The fire cheers the heart," said the old lady.
"But you don't need it for that, Mrs.McNish," said her visitor, smiling at the strong, serene face under the white frilled cap.
"Do I not then?
An' what aboot yersel' ?" The keen grey eye searched his face.

Maitland was immediately conscious of a vast dreariness in his life.

He sat silent looking into the blazing fire.
"Ay," continued the old lady, "but there are the bright spots tae, an' it's ill tae glower at a cauld hearth stone." Maitland glanced quickly at the shrewd and kindly face.

What did she know about him and his life and his "cauld hearth stone"?
So he said nothing but waited.

Suddenly she swerved to another theme.
"Malcolm," she said, "have ye secured the tickets for the match ?" "Aw, mither, now it is the terrible auld sport ye are.