“You’re just an auld fool,” said Drumcarro, “the lassie is as well off as any lassie needs to be. Kirsteen--oh ay, I mind now, ye have always made a pet of Kirsteen. It’s maybe that that has given her her bold tongue and set that spark in her eye.” “Na,” said Marg’ret, “it was just her Maker did that, to make her ane of the first in the land if them she belongs to dinna shut her up in a lonesome glen in a dull hoose. But naebody shall say I’m speaking for Kirsteen alone; there’s your bonny little Jeanie that will just be a beauty. Where she got it I canna tell, ony mair than I can tell where Kirsteen got her grand spirit and yon light in her ee. No from her poor mother, that was a bonny bit thing in her day, but never like that. Jeanie will be just the flower o’ the haill country-side, if ye can ca’ it a country-side that’s a’ howkit out into glens and tangled with thae lochs and hills. If she were in a mair open country there’s no a place from Ayr to Dumfries but would hear of her for her beauty in twa or three years’ time. Ye may say beauty’s but skin deep, and I’m saying nothing to the contrary; but it’s awfu’ pleasant to the sight of men; and I’ll just tell you this, Drumcarro--though it’s maybe no a thing that’s fit for me to say--there’s no a great man in a’ the land that bairn mightna marry if she had justice done her. And maybe that will move ye, if naething else will.” A gleam had come into Drumcarro’s eyes as she spoke, but he answered only by a loud and harsh laugh, leaning back in his chair and opening wide a great cavern of a mouth. “The deil’s in the woman for marrying and giving in marriage!” he said. “A bit lassie in a peenny? It’s a pity the Duke marriet, Marg’ret, but it cannot be mended. If she’s to get a prince he’ll come this way when she’s old enough. We’ll just wait till that time comes.” “The time has come for the rest, if no for her,” said Marg’ret, unexpectedly encouraged by this tone. “And eh? if ye would but think, they’re young things, and youth comes but ance in a lifetime, and ye can never win it back when it’s past. The laddies, bless them, are all away to get their share; the lassies will never get as much, but just a bit triflin’ matter--a white gown to go to a pairty, or a sight of Glasgow, or--” “The woman’s daft!” said the laird. “Glasgow! what will they do there? a white gown! a fiddlestick--what do they want that they haven’t got--plenty of good meat, and a good roof over their heads, and nothing to do for’t but sew their seams and knit their stockings and keep a pleasant tongue in their heads. If ye stir up nonsense among them, I’ll just turn ye bag and baggage out of my house.” “I would advise ye to do that, sir,” said Marg’ret calmly. “I’ll no need a second telling. And ye’ll be sorry but ance for what ye have done, and that’ll be a’ your life.”