you, I think, for Lord Avondale's sake, you would regret it." "I do; but indeed—"
The entrance of Buchanan put a stop to this conversation. "Are you ready?" he cried. "Ready! I have waited for you three hours: it is five, and you promised to come before two." "You would excuse me, I am sure, if you knew how excessively ill I have been. I am but this moment out of bed. That accursed hazard kept me up till ten this morning. Once, I sat two days and nights at it: but it's no matter." "You take no care of yourself.—I wish for my sake you would." The manner in which Calantha said this, was most particularly flattering and kind: it was, indeed, ever so; but the return she met with (like the lady who loved the swine). "Honey," quoth she, "thou shalt in silver salvers dine:" "Humph," quoth he) was most uncourteous. "Truly I care not if I am knocked on the head to-morrow," replied Buchanan. "There
