She eyed him a moment in silence. “Well, Mr. MacDougall,” she said doubtfully, after a pause, “I must confess you’re no beauty.” A look of disappointment came over Souter’s face, seeing which she hastened to reassure him. “But I care not for looks, Mr. MacDougall,” she cried earnestly. “One could get used to you. I’ve heard it said that one can get used to anything in time,” and she smiled sweetly into his downcast face. He gave her a quick look. “Is it as bad as that?” he returned reflectively. “Weel, looks is all a matter of taste. And noo let’s get down to business.” Eppy gave a start and her hands fluttered about nervously, as she waited for his next words. “Do ye think, mum, this sweet, lovely lassie I hae in my mind would hae me for a husband?” he insinuated softly. She gave a little gasp. “This is so sudden,” she simpered, then broke off abruptly—he hadn’t asked her yet. “Er—why don’t you ask the beautiful lassie. She might think of it.” She coyly looked down upon him from under her big bonnet. Souter threw down his pipe in his earnestness. “I will,” he ejaculated quickly, his eyes sparkling with triumph. “’Tis your ain bright sel’ for whom my heart is yearnin’. Will ye hae me, Eppy?” Eppy closed her eyes in blissful content. “My first proposal,” she thought joyfully. Opening her eyes, she gazed at him fondly. “Oh, I don’t want to make a mistake now,” she cried, half frightened, but she had no intention of refusing him, however. “Dinna’ fear,” replied Souter eagerly. “I’ll attend to that; there’ll be no mistake made, I’ll warrant ye.” “You’re such a masterful man,” she exclaimed, with an admiring look, “and—well, there’s no gainsaying you. I must confess a real live man about the house would be most comforting—to my sister, Sibella—and—and me, so I—I’ll have you, Souter,” and she threw herself into his arms with a cry of joy and thankfulness. “Thank ye, thank ye, mum,” said Souter gratefully. “I feel as if I had won the prize ticket in a grand lottery.” He heaved a great sigh of blissful content as he thought of the big house across the way. “There noo, my pipe is out again,” he observed, after a little pause, and he calmly turned his back and proceeded to relight it, leaving Eppy regarding him with reproachful eyes and pouting lips. “Souter,” she finally faltered, “I—I thought you were more romantic. We haven’t sealed our engagement by a—a——” “A—what?” asked Souter concernedly. “Is there something mair to do?” She sidled up to him, giggling bashfully, and after turning to see if they were observed, she put her arm around his neck and said pensively: “Gin a body meet a body comin’ thro’ the rye, Gin a body kiss a body, need a body cry.”