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"Oh, yes," he said at last, brightening up, "I was sayin' to ye hoo quick I was to see the humorous side o' onything. "Man, man," said Hendry, admiringly, "and what is't?" "Oh, it's this, there's something humorous in speirin' a woman to let ye aff so as ye can be married to another woman." "I daursay there is," said Hendry, doubtfully.
"Truffey," said Mr Malison, after a long pause, during which he had been staring into the fire, "how's your leg?" "Quite weel, thank ye, sir," answered Truffey, unconsciously putting out the foot of the wrong leg on the fender. "There wasna onything the maitter wi' 't." "I mean the other leg, Truffey the one that I that I hurt." "Perfectly weel, sir. It's no worth speirin' efter.
"But what was done would be of the right sort, and surpassingly powerful." "Weel, to come back to the business in han' what wad be yer advice?" said Bow o' meal. "That's a thing none but a lawyer should give. I have shown you what seem to me the principles involved: I can do no more." "Ye dinna ca' that neebourly, whan a body comes speirin' 't?" "Are you prepared then to take my advice?"
"Ow na, no aye," answered Janet; " only whiles, whan the speerit o' speirin' gets the upper han' o' me for a sizon." "I doobt that same speerit 'll lead ye far frae the still watters some day, Janet," said Jean, stirring the porridge vehemently. "Ow, I think not," answered Janet very calmly. "Whan the Maister says what's that to thee?
"The warld gaes vara weel wi' me, thanks to ye for speirin'. No that the warld's onie better, but the Lord turns all to gude for His ain. The minister's in his study, and he'll be blithe to see ye. Now, my lassie I ask your pardon, but ye see I'm used to Miss Flora."
Again Cosmo burst into a great laugh, and this time Grizzie, seriously alarmed lest he should be in reality fey, grew angry, and seizing hold of him by the arm, pulled lustily. "Get up, I tell ye!" she cried. "Here's the laird speirin' what's come o' ye,'at ye come na hame to yer tay."
"It's no like it, my lord," returned Blue Peter, "whan the first thing I say is what wad ye ha'e o' me? Here I am no speirin' a queston!" "Weel, I wad ha'e ye hear the story o' 't a'." "Say on, my lord," said Peter. But Malcolm was silent for a few moments. "I was thinkin', Peter," he said at last, "whether I cud bide to hear you say my lord to me.
"She's some ill for rinnin' oot," said Bruce, with soft words addressed to Dow, and a cutting look flung at Annie, "withoot speirin' leave, and we dinna ken whaur she gangs; and that's no richt for lass-bairns." "Never ye min' her, Mr Bruce," replied Dow. "I ken her better nor you, no meanin' ony offence, seein' she was i' my airms afore she was a week auld.
Na, na, Jess, Davit may hae his faults an' tak a dram at times like anither, but he would shame naebody at a bural, an' Marget deleeberately insulted him, no speirin' him to Pete's.
"Whaur I winna tell, an' whaur you nor nae ither body s' get him. An' ye needna speir, for it wadna be richt to tell; an' gien ye gang on speirin', you an' me winna be lang freen's." As she spoke, the child looked straight up into his face with wide opened blue eyes, as truthful as the heavens, and Malcolm dared not press her, for it would have been to press her to do wrong.
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