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"She can't have met any men, unless at that old Scotchwoman's house," replied Mrs. Home-Davis. "Perhaps even their Romish consciences would have forced them to show her a few, before she took her vows Catholic young men, of course." "Perhaps one of them decided her to break the vows." "She hasn't really broken them, you know, Elinor. We must be just."
"Homer, the graund Greek poet," she answered cheerily; "an' I'm to have anither o' Burns, as tall as Homer, when my daughter comes hame frae E'nbro'." If the shade of Homer keeps account of his earthly triumphs, I think he is proud of his place in that humble Scotchwoman's gillyflower garden, with his head under the drooping petals of granny's white mutches.
The question I put in a wider reference is the question of the Englishman, as expressed in the Scotchwoman's dialect, What's intilt? and I assume that there enter into it, as radically component parts, at least the ingredients of this motley soup.
She continued: "But ye see a guid, honest Scotchwoman's no to be suspected of being shabby at her own table; so read ye that, which you may take for the bread-pudding."
I counted the buttons on the Scotchwoman's waist eight or ten times, and by-and-by she asked if I was sick. But I wasn't. She was a kind-hearted woman, and I'd been to her house a good deal, so she asked me to come in and rest. I wasn't tired, so I went away, and climbed back up to the little shack and the mine that I hated now."
Her imagination led the way, and left her with a picture of a situation or a subject, but she was very vague about facts and statistics. As a woman of business she was shrewd, with all a Scotchwoman's power of looking at both sides of a bawbee before she spent it, but she was also extraordinarily generous in a very simple and unostentatious way, and her hospitality was boundless.
She bent her head and wept, and these tears betrayed what her exile had been to the Scotchwoman's heart. Mrs. Fordyce was scarcely less moved. It was a pathetic and beautiful romance.
'I beg your pardon, what is it? Gladys asked kindly, and the surprise deepened on the Scotchwoman's face. 'Ye'll be his niece, mebbe his brither's lass, are ye, eh? And hae ye come to bide? If ye hiv, Almichty help ye! Gladys shook her head, not understanding yet a single word. At this awkward juncture the old man came hurrying along the passage, and Mrs.
You must have felt at home, as a Scotchwoman's daughter." "Think of the peaks in the sunrise! Oh! I wanted you in the pass of Roncevalles, to hear the echo of Roland's horn. And we saw the cleft made by Roland's sword in the rocks." "Oh! how delightful and Spain too!" "Ay, the Isle of Pheasants, where all the conferences took place."
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