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'Dod! they'll hae to gie that wife a hell til hersel! said David, turning to the door discomfited. 'And maybe she'll no like it whan she hes't! returned his wife, who had heard every word. 'There's fowk 'at's no fit company for onybody! and I'm thinkin she's ane gien there bena anither! 'I'll sen' Jeamie hame wi' the powny the nicht, said David. 'A body canna insist whaur fowk are no frien's.
"Lie still, Mr Alec," said Dow, in a whisper. "The mistress 'll be in her bed. And gin ye gang in upo' her that gait, ye'll drive her daft." Alec lay down again, and Dow went to Mary's window, on the other side, to try to wake her. But just as he returned, Alec heard his mother's window open. "Who's there?" she called. "Naebody but me, Jeamie Doo," answered James.
Blatherwick went on. "I cam hame but twa nichts ago. He's lodged wi' a dacent widow in Arthur Street, in a flat up a lang stane stair that gangs roun and roun till ye come there, and syne gangs past the door and up again. She taks in han' to luik efter his claes, and sees to the washin o' them, and does her best to hand him tidy; but Jeamie was aye that partic'lar aboot his appearance!
"The Lord preserve's!" cried Dow, and could say no more. "He has preserved me, ye see, Jeamie. Hoo's my mother?" "She's brawly, brawly, Mr Alec. The Lord preserve's! She's been terrible aboot ye. Ye maunna gang in upo' her. It wad kill her." "I hae a grainy sense left, Jeamie. But I'm awfu' tired. Ye maun jist turn yer cairt and tak' me hame. I'll be worth a lade o' coal to my mither ony gait.
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