"Maybe I did," said Johnnie coolly, "an' maybe she would hae made me a decent gudewife if it hadna been for that blithering Sawney Macpherson--the gowk wi' the daft mither--whae yattered her saul oot wi' his skirlin' about her braw looks, an' sae she married him. It wasna a happy foregathering," concluded Mr. Armstrong spitefully, "for Sawney's ower fond o' whusky, an' the meenister had him warned fower times i' the Kirk o' Tabbylugs." "How do you like the Italian girls?" asked the Master, who had been listening with some impatience to Johnnie's long-winded story. "A puir lot, Maister, a puir lot. Feckless things whae warship the Scarlet Wuman wi' gew-gaws an' tinkling ornaments in high places. They're aye yelpin' fra morn till nicht wi' idolatrous processions an' graven images." As these religious views of the godly Johnnie did not interest Otterburn, he proceeded: "What do you think of Miss Sheldon, Johnnie?" "She's nae sae bad." "Oh, nonsense. She's an angel." "Weel, I've seen waur." Johnnie was evidently determined not to commit himself in any way, so Angus spoke straight out. "What would you say if I married her, Johnnie?" "Losh me," ejaculated Armstrong in dismay, "ye'll be clean daft to dae sic a thing. The auld Lord would never forgie ye, Maister. An' Mistress Cranstoun----" "Oh, hang it. I'm not going to marry her," retorted Angus, snatching a necktie from Johnnie's paralysed grasp. "I misdoubt me what the godly Mactab wull spier----" "D-- Mactab." "Hech! just listen tae him," cried Johnnie, with uplifted hands. "The meenister whae brocht him up in the psalms o' David an' led him by mony waters through the paraphrases." "Hold your tongue!" said the Master, stamping his foot. "I didn't ask you to make any remarks." "What's your wull then?" demanded Johnnie sourly. "Do you think there'll be a row if I married her?" "Aye I--that I do." "She's very pretty." "Ye mauna gang like th' Israelites after strange wumen." "She's got plenty of money." This artful remark appealed to Johnnie's strongest passion, and he considered the question. "Weel, I'll nae say but what that micht dae ye some gude," he said cautiously, "but, oh, Maister, it's nae the auld Lord I fear, it's the meenister o' Tabbylugs, as ye weel ken. If ye but get the richt side o' his lug, maybe ye can tac' this dochter o' Belial tae Kirk--if no, I fear me, Maister, there'll be the deil tae pay." Angus made no reply to this speech, as he knew what Johnnie said was perfectly true, so having thus ascertained exactly how his marriage to Victoria would be taken, he rapidly finished his dressing and ran downstairs, leaving his faithful henchman shaking his grizzled head in dour Scotch fashion over the probable anger of Mactab.