“I ken weel the differ between a leddy and a gilpey. And I dinna need dress to instruct me in it, either, gudeman. I kenned the lass was na gilpey when I saw her in her auld gray cloak; and I kenned her again in the bit glint I had of her bonny face as she lay back in her braw velvets and furs, wi’ her wee bairn by her side. Eh! but I’d like to hear the rights iv that!”
“The rights o’ what, woman?”
“The grand wedding pit aff again; the fine bridegroom ganging aff in a jiffey; this young, bonny leddy and her bairn made so muckle iv by the whole family. But it’s na gude to speer questions. The minister will na speak; the doctor will na speak; the vera serving lads and lasses will na speak, although on ordinary occasions they’re a’ unco fond o’ clackin their clavers. But we shall hear, gude man! we shall hear! Secrets like yon canna be kept, e’en gif they be stappit up in a bottle.”
“Gudewife, ye’ll do weel to gie your attention to your ain proper business and no meddle wi’ that whilk dinna concern you. The auld general pit us here to keep the gate, and no to speer questions into his preevate affairs. And though the situation is na sick a gude ane, it might be waur. Sae we’ll behoove to gie na offence wi’ meddling,” said Andy, as he sat down and opened his big Bible to read.
Meanwhile the Lyon family went on to church, which they entered just as the organ had ceased playing and the minister was opening his book.
It was not until after the last lesson of the morning service was over that the announcement was made:
“All persons having children present for baptism will now bring them forward.”
Our whole party left their pew and proceeded to the front.
General Lyon, as senior sponsor, took the babe in his arms and presented him to the minister. Dick as junior sponsor stood by.
Anna was sole godmother.