_Ch._ Oh, I beg your pardon. I didn’t see you. These ladies are--are my washerwomen. Allow me to introduce them. They have come--they have come for their small account. (_MAGGIE, who has been sobbing through this, throws herself hysterically on to CHEVIOT’S bosom._) There’s a discrepancy in the items--twenty-two flannel waistcoats are ridiculous, and, in short, some washerwomen are like this when they’re contradicted--they can’t help it--it’s something in the suds: it undermines their constitution. _Sym._ (_sternly_). Cheviot, I should like to believe you, but it seems scarcely credible. _Mag._ Oh, sir, he’s na telling ye truly. I’m the puir Lowland lassie that he stole the hairt out of, three months ago, and promised to marry; and I love him sae weel--sae weel, and now he’s married to anither! _Ch._ Nothing of the kind. I-- _Sym._ You are mistaken, and so is your mith--mother. He is not yet married to anith--nother. _Mag._ Why, sir, it took place before my very ain eyes, before us a’, to a beautiful lady, three months since. _Min._ Cheviot, say that this is not true. Say that the beautiful lady was somebody--for instance, your aunt. Oh, say she was your aunt, I implore you! _Sym._ (_sternly_). Cheviot, say she was your aunt, I command you! _Ch._ Minnie, Symperson, don’t believe them--it was no marriage. I don’t even know the lady’s name--I never saw her before--I’ve never seen her since. It’s ridiculous--I couldn’t have married her without knowing it--it’s out of the question! _Sym._ Cheviot, let’s know exactly where we are. I don’t much care whom you marry, so that you marry someone--that’s enough for me. But please be explicit, for this is business, and mustn’t be trifled with. Tell me all about it. _Ch._ (_in despair_). I cannot! _Enter BELVAWNEY._ _Bel._ I can. _Sym._ Belvawney! _Bel._ I was present when Cheviot and a certain lady declared themselves to be man and wife. This took place in a cottage on the Border--in the presence of these worthy people. _Sym._ That’s enough for me. It’s a Scotch marriage! Minnie, my child, we must find you someone else. Cheviot’s married. Belvawney, I am sorry to say, I deprive you of your income. _Bel._ I beg your pardon, not yet. _Sym._ Why not? _Bel._ In the first place, it’s not certain whether the cottage was in England or in Scotland; in the second place, the bride can’t be found. _Sym._ But she _shall_ be found. What is her name? _Bel._ That I decline to state. _Sym._ But you shall be made to state. I insist upon knowing the young lady’s name. _Enter MISS TREHERNE, in a light and cheerful dress._ _Bel._ (_amazed_). Belinda Treherne! _Miss T._ (_rushing to MINNIE_). Minnie, my own old friend! _Ch._ ’Tis she! _Miss T._ (_turns and recognizes CHEVIOT_). My husband! _Ch._ My wife! [_MISS T. throws herself at CHEVIOT’S feet, kissing his hands rapturously. BELVAWNEY staggers back. MINNIE faints in her father’s arms. MAGGIE sobs on ANGUS’S breast._ ACT III.