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"A choke's a choke, ma'am," said Duncan, rising with dignity; "put for a laty to make a choke of a man's pare leks is not ta propriety!" "Oot o' my hoose wi' ye!" screamed the she Partan. 'At I sud say what wadna stan' the licht as weels the bare houghs o' ony heelan' rascal 'at ever lap a lawlan' dyke!" "Deil shochle them!" exclaimed the Partaness; "what care I for 's legs!"
"Her ladyship wad gi'e hersel' sma' concern gien the haill bilin' o' ye war whaur ye cam frae," returned the factor. "An' for the toon here, the fowk kens the guid o' a quaiet caus'ay ower weel to lament the loss o' ye." "The deil's i' the man!" cried the Partaness in high scorn.
"Then my laty will pe right welcome to Tuncan's heart," he replied, and taking her hand again led her to a chair. When they left, she expressed herself charmed with the piper, but when she learned the cause of his peculiar behaviour at first, she looked grave, and found his feeling difficult to understand. They next visited the Partaness, with whom she was far more amused than puzzled.
"I should be obliged if you would inform me where the man lives," returned the lackey with polite words in supercilious tones. "What d' ye want wi' him, honest man?" grimly questioned the Partaness, the epithet referring to Duncan, and not the questioner. "That 1 shall have the honour of informing himself," he replied.
"Ay! an' what micht that be?" "But she's maybe a freen' o' yours, Mrs Findlay? Some fowk likes her, though I canna say I'm ane o' them." "Freen' o' mine!" exclaimed the Partaness. "I wadna wonner! for they tellt me 'at saw her fechtin' i' the High Street wi' a muckle loon, near han' as big 's hersel'! an' haith, but Meg had the best o' 't, an' flang him intil the gutter, an' maist fellt him!
"As sure's we're baith alive," asseverated Malcolm, "I ken nae mair nor a sawtit herrin' what ye're drivin' at." "Tell me 'at ye dinna ken what a' the queentry kens an' hit aboot yer ain sel'!" screamed the Partaness. "I tell ye I ken naething; an' gien ye dinna tell me what ye're efter direckly, I s' haud awa' to Mistress Allison she 'll tell me." This was a threat sufficiently prevailing.
One afternoon, as he passed through the Seaton from the harbour, to have a look at the cutter, he heard the Partaness calling after him. "Weel, ye're a sicht for sair een noo 'at ye're like to turn oot something worth luikin' at!" she cried, as he approached with his usual friendly smile. "What du ye mean by that, Mistress Findlay?" asked Malcolm, carelessly adding: "Is yer man in?"
"Then my laty will pe right welcome to Tuncan's heart," he replied, and taking her hand again led her to a chair. When they left she expressed herself charmed with the piper, but when she learned the cause of his peculiar behavior at first she looked grave, and found his feeling difficult to understand. They next visited the Partaness, with whom she was far more amused than puzzled.
There was a strong natural antagonism between her and the Partaness, but she had never shown the least dislike to her, and that although Mrs Findlay had never lost an opportunity of manifesting hers to the midwife.
Before he left the Seaton, the staff he carried was for show rather than use, but now he was bent over it, as if but for it he would fall into his grave. His knock was feeble and doubtful, as if unsure of a welcoming response. He was broken, sad, and uncomforted. A moment passed. The door was unlatched, and within stood the Partaness, wiping her hands in her apron, and looking thunderous.
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