I had been welcomed every bit as warmly.