“Ay, I’m thinkin’ I maun gang,” he said at length.
“Whaur till, than?” asked Miss Horn.
“Ow! to Lon’on—whaur ither?”
“And what’ll yer lordship du there?”
“Dinna say lordship to me, mem, or I’ll think ye’re jeerin’ at me. What wad the caterpillar say,” he added, with a laugh, “gien ye ca’d her my leddie Psyche?”
Malcolm of course pronounced the Greek word in Scotch fashion.
“I ken naething aboot yer Seechies or yer Sukies,” rejoined Miss Horn. “I ken ’at ye’re bun’ to be a lord and no a stableman, an’ I s’ no lat ye rist till ye up an’ say what neist?”
“It’s what I ha’e been sayin’ for the last three month,” said Malcolm.
“Ay, I daursay; but ye ha’e been sayin’ ’t upo’ the braid o’ yer back, and I wad ha’e ye up an’ sayin’ ’t.”
“Gien I but kent what to du!” said Malcolm, for the thousandth time.