‘Ye wud that, lassie. Fathers maun sometimes be fearsome to lass-bairns!’
‘Whan I’m feart at you, father, I’ll be a gey bit on i’ the ill gait!’ returned Kirsty, with a solemn face, looking straight into her father’s eyes.
‘Than it’ll never be, or I maun hae a heap to blame mysel for. I think whiles, gien bairns kenned the terrible wyte their fathers micht hae to dree for no duin better wi’ them, they wud be mair particlar to haud straucht. I hae been ower muckle taen up wi’ my beasts and my craps—mair, God forgie me! nor wi’ my twa bairns; though, he kens, ye’re mair to me, the twa, than oucht else save the mither o’ ye!’
‘The beasts and the craps cudna weel du wi’ less; and there was aye oor mither to see efter hiz!’
‘That’s true, lassie! I only houp it wasna greed at the hert o’ me! At the same time, wha wud I be greedy for but yersels?—Weel, and what’s it a’ aboot? What garred ye come to me aboot Francie? I’m some feart for him whiles, noo ’at he’s sae muckle oot o’ oor sicht. The laddie’s no by natur an ill laddie—far frae ’t! but it’s a sore pity he cudna hae been a’ his father’s, and nane o’ him his mither’s!’
‘That wudna hae been sae weel contrived, I doobt!’ remarked Kirsty. ‘There wudna hae been the variety, I’m thinkin!’
‘Ye’re richt there, lass!—But what’s this aboot Francie?’
‘Ow naething, father, worth mentionin! The daft loon wud hae hed me promise to merry him—that’s a’!’
‘The Lord preserve’s!—Aff han’?’
‘There’s no tellin what micht hae been i’ the heid o’ ’im: he didna win sae far as to say that onygait!’