"Aye, I'm allus talkin' to him about thee."
"That's kind," said Rachel Ffrench. "I dare say he enjoys it. Who is he?"
"Him!" exclaimed Janey. "Dost na tha know him? Him as was at our house th' day yo' coom th' first toime. Him as dragged thee out o' th' engine."
"Oh!" said Miss Ffrench, "the engineer."
"Aye," in a tone of some discomfiture. "He's a engineer, but he is na th' common workin' soart. Granny Dixon says he's getten gentlefolks' ways."
"I should think," remarked Miss Ffrench, "that Mrs. Dixon knew."
"Aye, she's used to gentlefolk. They've takken notice on her i' her young days. She knowed thy grandfeyther."
"She gave me to understand as much," responded Miss Ffrench, smiling at the recollection this brought to her mind.
"Yo' see mother an' me thinks a deal o' Mester Murdoch, because he is na one o' th' drinkin' soart," proceeded Janey. "He's th' steady koind as is fond o' books an' th' loike. He does na mak' much at his trade, but he knows more than yo'd think for, to look at him."
"That is good news," said Miss Ffrench, cheerfully.