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Updated: May 4, 2025
The soutar opened it himself, and took the minister straight to the ben-end of the house, where Isy sat alone. She rose, and with downcast eyes went to meet him. "Isy," he faltered, "can ye forgie me? And wull ye merry me as sene's ever we can be cried? I'm as ashamed o' mysel as even ye would hae me!" "Ye haena sae muckle to be ashamet o' as I hae, sir: it was a' my wyte!"
Is na he aye shovin' the door o' the kingdom a wee wider to lat me see in the better? But as to wantin'him for my ain man, as ye hae my father! mother, I wad be ashamet o' mysel' to think o' ony sic a thing! clean affrontit wi' mysel' I wad be!" "Weel, weel, bairn! Ye was aye a wise like lass, an' I maun lippen til ye! Only luik to yer hert."
She heard every word, and went about her work softly that she might hear, never opening her mouth to speak. 'There's something ye want to tell me and dinna like, lassie! said David. 'Gien ye be feart at yer father, gang til yer mither. 'Feart at my father! I wad be, gien I bed onything to be ashamet o'. Syne I micht gang to my mither, I daursay I dinna ken. 'Ye wud that, lassie.
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