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But the sort of whilk we noo speak, are a waur sort a'thegither; for they come to the inside o' yer hoose, o' yer verra chaumer, an' hing oot their lang lugs to hear what ye carena to be hard save by a dooce frien' or twa ower a het tum'ler. At the same moment the door opened, and a man entered, who was received with unusual welcome. 'Bless my sowl! said the president, rising; 'it's Mr. Lammie!
He too had been drinking. 'Kick that toad into the street, or, by heaven! it's the last drop any of you drink in this house! he cried. Lord Sandy left the room without another word. His factor took his hat and followed him. The rest dropped into their seats in silence. Mr. Lammie was the first to speak. 'There's a pliskie! he said. 'I cud jist say the word efter auld Simeon, said MacGregor.
She ought to have been a young girl instead of an elderly woman, if there was any propriety in the way her mistress spoke to her. It proved at least her own belief in the description she had given of her to Miss Lammie. 'Noo, Betty, ye maun be dooce. An' dinna stan' at the door i' the gloamin'. An' dinna stan' claikin' an' jawin' wi' the ither lasses whan ye gang to the wall for watter.
At length the conversation had turned again to Andrew Falconer's death. 'Whaur said ye he dee'd, Mr. Lammie? 'I never said he was deid. I said I was feared 'at he was deid. 'An' what gars ye say that? It micht be o' consequence to hae 't correck, said the solicitor. 'I had a letter frae my auld frien' and his, Dr. Anderson. Ye min' upo' him, Mr. Innes, dunna ye?
Of his wife's relatives there had never been one who would have taken any trouble about him after her death, hardly even before it. John Lammie was the only person, except Dr. Anderson, whose friendship he could suppose capable of this development. The latter was the more likely person.
One of the men who had accompanied the cart took the gig; and they were left on the road-side with Robert's trunk and box the latter a present from Miss Lammie. Their places had been secured, and the guard knew where he had to take them up.
Darkness was falling rapidly, but she could distinguish his small figure against the snow, and his halting gait. "What is it, Arthur? what is it, lammie?" "O Cousin Mary Anne! Cousin Mary Anne! It's Uncle John, an' 'ee's dead!" She ran like the wind at the words, catching at the child's hand in the dark, and dragging him along with her. "Where is he, Arthur? don't take on, honey!"
"We can find out from his bailiff, sir, but" with cold contempt "I think that trained nurse is just comin' up from her dinner, so 'm afraid we'll 'ave to ask you, sir... Now, Master George Ai-ie! Wake a litty minute, lammie!" A few months later the three of them were down at the brook in the Gale Anstey woods to consider the rebuilding of a footbridge carried away by spring floods.
Lammie started to his feet. 'Bless my sowl, Aggy! that's Anderson! he cried, and hurried to the door. His daughter followed. The boys kept their seats. A loud and hearty salutation reached their ears; but the voice of the farmer was all they heard. Presently he returned, bringing with him the tallest and slenderest man Robert had ever seen.
'Lat the lasses greit for ye gin they like; but haud oot ower frae the kissin'. I wadna mell wi' 't. 'Hoot, father, dinna put sic nonsense i' the bairns' heids, said Miss Lammie. 'Whilk 's the nonsense, Aggy? asked her father, slily. 'But I doobt, he added, 'he'll never play the Flooers o' the Forest as it suld be playt, till he's had a taste o' the kissin', lass.
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