'For God's sake, say 'at yer leein'!' he cried. 'I wish I war leein',' returned Robert. The soutar uttered a terrible oath, and swore-- 'I'll murder the auld--.' The epithet he ended with is too ugly to write. 'Daur to say sic a word in ae breath wi' my grannie,' cried Robert, snatching up the lapstone, 'an' I'll brain ye upo' yer ain shop-flure.' Sandy threw the knife on his stool, and sat down beside it. Robert dropped the lapstone. Sandy took it up and burst into tears, which before they were half down his face, turned into tar with the blackness of the same. 'I'm an awfu' sinner,' he said, 'and vengeance has owerta'en me. Gang oot o' my chop! I wasna worthy o' her. Gang oot, I say, or I'll kill ye.' Robert went. Close by the door he met Miss St. John. He pulled off his cap, and would have passed her. But she stopped him. 'I am going for a walk a little way,' she said. 'Will you go with me?' She had come out in the hope of finding him, for she had seen him go up the street. 'That I wull,' returned Robert, and they walked on together. When they were beyond the last house, Miss St. John said, 'Would you like to play on the piano, Robert?' 'Eh, mem!' said Robert, with a deep suspiration. Then, after a pause: 'But duv ye think I cud?' 'There's no fear of that. Let me see your hands.' 'They're some black, I doobt, mem,' he remarked, rubbing them hard upon his trowsers before he showed them; 'for I was amaist cawin' oot the brains o' Dooble Sanny wi' his ain lapstane. He's an ill-tongued chield. But eh! mem, ye suld hear him play upo' the fiddle! He's greitin' his een oot e'en noo for the bonnie leddy.' Not discouraged by her inspection of his hands, black as they were, Miss St. John continued, 'But what would your grandmother say?' she asked. 'She maun ken naething aboot it, mem. I can-not tell her a'thing. She wad greit an' pray awfu', an' lock me up, I daursay. Ye see, she thinks a' kin' o' music 'cep' psalm-singin' comes o' the deevil himsel'. An' I canna believe that. For aye whan I see onything by ordinar bonnie, sic like as the mune was last nicht, it aye gars me greit for my brunt fiddle.' 'Well, you must come to me every day for half-an-hour at least, and I will give you a lesson on my piano. But you can't learn by that. And my aunt could never bear to hear you practising. So I'll tell you what you must do. I have a small piano in my own room. Do you know there is a door from your house into my room?' 'Ay,' said Robert. 'That hoose was my father's afore your uncle bought it. My father biggit it.' 'Is it long since your father died?' 'I dinna ken.' 'Where did he die?' 'I dinna ken.' 'Do you remember it?' 'No, mem.'