Joseph sat and listened with a lengthening visage, and his finger in his mouth. He felt very foolish. A scandal would ruin him in Glen Effick, and after the scene of the morning he had nothing to hope from the good opinion of his whilom patroness Mrs. Sangster, or his late sweetheart Jean Macaulay. He would become the common talk, and no girl worth anything would have a word to say to him. He felt like some gay butterfly caught by the heel in a cobweb of gossamer. Why flutter his pretty wings any more? They would only get broken for nothing. He would never fly again! The admiring flowers would spread their rosy bosoms all in vain, and breathe their fragrant sighs. Poor, poor Lothario! His day was done. He was caught at last. And there like a dreadful spider sat Tibbie, his (to be) mother-in-law, regarding him with red-rimmed eyes, and opening her mouth to devour--well, if not him, at least his bacon. As he looked, she selected another tempting slice (it was cooling now), and her jaws closed on it with a snap, followed by a snort of relish. 'Aweel, Tibbie! Ye can gang hame for the nicht, you an' yer dochter. I wad like to think ower't, an' sleep on't.' 'Fient a stap her or me sall gang out ower yer door, Joseph Smiley, afore Sawbith! We micht na get in sae chancey next time. O' Sawbith she'll gang linket wi' ye t'ey Kirk, an' I'se walk ahint ye, carryin' yer bairn. Sae ye maun speak t'ey minister the morn, an' speir him to baptise't. An' sae ye'll can explain a' thing t'ey minister yersel', afore they hae time to raise clashes. Ye can juist tell the tale about Jess Clapperton, 'at ye made a fule o' puir Tib wi'. I wad na say but it micht do for the minister very weel, an' _ye_ ken hoo to put legs an' arms til't as weel as the next ane. Ye was ne'er at a loss for a lee in yer life, Josey, my man, I'm thinkin'! Losh keep me! I'm thinkin' I've begood to like ye a'ready! It'll be yer ain fau't gin I be na the _gude_ mither to ye, forby the gude-_mither_. Set ye doon noo, an' tak yer supper. I'm fear'd it's cauld for ye, an' ye'll hae to drink yer tea wantin' the milk. Wee Josey drank that a while syne. It's a' e'y family! An' syne, I'm fear'd ye'll hae to sleep e'y fluir for the nicht; for me an' the bairn's gaun in aside Tibbie.' Joseph groaned in spirit, and ate his supper in silent despair. Not one kick of resistance was left in his miserable soul, and he submitted to his fate as meekly as Sindbad, after some experience of the old man of the sea, found it best to do. Tibbie devoted her attention to the entertainment of the young heir, who seemed to enjoy his return to the paternal hall, and rode on her knee crowing in the highest spirits, to the enlivening strains of-- 'Wooed sn' married an' a',' which his grandam lilted to him, with just a suspicion of malice in her humorous triumph. CHAPTER XXXV. _FOUND_.