“Laird,” she said, “ye’re in trouble, for ye’re sittin’ double, an’ castna a leuk upo’ yer buik. Gien ye wad lat a body speyk ’at kens naething, ’cep’ ’at oot o’ the moo’ o’ babes an’ sucklin’s--an’ troth I’m naither babe nor sucklin’ this mony a lang, but I’m a muckle eneuch gowk to be ane o’ the Lord’s innocents, an’ hae him perfec’ praise oot o’ the moo’ o’ me!--” She paused a moment, feeling it was time the laird should say something--which immediately he did. “Say awa’, Grizzie,” he answered; “I’m hearin’ ye. There’s nane has a better richt to say her say i’ this hoose; what ither hae ye to say ’t intil!” “I hae _no_ richt,” retorted Grizzie, almost angrily, “but what ye alloo me, laird; and I wadna wuss the Lord to gie me ony mair. But whan I see ye in tribble--eh, mony’s the time I haud my tongue till my hert’s that grit it’s jist swallin’ in blobs an’ blawin’ like the parritch whan its dune makin’, afore tak it frae the fire! for I hae naething to say, an’ naither coonsel nor help intil me. But last nicht, whan I leukit na for ’t, there cam a thoucht intil my heid, an’ seein’ it was a stranger, I bad it walcome. It micht hae come til a far wysser heid nor mine, but seein’ it did come to mine, it wad luik as gien the Lord micht hae pitten’ t’ there--to the comfort an’ consolation o’ ane, ’at, gien she be a gowk, is muckle the same as the Lord made her wi’ ’s ain bliss-it han’. Sae, quo’ I, I s’ jist submit the thing to the laird. He’ll sune discern whether it be frae the Lord or mysel’!” “Say on, Grizzie,” returned the laird, when again she paused. “It sud surprise nane to get a message frae the Lord by the mou’ o’ ane o’ his handmaidens.” “Weel, it’s this, laird.--I hae often been i’ the gran’ drawin’ room, when ye wad be lattin’ the yoong laird, or somebody or anither ye wantit to be special til, see the bonny things ye hae sic a fouth o’ i’ the caibnets again the wa’s; an’ I hae aye h’ard ye say o’ ane o’ them--yon bonny little horsie, ye ken, ’at they say the auld captain, ’at’s no laid yet, gied to yer gran’father--I hae aye h’ard ye say o’ that, ’at hoo it was solid siller--‘_said to be_,’ ye wad aye tack to the tail o’ ’t.” “True! true!” said the laird, a hopeful gleam beginning to break upon his darkness. “Well, ye see, laird,” Grizzie went on, “I’m no sic a born idiot as think ye wad set the possession o’ sic a playock again’ the yoong laird’s edication; sae ye maun hae some rizzon for no meltin’ ’t doon--seein’ siller maun aye be worth siller,--an’ gowd, gien there be eneuch o’ ’t. Sae, like the minister, I come to the conclusion--But I hae yer leave, laird, to speyk?” “Gang on, gang on, Grizzie,” said the laird, almost eagerly.