It's maybe the end of their dinner they'll be wantin'.
Sir Paitrick cam' in at the fair beginning of it, and spoilt the collops, like the dour deevil he is!" The bell rang for the third time.
"Ay! ay! ring awa'! I doot yon young gentleman's little better than a belly-god--there's a scandalous haste to comfort the carnal part o' him in a' this ringin'! He knows naething o' wine," added Mr.Bishopriggs, on whose mind Arnold's discovery of the watered sherry still dwelt unpleasantly.
The lightning quickened, and lit the sitting-room horribly with its lurid glare; the thunder rolled nearer and nearer over the black gulf of the moor.

Arnold had just raised his hand to ring for the fourth time, when the inevitable knock was heard at the door.

It was useless to say "come in." The immutable laws of Bishopriggs had decided that a second knock was necessary.

Storm or no storm, the second knock came--and then, and not till then, the sage appeared, with the dish of untasted "collops" in his hand.
"Candles!" said Arnold.
Mr.Bishopriggs set the "collops" (in the language of England, minced meat) upon the table, lit the candles on the mantle-piece, faced about with the fire of recent toddy flaming in his nose, and waited for further orders, before he went back to his second glass.

Anne declined to return to the dinner.