"He won't be desolate even if he doesn't have a thatched roof, a pansy garden, and a blossoming shrub," said Salemina sleepily, for our business arrangements and discussions had lasted well into the evening. "What he will want is a lodging where he can have frequent sight and speech of you. How I dread him! How I resent his sharing of you with us! I don't know why I use the word 'sharing,' forsooth! There is nothing half so fair and just in his majesty's greedy mind. Well, it's the way of the world; only it is odd, with the universe of women to choose from, that he must needs take you. Strathdee seems the most desirable place for him, if he has a mackintosh and rubber boots. Inchcaldy is another town near here that we didn't see at all,--that might do; the draper's wife says that we can send fine linen to the laundry there." "Inchcaldy? Oh yes, I think we heard of it in Edinburgh--at least I have some association with the name: it has a fine golf course, I believe, and very likely we ought to have looked at it, though for my part I have no regrets. Nothing can equal Pettybaw; and I am so pleased to be a Scottish householder! Aren't we just like Bessie Bell and Mary Gray? 'They were twa bonnie lassies; They biggit a bower on yon burnbrae, An' theekit it ower wi' rashes.' Think of our stone-floored kitchen, Salemina! Think of the real box-bed in the wall for little Jane Grieve! She will have red-gold hair, blue eyes, and a pink cotton gown. Think of our own cat! Think how Francesca will admire the 1602 lintel! Think of our back garden, with our own 'neeps' and vegetable marrows growing in it! Think how they will envy us at home when they learn that we have settled down into Scottish yeowomen! 'It's oh, for a patch of land! It's oh, for a patch of land! Of all the blessings tongue can name, There's nane like a patch of land!' Think of Willie coming to step on the floor and look at the bed and stroke the cat and covet the lintel and walk in the garden and weed the turnips and pluck the marrows that grow by our ain wee theekit hoosie!" "Penelope, you appear slightly intoxicated! Do close the window and come to bed." "I am intoxicated with the caller air of Pettybaw," I rejoined, leaning on the window-sill and looking at the stars, while I thought: "Edinburgh was beautiful; it is the most beautiful gray city in the world; it lacked one thing only to make it perfect, and Pettybaw will have that before many moons. 'Oh, Willie's rare an' Willie's fair An' Willie's wondrous bonny; An' Willie's hecht to marry me Gin e'er he marries ony. 'O gentle wind that bloweth south, From where my love repaireth, Convey a word from his dear mouth, An' tell me how he fareth.'" XV