THE old tower of Littledean, on Tweedside, had long been haunted by the spirit of an old lady, once its mistress, who had been a covetous, grasping woman, and oppressive to the poor. Tradition averred that she had amassed a large sum of money by thrift or extortion, and now could not rest in her grave because of it. Spite of its ghost, however, Littledean Tower was inhabited by a laird and his family, who found no fault with their place of abode, and were not much troubled by thoughts of the supernatural world. One Saturday evening, however, a servant-girl, who was cleaning shoes in the kitchen by herself, suddenly observed an elflight shining on the floor. While she gazed on it, it disappeared, and in its place stood an old woman wrapped in a brown cloak, who muttered something about being cold, and asked to warm herself at the fire. The girl readily consented, and seeing that her visitor’s shoes were wet, and her toes peeping out blue and cold from their tips, she good-naturedly offered to dry and clean the shoes, and did so. The old lady, touched by this attention, confessed herself frankly to be the apparition that haunted the house. "My gold wudna let me rest," said she, "but I’ll tell ye where it lies; ‘tis ‘neath the lowest step o’ the Tower stairs. Take the laird there, an’ tell him what I now tell ye; then, dig up the treasure, and put it in his hands. An’ tell him to part it in two shares: one share let him keep, for he’s master here now; the other share he maun part again, and gie half to you, for ye are a kind lassie and a true, and half he maun gie to the poor o’ Maxton, the auld folk and the fatherless bairns, and them that need it most. Do this an’ I sall rest in my grave, where I’ve no rested yet; and never will I trouble the house mair till the day o’ doom." The girl rubbed her eyes, looked again, and behold the old woman was gone!