It was a keen frost, but in the sun the icicles had begun to drop. The roofs in the shadow were covered with hoar frost; wherever there was shadow there was whiteness. But for all the cold, there was keen life in the air, and yet keener life in the two animals, biped and quadruped. As they thus stood, the one trying to sweeten the other’s relation to himself, if he could not hope much for her general temper, a man, who looked half farmer, half lawyer, appeared on the opposite side of the court in the shadow. “You are spoiling that mare, MacPhail,” he cried. “I canna weel du that, sir; she canna be muckle waur,” said the youth. “It’s whip and spur she wants, not sugar.” “She has had, and sall hae baith, time aboot (_in turn_); and I houp they’ll du something for her in time, sir.” “Her time shall be short here, anyhow. She’s not worth the sugar you give her.” “Eh, sir! luik at her,” said Malcolm, in a tone of expostulation, as he stepped back a few paces and regarded her with admiring eyes. “Saw ye ever sic legs? an’ sic a neck? an’ sic a heid? an’ sic fore an’ hin’ quarters? She’s a’ bonny but the temper o’ her, an’ that she canna help like the likes o’ you an’ me.” “She’ll be the death o’ somebody some day. The sooner we get rid of her the better. Just look at that,” he added, as the mare laid back her ears and made a vicious snap at nothing in particular. “She was a favourite o’ my--maister, the marquis,” returned the youth, “an’ I wad ill like to pairt wi’ her.” “I’ll take any offer in reason for her,” said the factor. “You’ll just ride her to Forres market next week, and see what you can get for her. I do think she’s quieter since you took her in hand.” “I’m sure she is--but it winna laist a day. The moment I lea’ her, she’ll be as ill ’s ever,” said the youth. “She has a kin’ o’ a likin’ to me, ’cause I gi’e her sugar, an’ she canna cast me; but she’s no a bit better i’ the hert o’ her yet. She’s an oonsanctifeed brute. I cudna think o’ sellin’ her like this.” “Lat them ’at buys tak tent (_beware_),” said the factor. “Ow ay! lat them; I dinna objec’; gien only they ken what she’s like afore they buy her,” rejoined Malcolm. The factor burst out laughing. To his judgment the youth had spoken like an idiot. “We’ll not send you to sell,” he said. “Stoat shall go with you, and you shall have nothing to do but hold the mare and your own tongue.” “Sir,” said Malcolm, seriously, “ye dinna mean what ye say? Ye said yersel’ she wad be the deith o’ somebody, an’ to sell her ohn tell’t what she’s like wad be to caw the saxt comman’ment clean to shivers.” “That may be good doctrine i’ the kirk, my lad, but it’s pure heresy i’ the horse-market. No, no! You buy a horse as you take a wife-- for better for worse, as the case may be. A woman’s not bound to tell her faults when a man wants to marry her. If she keeps off the worst of them afterwards, it’s all he has a right to look for.”