Every good action has its fruit, though the doer of it but seldom plucks it in this world. Contrariwise the fruits of ill-done deeds are early ripeners, and it is seldom the teeth of the children that are set on edge.

Patsy, faring leisurely westward to meet the Princess in the park and be driven home, at the corner of Lyonesse House, just where you turn towards the green of the tree-tops discerned at the street’s end, came within the sound of a mighty voice.

A tall, heavily built man of fierce aspect and red choleric face was picking himself up off the ground, opposite a house from which he had been forcibly ejected, and a crowd of ordinary street loafers was gathering about. Patsy would have turned away, but there was something curiously familiar about the tones of the voice and the imaginative dialect which drew her in spite of herself.

“Fower against yin!” shouted the voice; “and three o’ them I hae markit. Whaur’s your Dukes noo? I hae gi’en yin o’ them a fine black eye. If Dukes will not pay their debts, faith, I’ll pay their skins. I had a punch at the fat yin too, and doon he went like a bag o’ wat sand!”

Patsy hurried forward, elbowing her way vigorously, and the beauty of her dress even more than the dark intensity of her face, caused the throng to make way. She saw the man clearly now, and already the crowd was beginning to seek for missiles.

“Kennedy McClure,” she said, taking hold of the man’s arm, “come your ways out o’ this and as fast as may be-

“Lea’ me alane, I tell ye,” he cried, “I will go back and take another punch at them-all six at a time-Dukes that will not pay their debts!”

“Quiet now! I am Patsy Ferris of Cairn Ferris-Adam’s daughter, and a friend. Here, laird, get into this coach” (she had beckoned one from a stand and given a direction), “there, Supsorrow, into this coach and bide you still as I bid ye. You are going to see the inside of a gaol if you stay where you are. The rascals want no better. Now be quiet, Supsorrow, I am my father’s daughter, and I know what is good for you.”

By this time the carriage was in motion. She had taken out a pair of spare handkerchiefs such as women carry, and was dusting his knee-breeches when Kennedy came to himself.

“Patsy-Patsy Ferris grown a great leddy! No-what is that ye are after-then ye shall not!-Let my shoe-buckles alane-I’m tellin’ ye!”

“You are going to meet a princess,” said Patsy, polishing away; “and I intend that you shall do no discredit to Galloway.”

“A princess-hech, let me get oot o’ this,” cried the angry gentleman-farmer, making attempts to reach the door; “I could not touch her, but I’d be feared that I could not keep my tongue off ony o’ that breed.”

“Oh, she is none of ‘that breed,’ as you say.” Here Patsy resumed her seat, and after a general inspection set Laird Supsorrow’s cocked hat straight on his head, and pronounced that he would do.

The Princess was waiting for her friend at the park entrance, and she seemed somewhat surprised when she saw her advancing in company with a big solidly built countryman, with his seals dangling and silver buckles shining at knee and shoe-latchet.

But Princess Elsa instantly understood. Patsy had discovered a countryman lost in London, and with the friendliness which characterized her she had brought him on to taste of the hospitality of Hanover Lodge. Accordingly she smiled her most friendly smile as Patsy made the presentation.

“Did I not tell you, Patsy,” she said; “there was a ‘visitor’ in the tea this morning?”

And she held out her hand which Kennedy of Supsorrow instantly grasped and shook heartily.

“I’m sair obleeged to ye, ma leddy,” he said, “this is mair honour than ever I thought wad come my road in this world. And I hae kenned Miss Patsy ever since I catched her up my sugar-ploom tree and she pelted me wi’ the ploom-stanes. Ech, she was a besom, and I’m thinkin’ she is no muckle better yet!”

The Princess invited Kennedy to take the seat opposite to them and be driven home. She was really very glad to see any one who came to her from Patsy’s country.

“Faith,” said honest Kennedy, “her and me does not aye agree. She’s ower fond o’ stravagin’ through my fields after a trashery o’ wild flooers, and leavin’ gates open ahint her! But she’s aye a bonny thing to see, and she plays the mischief wi’ the lads yonder. I used to like a lass like that when I was young-and noo I’m auld, I hae still a saft side for Miss Patsy-though I do wish, ma leddy, that ye would speak to her aboot shutting the yetts after her!”

