'Deed it wad be waur.' 'What are ye drivin' at, laddie?
I canna unnerstan' ye,' said Mrs.
Falconer, feeling very uncomfortable, and yet curious, almost anxious, to hear what would come next.

'I trust we winna hae to think muckle--' But here, I presume, the thought of the added desolation of her Andrew if she, too, were to forget him, as well as his Father in heaven, checked the flow of her words.

She paused, and Robert took up his parable and went on, first with yet another question.
'Duv ye think, grannie, that a body wad be allooed to speik a word i' public, like, there--at the lang table, like, I mean ?' 'What for no, gin it was dune wi' moedesty, and for a guid rizzon?
But railly, laddie, I doobt ye're haverin' a'thegither.

Ye hard naething like that, I'm sure, the day, frae Mr.Maccleary.' 'Na, na; he said naething aboot it.

But maybe I'll gang and speir at him, though.' 'What aboot ?' 'What I'm gaein' to tell ye, grannie.' 'Weel, tell awa', and hae dune wi' 't.