“Mony thanks to ye, Mr. Patrick, ye’re kend to a’ the country for a kind heart. It will do the auld wife’s heart gude--mair by token, when she kens it comes frae you--and maist of a’ gin ye’ll come up and take your share, for I reckon ye are lonesome now in the auld tower, and a’ your folk at that weary Edinburgh. I wonder what they can find to do amang a wheen ranks o’ stane-houses wi’ slate on the tap o’ them, that might live on their ain bonny green hills.” “My education and my sisters’ has kept my mother much in Edinburgh for several years,” said Earnscliff; “but I promise you I propose to make up for lost time.” “And ye’ll rig out the auld tower a bit,” said Hobbie, “and live hearty and neighbour-like wi’ the auld family friends, as the Laird o’ Earnscliff should? I can tell ye, my mother--my grandmother I mean--but, since we lost our ain mother, we ca’ her sometimes the tane, and sometimes the tother--but, ony gate, she conceits hersell no that distant connected wi’ you.” “Very true, Hobbie, and I will come to the Heugh-foot to dinner to-morrow with all my heart.” “Weel, that’s kindly said! We are auld neighbours, an we were nae kin--and my gude-dame’s fain to see you--she clavers about your father that was killed lang syne.” “Hush, hush, Hobbie--not a word about that--it’s a story better forgotten.” “I dinna ken--if it had chanced amang our folk, we wad hae keepit it in mind mony a day till we got some mends for’t--but ye ken your ain ways best, you lairds--I have heard say that Ellieslaw’s friend stickit your sire after the laird himsell had mastered his sword.” “Fie, fie, Hobbie; it was a foolish brawl, occasioned by wine and politics--many swords were drawn--it is impossible to say who struck the blow.” “At ony rate, auld Ellieslaw was aiding and abetting; and I am sure if ye were sae disposed as to take amends on him, naebody could say it was wrang, for your father’s blood is beneath his nails--and besides there’s naebody else left that was concerned to take amends upon, and he’s a prelatist and a jacobite into the bargain--I can tell ye the country folk look for something atween ye.” “O for shame, Hobbie!” replied the young Laird; “you, that profess religion, to stir your friend up to break the law, and take vengeance at his own hand, and in such a bogilly bit too, where we know not what beings may be listening to us!” “Hush, hush!” said Hobbie, drawing nearer to his companion, “I was nae thinking o’ the like o’ them--But I can guess a wee bit what keeps your hand up, Mr. Patrick; we a’ ken it’s no lack o’ courage, but the twa grey een of a bonny lass, Miss Isabel Vere, that keeps you sae sober.” “I assure you, Hobbie,” said his companion, rather angrily, “I assure you you are mistaken; and it is extremely wrong of you, either to think of, or to utter, such an idea; I have no idea of permitting freedoms to be carried so far as to connect my name with that of any young lady.”