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Updated: June 1, 2025
It's standin' cauld and lanely and steikit, and it aince the cheeriest dwallin' in a' Carrick." Mrs. Morran's tone grew tragic. "It's a queer warld wi'out the auld gentry. My faither and my guidsire and his faither afore him served the Kennedys, and my man Dauvit Morran was gemkeeper to them, and afore I mairried I was ane o' the table-maids.
He'll be out a' day at the craig watchin' solans, or lyin' a' mornin' i' the moss lookin' at bog-blitters." "Will he help, think you?" "I'll wager he'll help. Onyway it's your best chance, and better a wee bush than nae beild. Now, sit in to your breakfast." It was a merry meal. Mrs. Morran dispensed tea and gnomic wisdom.
I believe it's a muckle lee, but there's the gentlemen to answer ye theirsels." Mrs. Morran, brandishing a dishclout dramatically, flung open the door, and with a vigorous push propelled into the kitchen a singular figure. It was a stunted boy, who from his face might have been fifteen years old, but had the stature of a child of twelve.
"Let's have Mrs. Morran in," he ventured. "She's a wise old body and I'd like to hear her opinion of this business. We'll get common sense from her." "I don't object," said Heritage. "But no amount of common sense will change my mind." Their hostess forestalled them by returning at that moment to the kitchen.
Sundry bandages and strips of sticking plaster still adorn the Poet, but his clothes have been tidied up by Mrs. Morran, and he has recovered something of his old precision of garb. The eyes of both are fixed on the two figures on the cliff-top. Dickson feels acutely uneasy. It is the first time that he has been alone with Heritage since the arrival of Alexis shivered the Poet's dream.
As he rolled into bed his mind was curiously at ease. He felt equipped for any call that might be made on him. That Mrs. Morran should welcome him back as a resource in need gave him a new assurance of manhood. He woke between nine and ten to the sound of rain lashing against the garret window.
Morran breasted the ascent till she had on her right the moorland running south to the Lochan valley and on her left Garple chafing in its deep forested gorges. Her eyes were quick and she noted with interest a weasel creeping from a fern-clad cairn. A little way on she passed an old ewe in difficulties and assisted it to rise.
But when in a sudden return of modesty he belittled his usefulness and talked sombrely of his mature years he was told that he "wad never be auld wi' sae muckle honesty." Indeed it was very clear that Mrs. Morran approved of her nephew. They did not linger over breakfast, for both were impatient to be on the road. Mrs. Morran assisted Saskia to put on Elspeth's shoes.
She moved towards it with a quaking heart, and was relieved to find that it was only a new and expensive bicycle with the front wheel badly buckled. Mrs. Morran delayed no longer. If she had walked well on her out journey, she beat all records on the return. Sometimes she would run till her breath failed; then she would slow down till anxiety once more quickened her pace.
Morran's kitchen before a meal which fulfilled their wildest dreams. She had been baking that morning, so there were white scones and barley scones, and oaten farles, and russet pancakes. "Try hinny and aitcake," said their hostess. "My man used to say he never fund onything as guid in a' his days." Presently they heard her story. Her name was Morran, and she had been a widow these ten years.
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