‘That wudna hae been sae weel contrived, I doobt!’ remarked Kirsty. ‘There wudna hae been the variety, I’m thinkin!’ ‘Ye’re richt there, lass!--But what’s this aboot Francie?’ ‘Ow naething, father, worth mentionin! The daft loon wud hae hed me promise to merry him--that’s a’!’ ‘The Lord preserve’s!--Aff han’?’ ‘There’s no tellin what micht hae been i’ the heid o’ ’im: he didna win sae far as to say that onygait!’ ‘God forbid!’ exclaimed her father with solemnity, after a short pause. ‘I’m thinkin God’s forbidden langsyne!’ rejoined Kirsty. ‘What said ye til ’im, lassie?’ ‘First I leuch at him--as weel as I can min’ the nonsense o’ ’t--and ca’d him the gowk he was; and syne I sent him awa wi’ a flee in ’s lug: hadna he the impidence to fa’ oot upo’ me for carin mair aboot Steenie nor the likes o’ him! As gien ever _he_ cud come ’ithin sicht o’ Steenie!’ Her father looked very grave. ‘Are ye no pleased, father? I did what I thoucht richt.’ ‘Ye cudna hae dune better, Kirsty. But I’m sorry for the callan, for eh but I loed his father! Lassie, for his father’s sake I cud tak Francie intil the hoose, and work for him as for you and Steenie--though it’s little guid Steenie ever gets o’ me, puir sowl!’ ‘Dinna say that, father. It wud be an ill thing for Steenie to hae onybody but yersel to the father o’ ’im! A muckle pairt o’ the nicht he wins ower in loein at you and his mother.’ ‘And yersel, Kirsty.’ ‘I’m thinkin I hae my share i’ the daytime.’ ‘And hoo, think ye, gangs the lave o’ the nicht wi’ ’im?’ ‘The bonny man has the maist o’ ’t, I dinna doobt, and what better cud we desire for ’im!--But, father, gien Francie come back wi’ the same tale--I dinna think he wull efter what I telled him, but he may--what wud ye hae me say til ’im?’ ‘Say what ye wull, lassie, sae lang as ye dinna lat him for a moment believe there’s a grain o’ possibility i’ the thing. Ye see, Kirsty,--’ ‘Ye dinna imagine, father, I cud for ae minute think itherwise aboot it nor ye du yersel! Div I no ken ’at his father gied him in chairge to you? and haena I therefore to luik efter him? Didna ye tell me a’ aboot yer gran’ freen’, and hoo, and hoo lang ye had loed him? and didna that mak Francie my business as weel’s yer ain? I’m verra sure his father wud never appruv o’ ony gaeins on atween him and a lassie sic like’s mysel; and fearna ye, father, but I s’ haud him weel ootby. No that it’s ony tyauve (_struggle_) to me, though I aye likit Francie! Haena I my ain Steenie?’ ‘Glaidly wud I shaw Francie the ro’d to sic a wife as ye wud mak him, my bonny Kirsty! But ye see clearly the thing itsel’s no to be thoucht upon.--Eh, Kirsty, but it’s gran’ to an auld father’s hert to hear ye tak yer pairt in his devours efter sic a wumanly fashion!’