"Mona Maclean," corrected the owner of the name. Auntie Bell gripped her hand and studied her face with as little regard to her feelings as if she had been a horse or a cow, the furrow on her own brow deepening the while. "Eh, but she's like her faither," she said. "The mooth an' the chin----" "Yes," said Rachel shortly. The subject of Mona's father was not a congenial one. "What w'y are ye no' mairrit yet?" continued Auntie Bell severely, still maintaining her grasp of Mona's hand. "'Advanced women don't marry, sir, she said,'" were the first words that passed through Mona's mind, but she paraphrased them. "We don't marry now," she said. "It's gone out of fashion." The muscles of Auntie Bell's face relaxed. "Hoot awa'," she said. "Wait ye till a braw young man comes alang----" "You will dance at my wedding then, won't you?" "That will I!" and Auntie Bell executed a momentary _pas seul_ on the spot. She stopped abruptly and drew down her brows with all her former gravity. "I hope ye're cliver," she said. "Thank you. As folks go nowadays, I think I am pretty fair." "Ye had need be, wi' a faither like yon." "Ah," said Mona with sudden gravity, "I was not thinking of him. I am not clever as he was." "Na, na, I was thinkin' that. He was"--this with great emphasis--"as fine a mon as iver I saw." "But did you know him? I did not know that he was ever in this part of the country." "Ay was he! He cam' ae day, it may be five-an'-twinty year syne--afore there was ony word o' you, maybe. He was keen to see the hoose whaur his faither was born, and we'd a crack aboot the auld folks, him and me. Rachel Simpson was at Dundee than. My word! ye'd hae thocht I'd been the finest leddy at the Towers. But come awa' ben, an' I'll mask the tea." "Ye'll find the place in an awfu' disorder," she went on to Rachel as they entered the spotless parlour. "I'm that hadden doon o' the hairvest, I've no' got my back strauchten'd up sin' it commenced;" and she bustled in and out of the kitchen getting the tea. "You don't let the girls do enough," said Rachel. "The lassies! Hoot awa'. I canna bide their slatternly w'ys i' the hoose. I'm best pleased when they're oot-bye." "You havena been to see me for many a long day." "Me! I've no' been onywhere; I've no' seen onybody. I've no' been to the kirk sin' I canna tell ye whan. What w'y would I? The folk wad a' be lauchin' at daft auld Auntie Bell wi' her bent back. The meenister was here seein' me. He cam' that day o' the awfu' rain, his umberella wrang side oot, an' his face blue wi' the cauld--ye ken what a thin, feckless body he is. 'Come awa', ye puir cratur,' says I, 'come awa' ben tae the fire.' An' he draws himsel' up, an' says he, 'Why say, poor creature?'--like that, ye ken--'why say, poor creature?'" And Auntie Bell clapped her hand on her knee, and laughed at the recollection.