‘I’m thinking, gudeman, though ye hae no reason to be pleased with this match Charlie has made for himsel, ye ken, as it canna be helpit noo, we maun just put up wi’t.’ To this observation, which was about one of the most sensible that ever the Leddy o’ Grippy made in her life, Claud replied, with an ill-articulated grumph, that partook more of the sound and nature of a groan than a growl, and she continued,-- ‘But, poor laddie, bare legs need happing; I would fain hope ye’ll no be oure dure;--ye’ll hae to try an there be any moully pennies in the neuk o’ your coffer that can be spar’d and no miss’t.’ ‘I hae thought o’ that, Girzy, my dawty,’ said he somewhat more cordially than he was in the practice of doing to his wife; ‘and we’ll gang o’er the morn and speer for Charlie. I wis he had na been so headstrong; but it’s a’ his ain fault: howsever, it would na be canny to gang toom-handed, and I hae got a bit bill for five score pounds that I’m mindit to gie him.’ ‘Five score pounds, gudeman! that’s the whole tot o’ a hundred. Na, gudeman, I would hae thought the half o’t an unco almous frae you. I hope it’s no a fedam afore death. Gude preserve us! ye’re really ta’en wi’ a fit o’ the liberalities; but Charlie, or am mista’en, will hae need o’t a’, for yon Flanders baby is no for a poor man’s wife. But for a’ that, I’m blithe to think ye’re gaun to be sae kind, though I need na wonder at it, for Charlie was ay your darling chevalier, I’m sure nobody can tell what for, and ye ay lookit down on poor good-natured Watty.’ ‘Haud that senseless tongue o’ thine, Girzy; Watty’s just like the mither o’t, a haverel; and if it were na more for ae thing than anither, the deil a penny would the silly gouk get frae me, aboon an aliment to keep him frae beggary. But what’s ordain’t will come to pass, and it’s no my fault that the sumph Watty was na Charlie. But it’s o’ nae use to contest about the matter; ye’ll be ready betimes the morn’s morning to gang in wi’ me to the town to see the young folks.’ Nothing more then passed, but Claud, somewhat to the surprise of his lady, proposed to make family worship that evening. ‘It’s time now, gudewife,’ said he, ‘when we’re in a way to be made ancestors, that we should be thinking o’ what’s to come o’ our sinful souls hereafter. Cry ben the servants, and I’ll read a chapter to them and you, by way o’ a change, for I kenna what’s about me, but this rash action o’ that thoughtless laddie fashes me, and yet it would na be right o’ me to do any other way than what I’m doing.’