“Weel, ae mornin’, verra ear’, she gaed oot intill her gairden, an luikit ower the hedge; an’ what sud she see but this same yoong nobleman tak the bairn frae a puir traivellin’ body, help her ower a dyke, and gie her her bairn again! He was at her ain side in anither meenute, but he was jist that meenute ahint his tryst, an’ she was in a cauld rage at him. He tried to turn her hert, sayin’ --wad she hae had him no help the puir thing ower the dyke, her bairnie bein’ but a fortnicht auld, an’ hersel’ unco weak-like? but my leddy made a mou’ as gien she was scunnert to hear sic things made mention o’. An’ was _she_ to stan’ luikin’ ower the hedge, an’ him convoyin’ a beggar-wife an’ her brat! An’ syne to come to _her_ ohn ever washen his han’s! ‘Hoot, my leddy,’ says he, ‘the puir thing was a human cratur!’--‘Gien she had been a God’s angel,’ says she, ‘ye had no richt to keep me waitin’.’--‘Gien she had been an angel,’ says he, ‘there wad hae been little occasion, but the wuman stude in want o’ help!’--‘Gien ’t had been to save her life, ye sudna hae keepit me waitin’,’ says she. The lad was scaret at that, as weel he micht, an’ takin’ aff ’s bannet, he lowtit laich, an’ left her. But this didna shuit my leddy; she wasna to be left afore she said _gang_! sae she cried him back, an’ he cam, bannet in han’; an’ she leuch, an’ made as gien she had been but tryin’ the smeddum o’ ’im, an’ thoucht him a true k-nicht. The puir fallow pluckit up at this, an’ doon he fell upo’s knees, an’ oot wi’ a’ ’at was in ’s hert,--hoo ’at he lo’ed her mair nor tongue cud tell, an’ gien she wad hae him, he wad be her slave for ever. “‘Ye s’ be that,’ says she, an’ leuch him to scorn. ‘Gang efter yer beggar-wife,’ she says; ‘I’m sick o’ ye.’ “He rase, an’ teuk up ’s bannet, an’ loupit the hedge, an’ gae a blast upo’ ’s horn, an’ gethered his men, an’ steppit aboord his boat, ower by Puffie Heid yonner, an’ awa to Norrowa’ ower the faem, ’an was never hard tell o’ in Scotlan’ again. An’ the leddy was hauchtier, and cairried her heid heicher nor ever--maybe to hide a scaum (_slight mark of burning_) she had taen, for a’ her pride. “Sae things gaed on as afore, till at len’th the tide o’ _her_ time was weel past the turn, an’ a streak o’ the snaw in her coal-black hair. For, as the auld sang says, “Her hair was like the craw, An’ her ble was like the snaw, An’ her bow-bendit lip Was like the rose-hip, An’ her ee was like the licht’nin’, Glorious an’ fricht’nin’. “But a’ that wad sune be ower!