Annie, who was up-stairs in her own room, immediately appeared.
"Annie," he said, "rin oot at the back door, and through the yard, and ower to Laurie Lumley's, and tell him to come ower to me direckly. Dinna come back withoot him. There's a guid bairn!"
He sent her upon this message, knowing well enough that the man had gone into the country that day, and that there was no one at his house who would be likely to know where he had gone. He hoped, therefore, that she would go and look for him in the town, and so be absent during her aunt's visit.
"Weel, Marget," he said, with his customary greeting, in which the foreign oil sought to overcome the home-bred vinegar, "hoo are ye the day?"
"Ow! nae that ill," answered Marget with a sigh.
"And hoo's Mr and Mistress Peterson?"
"Brawly. Hoo's Annie comin' on?"
"Nae that ill. She's some royt (riotous) jist."
He thought to please her by the remark, because she had been in the habit of saying so herself. But distance had made Annie dearer; and her aunt's nose took fire with indignation, as she replied:
"The lassie's weel eneuch. I saw naething o' the sort aboot her. Gin ye canna guide her, that's your wyte."