"There's nae understandin' a woman. There's Jess 'at hasna her equal for cleverness in Thrums, man or woman, an' yet she's fair skeered about thae cloaks. Aince a woman sets her mind on something to wear, she's mair onreasonable than the stupidest man. Ay, it micht mak them humble to see hoo foolish they are syne. No, but it doesna do't. "If it was a thing to be useful noo, I wouldna think the same o't, but she could never wear't. She kens she could never wear't, an' yet she's juist as keen to hae't. "I dinna like to see her so wantin' a thing, an' no able to get it. But it's an awfu' sum, eleven an' a bit." He tried to argue with her further. "If ye had eleven an' a bit to fling awa," he said, "ye dinna mean to tell me 'at ye would buy a cloak instead o' cloth for a gown, or flannel for petticoats, or some useful thing?" "As sure as death," said Jess, with unwonted vehemence, "if a cloak I could get, a cloak I would buy." Hendry came up to tell me what Jess had said. "It's a michty infatooation," he said, "but it shows hoo her heart's set on thae cloaks." "Aince ye had it," he argued with her, "ye would juist hae to lock it awa in the drawers. Ye would never even be seein' 't." "Ay, would I," said Jess. "I would often tak it oot an' look at it. Ay, an' I would aye ken it was there." "But naebody would ken ye had it but yersel," said Hendry, who had a vague notion that this was a telling objection. "Would they no?" answered Jess. "It would be a' through the toon afore nicht." "Weel, all I can say," said Hendry, "is 'at ye're terrible foolish to tak the want o' sic a useless thing to heart." "Am no takkin' 't to heart," retorted Jess, as usual. Jess needed many things in her days that poverty kept from her to the end, and the cloak was merely a luxury. She would soon have let it slip by as something unattainable had not Hendry encouraged it to rankle in her mind. I cannot say when he first determined that Jess should have a cloak, come the money as it liked, for he was too ashamed of his weakness to admit his project to me. I remember, however, his saying to Jess one day: "I'll warrant you could mak a cloak yersel the marrows o' thae eleven and a bits, at half the price?" "It would cost," said Jess, "sax an' saxpence, exactly. The cloth would be five shillins, an' the beads a shillin'. I have some braid 'at would do fine for the front, but the buttons would be sax-pence." "Ye're sure o' that?" "I ken fine, for I got Leeby to price the things in the shop." "Ay, but it maun be ill to shape the cloaks richt. There was a queer cut aboot that ane Peter Dickie's new wife had on." "Queer cut or no queer cut," said Jess, "I took the shape o' My Hobart's ane the day she was here at her tea, an' I could mak the identical o't for sax and sax."