"Take the old man into the kitchen, and let him get some refreshment," said the young lady, whose compassionate eye had remarked his thin grey hair and wearied gait. "Mr. Oldbuck, my love, invites us to dinner on Tuesday the 17th," said the Baronet, pausing;--"he really seems to forget that he has not of late conducted himself so civilly towards me as might have been expected." "Dear sir, you have so many advantages over poor Mr. Oldbuck, that no wonder it should put him a little out of humour; but I know he has much respect for your person and your conversation;--nothing would give him more pain than to be wanting in any real attention." "True, true, Isabella; and one must allow for the original descent; --something of the German boorishness still flows in the blood; something of the whiggish and perverse opposition to established rank and privilege. You may observe that he never has any advantage of me in dispute, unless when he avails himself of a sort of pettifogging intimacy with dates, names, and trifling matters of fact--a tiresome and frivolous accuracy of memory, which is entirely owing to his mechanical descent." "He must find it convenient in historical investigation, I should think, sir?" said the young lady. "It leads to an uncivil and positive mode of disputing; and nothing seems more unreasonable than to hear him impugn even Bellenden's rare translation of Hector Boece, which I have the satisfaction to possess, and which is a black-letter folio of great value, upon the authority of some old scrap of parchment which he has saved from its deserved destiny of being cut up into tailor's measures. And besides, that habit of minute and troublesome accuracy leads to a mercantile manner of doing business, which ought to be beneath a landed proprietor whose family has stood two or three generations. I question if there's a dealer's clerk in Fairport that can sum an account of interest better than Monkbarns." "But you'll accept his invitation, sir?" "Why, ye--yes; we have no other engagement on hand, I think. Who can the young man be he talks of?--he seldom picks up new acquaintance; and he has no relation that I ever heard of." "Probably some relation of his brother-in-law Captain M'Intyre." "Very possibly--yes, we will accept--the M'Intyres are of a very ancient Highland family. You may answer his card in the affirmative, Isabella; I believe I have, no leisure to be _Dear Sirring_ myself." So this important matter being adjusted, Miss Wardour intimated "her own and Sir Arthur's compliments, and that they would have the honour of waiting upon Mr. Oldbuck. Miss Wardour takes this opportunity to renew her hostility with Mr. Oldbuck, on account of his late long absence from Knockwinnock, where his visits give so much pleasure." With this _placebo_ she concluded her note, with which old Caxon, now refreshed in limbs and wind, set out on his return to the Antiquary's mansion. CHAPTER SIXTH. _Moth._ By Woden, God of Saxons, From whence comes Wensday, that is, Wednesday, Truth is a thing that I will ever keep Unto thylke day in which I creep into My sepulcre-- Cartwright's _Ordinary._ Our young friend Lovel, who had received a corresponding invitation, punctual to the hour of appointment, arrived at Monkbarns about five minutes before four o'clock on the 17th of July. The day had been remarkably sultry, and large drops of rain had occasionally fallen, though the threatened showers had as yet passed away. Mr. Oldbuck received him at the Palmer's-port in his complete brown suit, grey silk stockings, and wig powdered with all the skill of the veteran Caxon, who having smelt out the dinner, had taken care not to finish his job till the hour of eating approached. "You are welcome to my symposion, Mr. Lovel. And now let me introduce you to my Clogdogdo's, as Tom Otter calls them--my unlucky and good-for-nothing womankind--_malae bestiae,_ Mr. Lovel." "I shall be disappointed, sir, if I do not find the ladies very undeserving of your satire." "Tilley-valley, Mr. Lovel,--which, by the way, one commentator derives from _tittivillitium,_ and another from _talley-ho_--but tilley-valley, I say--a truce with your politeness. You will find them but samples of womankind--But here they be, Mr. Lovel. I present to you in due order, my most discreet sister Griselda, who disdains the simplicity, as well as patience annexed to the poor old name of Grizzel; and my most exquisite niece Maria, whose mother was called Mary, and sometimes Molly." The elderly lady rustled in silks and satins, and bore upon her head a structure resembling the fashion in the ladies' memorandum-book for the year 1770--a superb piece of architecture, not much less than a modern Gothic castle, of which the curls might represent the turrets, the black pins the _chevaux de frise,_ and the lappets the banners.. . . . . . .