having then no existence in that quarter.

Though Baillie Orde had acquiesced in his wife's asseveration
regarding the likeness of their only daughter to her father, he
never loved or admired her greatly; therefore this behaviour
nothing astounded him. He questioned her strictly as to the
grievous offence committed against her, and could discover
nothing that warranted a procedure so fraught with disagreeable
consequences. So, after mature deliberation, the baillie addressed
her as follows:

"Aye, aye, Raby! An' sae I find that Dalcastle has actually refused
to say prayers with you when you ordered him; an' has guidit you
in a rude indelicate manner, outstepping the respect due to my
daughter--as my daughter. But, wi' regard to what is due to his
own wife, of that he's a better judge nor me. However, since he
has behaved in that manner to MY DAUGHTER, I shall be
revenged on him for aince; for I shall return the obligation to ane
nearer to him: that is, I shall take pennyworths of his wife--an' let
him lick at that."

"What do you mean, Sir?" said the astonished damsel.

"I mean to be revenged on that villain Dalcastle," said he, "for
what he has done to my daughter. Come hither, Mrs. Colwan, you
shall pay for this."

So saying, the baillie began to inflict corporal punishment on the
runaway wife. His strokes were not indeed very deadly, but he
made a mighty flourish in the infliction, pretending to be in a