_Mag._ Angus, I’ll be fair and straight wi’ ee. Thou askest me for my hairt. Why, Angus, thou’rt tall, and fair, and brave. Thou’st a gude, honest face, and a gude, honest hairt, which is mair precious than a’ the gold on earth! No man has a word to say against Angus Macalister--no, nor any woman neither. Thou hast strong arms to work wi’, and a strong hairt to help thee work. And wha am I that I should say that a’ these blessings are not enough for me? If thou, gude, brave, honest man, will be troubled wi’ sic a puir little, humble mousie as Maggie Macfarlane, why, she’ll just be the proudest and happiest lassie in a’ Dumfries! _Ang._ My ain darling! (_They embrace._) _Enter MRS. MACFARLANE from cottage._ _Mrs. Mac._ Why, Angus--Maggie, what’s a’ this! _Ang._ Mistress Macfarlane, dinna be fasht wi’ me; dinna think worse o’ me than I deserve. I’ve loved your lass honestly these fifteen years, but I never plucked up the hairt to tell her so until noo; and when she answered fairly, it wasna in human nature to do aught else but hold her to my hairt and place one kiss on her bonnie cheek. _Mrs. Mac._ Angus, say nae mair. My hairt is sair at losing my only bairn; but I’m nae fasht wi’ ee. Thou’rt a gude lad, and it’s been the hope of my widowed auld heart to see you twain one. Thou’lt treat her kindly--I ken that weel. Thou’rt a prosperous, kirk-going man, and my Mag should be a happy lass indeed. Bless thee, Angus; bless thee! _Ang._ (_wiping his eyes_). Dinna heed the water in my ee--it will come when I’m ower glad. Yes, I’m a fairly prosperous man. What wi’ farmin’ a bit land, and gillieing odd times, and a bit o’ poachin’ now and again; and what wi’ my illicit whusky still--and throwin’ trains off the line, that the poor distracted passengers may come to my cot, I’ve mair ways than one of making an honest living--and I’ll work them a’ nicht and day for my bonnie Meg! _Mrs. Mac._ D’ye ken, Angus, I sometimes think that thou’rt losing some o’ thine auld skill at upsetting railway trains. Thou hast not done sic a thing these sax weeks, and the cottage stands sairly in need of sic chance custom as the poor delayed passengers may bring. _Mag._ Nay, mither, thou wrangest him. Even noo, this very day, has he not placed twa bonnie braw sleepers across the up-line, ready for the express from Glaisgie, which is due in twa minutes or so? _Mrs. Mac._ Gude lad! Gude thoughtfu’ lad! But I hope the unfortunate passengers will na’ be much hurt, puir unconscious bodies! _Ang._ Fear nought, mither. Lang experience has taught me to do my work deftly. The train will run off the line, and the traffic will just be blocked for half a day, but I’ll warrant ye that, wi’ a’ this, nae mon, woman, or child amang them will get sae much as a bruised head or a broken nose. _Mag._ My ain tender-hearted Angus! He wadna hurt sae much as a blatherin’ buzzin’ bluebottle flee!