“I ken fine,” Isy broke out, with a trembling, yet eager, apologetic voice, “ye’re grudgin me ilka luik at him! I ken’t by mysel! Ye’re thinkin him mair yours nor mine! And weel ye may, for it’s you that’s been motherin him ever since I lost my wits! It’s true I ran awa’ and left him; but ever sin’ syne, I hae soucht him carefully wi’ tears! And ye maunna beir me ony ill will—for there!” she added, holding him out to Maggie! “I haena kissed him yet!—no ance!—But ye wull lat me kiss him afore ye tak him awa’?—my ain bairnie, whause vera comin I had prepared shame for!—Oh my God!—But he kens naething aboot it, and winna ken for years to come! And nane but his ain mammie maun brak the dreid trowth til him!—and by that time he’ll lo’e her weel eneuch to be able to bide it! I thank God that I haena had to shue the birds and the beasts aff o’ his bonny wee body! It micht hae been, but for you, my bonnie lass!—and for you, sir!” she went on, turning to the soutar. Maggie caught the child from her offering arms, and held up his little face for his mother to kiss; and so held him until, for the moment, Isy’s mother-greed was satisfied. Then she sat down with him in her lap, and Isy stood absorbed in regarding him. At last she said, with a deep sigh— “Noo I maun awa’, and I dinna ken hoo I’m to gang! I hae found him and maun leave him!—but I houp no for vera lang!—Maybe ye’ll keep him yet a whilie—say for a week mair? He’s been sae lang disused til a wan’erin life, that I doobt it mayna weel agree wi’ him; and I maun awa’ back to Deemooth, gien I can get onybody to gie me a lift.” “Na, na; that’ll never dee,” returned Maggie, with a sob. “My father’ll be glaid eneuch to keep him; only we hae nae richt ower him, and ye maun hae him again whan ye wull.” “Ye see I hae nae place to tak him til!” pleaded Isy. “Gien ye dinna want him, gie him to me: I want him!” said Maggie eagerly. “Want him!” returned Isy, bursting into tears; “I hae lived but upo the bare houp o’ gettin him again! I hae grutten my een sair for the sicht o’ ’im! Aften hae I waukent greetin ohn kenned for what!—and noo ye tell me I dinna want him, ’cause I hae nae spot but my breist to lay his heid upo! Eh, guid fowk, keep him till I get a place to tak him til, and syne haudna him a meenute frae me!” All this time the soutar had been watching the two girls with a divine look in his black eyes and rugged face; now at last he opened his mouth and said: “Them ’at haps the bairn, are aye sib (_related_) to the mither!—Gang ben the hoose wi’ Maggie, my dear; and lay ye doon on her bed, and she’ll lay the bairnie aside ye, and fess yer brakfast there til ye. Ye winna be easy to sair (_satisfy_), haein had sae little o’ ’im for sae lang!—Lea’ them there thegither, Maggie, my doo,” he went on with infinite tenderness, “and come and gie me a han’ as sune as ye hae maskit the tay, and gotten a lof o’ white breid. I s’ hae my parritch a bit later.”