The Princess, after the speech had been interpreted to her, promised to do her best in the matter of the gates, and during their drive to Hanover Lodge, he kept the Princess immensely amused with the story of his encounter with the two Dukes.

The matter needed to be interpreted, and in places expurgated, but in substance it ran as followeth:-

“I cam’ to London to get the price o’ a pair o’ horse and a fine new carriage-as good as new onyway-oh, ye have seen the turn-out, Miss Patsy. Aye, aye-it had served the Laird o’ the Marrick a while, I will not deny-that is, not to you-but it was a fine faceable carriage whatever, before the lad that fired on the Duke dang it a’ to flinders. I reckoned the total value at twa hundred pounds, and it was the odd hundred-and-fifty I caa’ed roond to collect at the Duke’s hoose.

“The flunkey in the fine gowd-braided reid coatie wasna sure aboot lettin’ me in, but I soon had my double-soled shoe in the kink o’ the door and afore my lad kenned, I was inside the graund hall. I took a look aboot me, very careful, and, guid faith, the lackeys were standing round as thick as thistles o’ the field in their red plush breeks. Only they didna look as if they were the stuff to put me oot.

“So I explained to him that appeared to be the heid yin, the naitur’ o’ my errand. Very ceevil I was, but when I had dune he just laughed and the rest they laughed after him.

“‘You have come to the wrong shop, my man,’ says he, ’pay a debt in a Royal Duke’s house-who ever heard of the like? Ye must go to Parliament about that!’

“‘Then,’ said I, ‘ye are gaun to hear the like noo!’

“And down I sat on a fine soffy to wait for the Duke. They cried to one another to come and ‘put me oot,’ that the Duke and his brother would be doon afore lang, and that it would never do for him to find me there-it was as much as their places were worth!

“Then when they cam’ to lay hands on me, and I aye keepit on saying ower and ower to mysel’ as if it were a lesson, ’The big yin’s nose, and your e’e, and the ither chap’s jaw!’ They could see my knuckles clenched middlin’ firm-and so they stoppit to think about it. There was nae crowdin’ to be first! Na, fegs!

“Juist then there was a sound o’ laughin’ and talkin’, and four gentlemen cam’ doon the stairs. The first two were braw, and the others ahint were officers-just plain sodger officers, but they were a’ lauchin’ throughither as pack as thieves.

“There was ane o’ the first twa with the blue sashes that limpit. Says I to mysel’, ‘That’s Stair Garland’s chairge o’ buckshot, and him I took to be my man. So I askit him civilly to pay me the hundred-and-fifty pund that was due me on the horses, and no sooner were the words oot o’ my mouth, than he swore he would have me hung, drawn and quartered, for a murdering rogue, a thief and a liar.

“I heard him till he was clean oot o’ breath, and then I explained again. But he was deaf as ony adder, and only cried, him and his brither baith, for the officers to throw me oot at the window. Then one of the officers blew a whistle, and I kenned what that was for.

“‘Nae guards wi’ biggonets for Kennedy McClure,’ says I. ’Here’s for ye! Come on, ye spangled rogues-the whole thieving dollop of ye!’

“And with that I let drive amang them, and there’s twa o’ the dukes and at least yin o’ the officers that will not show their faces for a day or two. The leddies would not think them bonny. They are signed ’Kennedy of Supsorrow-his mark!’ Oh-no! But they were ower mony for me at the last. They got me aff my feet and flang me into the street wi’ a clash that near split the paving-stanes. Then, when the low ribaldry o’ the toon was gettin’ my birses up, and they had sent to fetch the guard, up comes this bonny young leddy, and speerited me awa’ in a coach, me swearin’ ootragious and maist unwillin’-just like a fool tyke that hasna had eneuch o’ a fecht. Syne she brushes me and cossets me, and so here I am, madam, at your service, and no fit for the company of my betters, being but a landward man with little education and by nature a man of wrath far beyond ithers.”