"Women's jist dreidfu'. Whan ance they gang the ill gait, they're neither to haud nor bin'. And to think o' them layin' han's upo' sic a bonnie weel-behaved laddie as that Alec Forbes, a ceevil, herty cratur, wi' a kin' word an' a joke even for the beggar 'at he geid a bawbee till! Weel, he'll come oot o' their cluiks, maybe no that nmckle the waur efter a', as mony a man frae King Dawvid doonwith afore him."
"Noo, wumman!" said Andrew, in a tone of authority blended with rising indignation; "ye're slidin' aff o' yer ain stule, and ye'll be upo' the grun' afore ye win on to mine. Richt or wrang aboot the women, I bude to ken mair aboot the men nor ye do; and I daur affirm and uphaud that never man cam' oot o' the grip o' thae poor deluded craters—"
Mrs Constable interposed with one single emphatic epithet, not admittable to the ears of this generation; but Andrew resumed, and went on.
"—poor deluded craters, withoot losin' a great pairt o' what was left in him o' the eemage o' God efter the fall. Woman, he tynes (loses) a heap!"
"Hoo sud ye ken onything aboot that, Anerew?" returned his wife sharply.
"The same way than ye ken sae weel aboot the she side o' the queston, lass. We may jist enlichten ane anither a wee aboot some things, mayhap."
Meantime the ears of the little pitcher in bed had been growing longer and longer with curious horror. The something in itself awfully vague about Alec's fate was wrapt in yet deeper clouds of terror and mystery by the discord of opinion with regard to it on the part of her father and mother, whom she had rarely heard differ. She pictured to herself the image of his Maker being scratched off Alec by the claws of furies; and hot pincers tearing nail after nail from the hand which had once given her a penny. And her astonishment was therefore paralyzing when she heard her father say:
"But ye maun haud a quaiet tongue i' yer heid, guidwife; for weel as ye like the laddie, ye may blast his character gin ye say a word aboot it."
"I s' warran' it's a' ower Glamerton afore it comes to your lugs,
Anerew," returned her mother. "They're no that gleg efter sic news. But
I wad like sair to ken wha sent hame the word o' 't."
"I'm thinking it's been young Bruce."