“Woman, woman!” said the housekeeper, bitterly, “have ye nae memory o’ being ance young yoursel’, and maybe having troubles in your ain heart that wadna bear telling? but I needna speak to you.” “Na, I reckon no,” said Janet. “Me! I wad just like to hear onybody say that I ever had a trouble a’ my born days that mightna hae been visible to the haill world if it likit.” “And that just shows how little ye ken about it,” said Mrs Mense; “if ye ever had a heart ava, it maun hae grown to bane twenty year ago. Are ye gaun to iron thae bits o’ laces for the young lady or are ye no’?--for if ye’re no’, I’ll do’t mysel’--” “The young lady--set her up!” said the housekeeper _de facto_. “Muckle right she has to the auld Lady Mossgray’s guid lace. He’ll be gieing her the land next; there’s nae fuils like auld fuils.” “Janet Mense,” said the old woman, “ye hae eaten the Laird’s bread mony a year, and I hae suffered ye in the house, for a’ your ill tongue, and for a’ sae little worth as ye are; but if ye daur to say anither word against Mr Adam, I’ll take ye by the shouthers and put ye forth from this door. I’ll do it with my ain hands; sae ye ken.” Janet judged it prudent to sound a retreat. She began to spread the lace upon the table, preparatory to the process of ironing. “The wife’s in a creel,” said Robbie Carlyle the fisherman, entering with his basket of flounders, thinly covered with a few grilse. “Wha’s she gaun to pit to the door? If it’s Effie, I’ll hae nae mair dealings wi’ ye, Mrs Mense; for Effie’s Jamie Caryl’s daughter, and Jamie’s my second cousin; sae we’ll be to ’gree again.” “And wha’ll tire sunest o’ that, Robbie, my man?” said the housekeeper. “Faith, I dinna ken,” said the bold fisherman, “there’s waur folk nor me, guid wife; and if I missed your custom, ye wad miss my ca’, ye ken; for I’m guid company--especially when I bring the cuddie.” “I would like to ken, Robbie Caryl,” said Janet, “what the like o’ you has to do wi’ a cuddie.” “The like o’ me! Ye’re a sensible woman, Jen, but ye dinna ken a’thing; it’s no to be expected. I ken few that does, by mysel’, and Mossgray, and the minister; the like o’ me! as if I wasna as ’sponsible a man as there is in the parish, and as weel entitled to hae ease to my shouthers! There’s thristles and dockens enow aboon tidemark to mainteen a dizzen cuddies, and he taks nae cleeding, puir beast; he’s cheaper than a wean.” “Eh, Robbie!” said Mrs Mense, reproachfully, “to even the bits of innocent bairns to a brute beast!”