‘What have you heard?’ cried he, burning with wrath and indignation. ‘The callan’s gaun aff at the head, to look at me as if his e’en were pistols--How dare ye, sir?--But it’s no worth my while to lose my temper wi’ a creature that doesna ken the homage and honour due to his aged grandmother. Howsever, I’ll be as plain as I’m pleasant wi’ you, my man; and if there’s no an end soon put to your pastoraulity wi’ yon Highland heron, and a sedate and dutiful compliancy vouchsafed to your benefactor, uncle George, there will be news in the land or lang.’ ‘You really place the motives of my uncle’s conduct towards me in a strange light, and you forget that Robina is perhaps as strongly averse to the connection as I am.’ ‘So she would fain try to gar me true,’ replied the Leddy; ‘the whilk is a most mystical thing; but, poor lassie, I needna be surprised at it, when she jealouses that your affections are set on a loup-the-dyke Jenny Cameron like Nell Frizel. Howsever, Jamie, no to make a confabble about the matter, there can be no doubt if ye’ll sing “We’ll gang nae mair to yon toun,” wi’ your back to the manse o’ Camrachle, that Beenie, who is a most sweet-tempered and obedient fine lassie, will soon be wrought into a spirit of conformity wi’ her father’s will and my wishes.’ ‘I cannot but say,’ replied Walkinshaw, ‘that you consider affection as very pliant. Nor do I know why you take such liberties with Miss Frazer; who, in every respect, is infinitely superior to Robina.’ ‘Her superior!’ cried the Leddy; ‘but love’s blin’ as well as fey, or ye would as soon think o’ likening a yird tead to a patrick or a turtle-dove, as Nell Frizel to Beenie Walkinshaw. Eh man! Jamie, but ye hae a poor taste; and I may say, as the auld sang sings, “Will ye compare a docken till a tansie?” I would na touch her wi’ the tangs.’ ‘But you know,’ said Walkinshaw, laughing at the excess of her contempt, ‘that there is no accounting for tastes.’ ‘The craw thinks it’s ain bird the whitest,’ replied the Leddy; ‘but, for a’ that, it’s as black as the back o’ the bress; and, therefore, I would advise you to believe me, that Nell Frizel is just as ill-far’t a creature as e’er came out the Maker’s hand. I hae lived threescore and fifteen years in the world, and surely, in the course o’ nature, should ken by this time what beauty is and ought to be.’