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Updated: May 17, 2025
"Wha am I, to be speirt sic a queston! Wha but yersel' wad hae daurt it, Mistress Mellis?" "I hae nae wuss to pry intill ony secrets o' yours, or " "Secrets!" shouted Miss Horn! But her consciousness of good intent, and all but assurance of final victory, upheld Mrs Mellis. "The parlour blind 's gane up crookit sin' ever that thoomb fingert cratur, Watty Witherspail, made a new roller till 't.
I thoucht I was ower mony for her than: I wonner she daur be at me again." "She 's daurt her God er' noo, an' may weel daur you. But what says yer gran'father till 't, no?" "He hasna hard a chuckie's cheep o' 't." "What are we haverin' at than! Canna he sattle the maitter aff han'?" Miss Horn eyed him keenly as she spoke.
"Wha ever daurt sic a lee upo' my Grizel?" shouted Miss Horn, clenching and shaking her bony fist at the world in general. "It was but a fortnicht or three weeks, as near as I can judge, efter the birth o' your bairn, that Grizel Cam'ell " "Were you with her then?" again interrupted the marquis, in a tone of sorrowful interest. "No, my lord, I was not.
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