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Updated: June 19, 2025
It's no mainners to lat at a wuman like that." He turned upon her, and gave her a cut on the arm and hand, so stinging that she cried out, and nearly fell from the cart. Out rushed Peter and flew at the factor, who from his seat of vantage began to ply his whip about his head.
Eh, Francie, Francie! ye're no worth my takin' and ye're no like to be worth the takin o' ony honest wuman! Can ye possibly imegine a wuman merryin a man 'at she kenned wud drive her to coontless petitions to be hauden ohn despisit him? Ye mak my hert unco sair, Francie! I hae dune my best wi' ye, and the en' o' 't is, 'at ye're no worth naething!
An' for that bonnie wuman, Mistress Scletter, ye can tell her, 'at by the time I hae onything to say to the warl', it winna be my claes 'at'll haud fowk ohn hearkent; an' gien she considers them 'at I hae noo, ower sair a disgrace till her gran' rooms, she maun jist no inveet me, an' I'll no come; for I canna presently help them.
"I can sit nae langer, Mr Mellis," returned Miss Horn. "I hae eneuch to gang upo' as lang 's I hae my ain flure aneth my feet: the wuman has nae business there. I'll jist slip across an' gang in, as quaiet as a sowl intill a boady; but I s' warran' I s' mak a din afore I come oot again!" With a grim diagonal nod she left the room.
"Hoots, Grizzie! haud yer tongue, my wuman," said the laird, in the gentlest tone, yet with reproof in it. "Ye ken weel it's no my mother wad grudge me the milk ye wad gie me. It was but my'sel' 'at didna think mysel' worthy o' that same, seein' it's no a week yet sin' bonny Hawkie dee'd!" "An' wad ye hae the Lord's anintit depen' upo' Hawkie?" cried Grizzie with indignation.
"I'm glaid to see the yoong wuman an' a bonny lass she is! in sic guid company," said Miss Horn, looking down from the opposite side of the way. "I'm thinkin' the han' o' the markis 'ill be i' this, no'!" All was ready to receive her, but in the present bad state of the harbour, and the tide having now ebbed a little way, the boat could not get close either to quay or shore.
'He will forgie ye, gin ye tell me whaur she is. 'Do ye think he will? Eh, Maister Faukner! The wuman bides in a coort off o' Clare Market. I dinna min' upo' the name o' 't, though I cud gang till 't wi' my een steekit. Her name's Widow Walker an auld rowdie damn her sowl! 'Na, na, ye maunna say that gin ye want to be forgien yersel'. I'll fin' her oot.
The mair 's the peety he sud hae hed the milk o' an honest wuman upo' the tap o' that!" "But what cud the auld runt be efter? What was her business wi' 't? She never did onything for the bairn." "Na, no she! She never had the chance, guid or ill Ow! doobtless it wad be anent what they ca' the eedentryfeein' o' im to the leddy o' Gersefell. She had sent her. But she made little o' me."
Wan day th' 'Dummy' came along t' m' stone-pile. Ye mind 'er, don't ye?" "Th' Dummy," Willie continued, "came over t' th' pile an' acted purty gay, but says I, 'Dummy, if there's anythin' I kin give ye I'll give it, but there's nothin' ye kin give me! "'Ye break stones fur a livin', says she. "'Aye, says I. "'What wud ye do if ye wor a lone wuman an' cudn't get nothin' at all t' do?
"Na; there's ower mony o' ye lordship's jeists hae turnt fearsome earnest to them at tuik them!" "What mean ye, wuman?" "Wuman! quo' he? My name's Grisel Grant. Wha kens na auld Grizzie, 'at never turnt her back on freen' or foe? But I'm no gaein til affront yer lordship wi' the sicht o' yersel' afore fowk sae long, that is, as ye haud a quaiet souch.
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