"Aye," added Jean, "and syne ye'll get the farm when her father dies. He's troubled wi' the rheumatics and he'll no live very long. And she wud be a gran worker too."
"Dinna haver, Jean," said Annie scornfully, "the Mester will want a gran lady for his wife, one that can play the piano and have ham and egg to her breakfast ilka morning."
"No extravagant wife like that for me!" I protested.
"Aweel, an egg ilka day and ham and egg on Sundays onywye," compromised Annie.
"An egg every second morning, Annie," I said firmly, "and ham and egg every second Sunday."
"Ladies dinna mak good wives," said Janet. "Willie Macintosh along at Rinsley married a lassie that was a piano teacher, and she gets her breakfast in her bed and has a wumman to wash up. Aye, and she's ay dressed and oot after dinnertime. Aye, and she sends a' his collars to the laundry ... and he only wears a clean dicky on Sawbath."
"Ah!" I said, "I'm glad you told me that, Janet; I won't risk marrying a lady. But tell me, Janet, how am I to know what sort of woman I am marrying?"
"It's quite easy," she said slowly, "you just have to tear a button off your waistcoat and if she doesna offer to mend it ye shouldna tak her."
"And speer at her what time she gets up in the mornin'," she added; "Maggie Tamson rises at five ilka mornin'."
"Why are you so anxious that it should be Margaret?" I asked with real curiosity.