‘Na, we’ll no ask her what _she_ likes. Jamie’s been keepit in again the day. If I was Mr. Galbraith, I’d find some means of making a callant work better than ay keeping him in. Losh, I would think shame to be mastered by a wean! And you, ye muckle haverel, why should I be at a’ the trouble, and Isabel at a’ the expense, keeping ye at the school when ye learn nothing? Laddie, ye’ve nae ambition. If Mary had been the lad and you the lass----’ ‘I wouldna be a lassie to be the Queen,’ said Jamie in indignation. ‘I can do a’ his lessons better than he can,’ cried little Mary; ‘I never was keepit in in my life. I’m ay dux, and he’s booby--!’ ‘Whisht! whisht! and no quarrel,’ said Jean. ‘There’s company at Lochhead, Isabel. Nae doubt that’s the reason Miss Catherine has never been here. But she might have sent for ye when there were young folk about. I’m no meaning a word against you, my bonnie woman; but you were ay a hasty bit thing, and strangers dinna ken the warm heart that’s wi’ it. It’s vexed me, the minister no coming in. You’ve been taking affronts, Isabel, at them; or some of your pridefu’ ways; they were a’ a great deal mair here in the auld time----’ ‘It was for another, and not for me,’ said Isabel, with sudden humiliation. ‘I’m no saying that,’ said Jean; ‘but onyway there’s a change. I have my ain pride, though I’m but a cotter’s daughter myself--and you’ve mair right to it, that are a lady born--but if you’ll no take it amiss, Isabel, a young lass like you shouldna show it to the like of them. They’re no used to it. And though you’ve good blood in your veins, you’re no just the same as Miss Catherine; and it canna be a small thing that’s turned the minister that he wouldna come in.’ ‘There might be other reasons for that,’ said Isabel under her breath. ‘What are ye saying? The man has worshipped the very ground ye trod on since you were little older than Mary,’ said Jean seriously; ‘I’m no saying I understand it for my part. He’s aulder than me--and figure me fashing my head about a young lad! But if he wearies at the last it can only have been your blame.’ ‘I think it would be best not to speak of such things,’ said Isabel, with some heat, ‘before the bairns.’ ‘Maybe you’re right there,’ Jean muttered, after a moment’s pause. And then she resumed, ‘Mary, you’ll get your seam if there’s nae lessons to be learned to-night--unless Isabel gives you some of her poetry--and, Jamie, get you your books. If you’re diligent, maybe Isabel will gie ye a hand. Poor thing!’ she said to herself, as she turned away to put her room in order after the meal, ‘it’s the best thing I can do for her--better than sitting hand idle and no a creature to speak to her. If she were a lass that could go to service, or even that could stir about the house. But her that was never brought up to do anything, and a lady born!’