“Eh, mem!” returned Malcolm, perceiving by the flash of her eyes and the sudden halt of her speech that she was really indignant-- “I dinna ken what I hae said to anger ye!” “Anger me! quo’ he? What though I hae nae feelin’s! Will he daur till imaigine ’at he wad be sittin’ there, an’ me haudin’ him company, gien I believed him cawpable o’ turnin’ oot sic a meeserable, contemptible wratch! The Lord come atween me an’ my wrath!” “I beg yer pardon, mem. A body canna aye put things thegither afore he speyks. I’m richt sair obleeged till ye for takin’ my pairt.” “I tak naebody’s pairt but my ain, laddie. Obleeged to me for haein’ a wheen common sense--a thing ’at I was born wi’! Toots! Dinna haiver.” “Weel, mem, what wad ye hae me du? I canna sen’ my auld daddie roon the toon wi’ his pipes, to procleem ’at I’m no the man. I’m thinkin’ I’ll hae to lea’ the place.” “Wad ye sen’ yer daddy roun’ wi’ the pipes to say ’at ye _was_ the man? Ye micht as weel du the tane as the tither. Mony a better man has been waur misca’d, an’ gart fowk forget that ever the lee was lee’d. Na, na; never rin frae a lee. An’ never say, naither, ’at ye didna du the thing, ’cept it be laid straucht to yer face. Lat a lee lie i’ the dirt. Gien ye pike it up, the dirt’ll stick till ye, though ye fling the lee ower the dyke at the warl’s en’. Na, na! Lat a lee lie, as ye wad the deevil’s tail ’at the laird’s Jock took aff wi’ the edge o’ ’s spaud.” “A’ thing’s agane me the noo!” sighed Malcolm. “Auld Jobb ower again!” returned Miss Horn almost sarcastically. “The deil had the warst o’ ’t though, an’ wull hae, i’ the lang hinner en’. Meanwhile ye maun face him. There’s nae airmour for the back aither i’ the Bible or i’ the Pilgrim’s Progress.” “What wad ye hae me du, than, mem?” “Du? Wha said ye was to du onything? The best duin’ whiles is to bide still. Lat ye the jaw (_wave_) gae ower ohn joukit (_without ducking_).” “Gien I binna to du onything, I maist wuss I hadna kent,” said Malcolm, whose honourable nature writhed under the imputed vileness. “It’s aye better to ken in what licht ye stan’ wi’ ither fowk. It hauds ye ohn lippent ower muckle, an’ sae dune things or made remarks ’at wad be misread till ye. Ye maun haud an open ro’d, ’at the trowth whan it comes oot may have free coorse. The ae thing ’at spites me is, ’at the verra fowk ’at was the first to spread yer ill report, ’ill be the first to wuss ye weel whan the trowth’s kent--ay, an they’ll persuaud their verra sel’s ’at they stuck up for ye like born brithers.” “There _maun_ be some jeedgement upo’ leein’!” “The warst wuss I hae agane ony sic back-biter is that he may live to be affrontit at himsel’. Efter that he’ll be guid eneuch company for me. Gang yer wa’s, laddie; say yer prayers, an’ haud up yer heid. Wha wadna raither be accused o’ a’ the sins o’ the comman’ments nor be guilty o’ ane o’ them?” Malcolm did hold up his head as he walked away.