'I never preten't ony richt to think aboot sic,' returned Miss Lammie, with a mild indignation.
'That's richt, lass. Od, ye're aye i' the richt—though I say 't 'at sudna.'
Miss Lammie must indeed have been good-natured, to answer only with a genuine laugh. Shargar looked explosive with anger. But Robert would fain hear more of his mother.
'What was my mother like, Mr. Lammie?' he asked.
'Eh, my man! ye suld hae seen her upon a bonnie bay mere that yer father gae her. Faith! she sat as straught as a rash, wi' jist a hing i' the heid o' her, like the heid o' a halm o' wild aits.'
'My father wasna that ill till her than?' suggested Robert.
'Wha ever daured say sic a thing?' returned Mr. Lammie, but in a tone so far from satisfactory to Robert, that he inquired no more in that direction.
I need hardly say that from that night Robert was more than ever diligent with his violin.