All this while the old
attendant kept up the unceasing accompaniment of her ballad, which
she must have sung through several times, for I heard the first
line--
'A bailie's daughter, fair was she'--
at least thrice.
Though I addressed several questions to my singular relation, she
made no attempt to answer them. It seemed that what she had uttered
was all she was capable of; and this, I learned afterwards, was
partly true. Circumstances of her early life had given her a taste
for family history, particularly that of her own, and her faculties,
though otherwise impaired, still retained everything relating to
what concerned her ancestry.
On our way back from this singular scene, my cousin remarked that it
had saddened me. 'It would sadden you more,' she continued, 'were you
to know the history of the domestic wreck we have just left behind.'
'That is precisely what I intended to inquire of you.'
'It is a deeply-affecting story; but'--and here the young lady
blushed and hesitated--'I think it would not be right in me to reveal
it.
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