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"I wasna born on a Sabbath," retorted Jess. "Na, na, dinna tell me Eppie's fond o' her. Tell Eppie to come but to the kitchen when the tea's ower." Jess and Eppie had half an hour's conversation alone, and then our guests left. "It's a richt guid thing," said Hendry, "'at Eppie has ta'en sic a notion o' the wife." "Ou, ay," said Jess. Then Hendry hobbled out of the house. "What said Eppie to ye?"
"Na, na; twa's a plenty, I'm tellin' ye." "But I'm afraid we'll have to do with two." The Scotch-Canadian evinced his satisfaction openly. "Mair'd be a bother; an' I doot not ye'll mak' it all richt, lad." "And you'll make one of those two, Tommy," Corliss went on, inexorably. "Na; there's ithers a plenty wi'oot coontin' me." "No, there's not. Courbertin doesn't know the first thing. St.
"Ay, he's richt," said the Scotchman as he watched him go. "Tom Pollard, man, I hinna prayed for years, but I am praying to-nicht. I ought to be a different man, for I ken the fundamentals of releegion, but I'm giving my heart to God to-nicht; I am for sure." Tom followed the Scotchman out of the canteen towards one of the numerous sleeping-huts.
He was sleeping quietly when the wind drove the snow against the window with a sudden "swish ;" and he instantly awoke, so to say, in his sleep. Some one needed him. "Are ye frae Glen Urtach?" and an unheard voice seemed to have answered him. "Worse is she, an' sufferin' awfu'; that's no lichtsome; ye did richt tae come.
Miss Napier guessed at the truth at once that he had overheard some free remarks on his well-known licence of behaviour. 'Weel, my lord, I do my best. But I believe ye're i' the richt, my lord, for I heard an awfu' aff-gang o' sweirin' i' the yard, jist afore yer lordship cam' in. An' noo' 'at I think o' 't, it wasna that onlike yer lordship's ain word. Lord Sandy broke into a loud laugh.
I'll admit that the figures he named fair tuk my breath awa'. I'll no be tellin' ye what they were, but, after he'd tauld them tae me, I'd ha' made a good record for my first one had I had to stay there trying all nicht. "All richt," I said. "Ca' awa' I'm the man for ye if it's sae muckle ye're willin' tae pay me." "Oh, aye but we'll get it all back, and more beside," said the manager.
"Ye're richt there, my leddy; but she wad only gang some ither gait amo' the same. Of coorse ye maun tell yer father, but she's no fit for him to tak ony notice o'." As they sat at breakfast, Florimel did tell her father. His first emotion, however at least the first he showed was vexation with herself. "You must not be going out alone and at such ridiculous hours," he said.
'And noo, continued Steenie, 'I'm richt glaid she's gane, and my min' 'll be mair at ease gien I tell ye what for: I maun aye tell you a'thing 'at 'll bide tellin, Kirsty, ye ken! Weel, a week or twa ago, I began to be troubled as I never was troubled afore.
What would the police say?" "They never troubled Dalquharter muckle. There's no' a polisman nearer than Knockraw yin Johnnie Trummle, and he's as useless as a frostit tattie." "The wiselike thing, as I think," said Dickson, "would be to turn the Procurator-Fiscal on to the job. It's his business, no' ours." "Well, I wadna say but ye're richt, said the lady. "What would you do if you were us?"
'It was a bonnie bairnie as ever ye saw. It luikit in her face, she says, as gin it kent a' aboot it, and had only come to help her throu the warst o' 't; for it gaed hame 'maist as sune's ever she was richt able to thank God for sen'in' her sic an angel to lead her to repentance. 'John, said his wife, coming behind his chair, and laying her hand on his shoulder, 'what for dinna ye speyk?
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