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Updated: August 15, 2024
"Please, sir," answered Dawtie, "I have something to confess: would ye hearken to me?" "No, no, Dawtie! I am sure you have nothing to confess!" returned the old man, eager to send her away, and to prevent her from seeing the importance of the room whose entrance she had discovered.
"Because " began Dawtie, and stopped short; she shrunk from impugning the honesty of the dead man and in the presence of his daughter. "It looks a little fishy, don't it, Dawtie? Why not speak straight out? Perhaps you would not mind searching Meg's trunk for me. She may have taken it for a bit of old brass, you know." "I will answer for my servants, Mr. Crawford," said Alexa.
Little Dawtie had learned her catechism, but, thank God, had never thought about it or attempted to understand it good negative preparation for becoming, in a few years more, able to understand the New Testament with the heart of a babe.
"Oh, Agnes!" he cried, "do not leave me. I'm not a bad man! I'm not what Dawtie calls me. I believe in the atonement; I put no trust in myself; my righteousness is as filthy rags. Take me with you. I will go with you. There! Slip that under your white robe washed in the blood of the Lamb. That will hide it with the rest of my sins! The unbelieving husband is sanctified by the believing wife.
"Don't you think, sir," said Dawtie, "that whoever has that cup ought to send it back to the place it was stolen from?" Had the old man been a developed hypocrite, he would have replied at once: "He certainly ought." But by word of mouth to condemn himself would have been to acknowledge to himself that he ought to send the cup home, and this he dared not do.
The life given by such a God would be a life not worth living, even if He made His votaries as happy as they would choose to be. A God like that could not make a woman like Dawtie anxious about Him! If God be not each as Jesus, what good would the proving of her innocence be to Dawtie! A mighty thing indeed that the world should confess she was not a thief!
"Wait," she murmured; "wait." "I winna wait, Dawtie." "Wait till ye hear what they'll say the morn." "Dawtie, I'm ashamed o' ye. What care I, an' what daur ye care what they say. Are ye no the Lord's clean yowie? Gien ye care for what ony man thinks o' ye but the Lord himsel', ye're no a' His.
He expressed his regret that he had brought such suffering upon Dawtie, and said he was ready to make whatever amends her husband might think fit. Alexa accepted the watch, and wore it. She thought her father would like her to do so. The friendship of the three was never broken.
Noo, maybe ye dinna ken what I mean but tak ye tent what ye're aboot. Dinna ye think 'at ilka bonnie lass 'at may like to haud a wark wi' ye 's jist ready to mairry ye aff han' whan ye say, "Noo, my dawtie." An' ae word mair, Robert: Young men, especially braw lads like yersel', 's unco ready to fa' in love wi' women fit to be their mithers. An' sae ye see
She knocked a third time, and after a little fumbling with the lock, the door opened a chink, and a ghastly face, bedewed with drops of terror, peeped through. She was standing a little back, and the eyes did not at once find the object they sought; then suddenly they lighted on her, and the laird shook from head to foot. "What is it, Dawtie?" he faltered out in a broken voice.
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