“Havers,” responded Jamie, “it's juist tae get a sicht o' the inside o' a weel-kept hoose, and tak a lesson in order, though a 'll no deny that Elspeth Macfadyen an' auld Mary hev been verra attentive, as weel as Bell Baxter an' Annie Mitchell.”
“It's just a pity, Jamie, that so good-hearted a man never had a woman of his own. What set you against marriage?”
“Wha sed a' wes against merridge, Doctor Davidson?” and Jamie's face flushed. “Did ever man or woman hear me speak lichtly o' the mystery o' luve? The Glen hes thocht me an auld cankered bachelor, an' a've seen a lass leave her lad's side on the sicht o' me. Little they kent!”
No man knew better than the minister when to be quiet, and the ticking of Jamie's big silver watch was heard throughout the kitchen.
“Doctor Davidson, ye've been an honest man in the pulpit an' oot o't a' thae years, an' yir warks hev aye gane afore yir words. A 'll tell ye ma secret afore a' dee; ou ay, a' ken a'm deein', an' a'm rael pleased.
“Ye 'ill no mind that forty-five year syne a' workit a hale winter near Kildrummie, gaein' and comin' nicht an' mornin'.
“A' met... a lassie there, an' a' cam tae luve her aince an' for ever. No that a' wud hae spoken tae her, for a've been an ill-made, ill-tempered, thrawn body a' ma days, an' she... she wes as gude as Marget Hoo, though different. What mair can man say?
“The day ma wark wes dune a' said gude-bye tae her, an' that micht hae been the end, but a' turned sudden, an' a' saw the luke on her face.
“She cud hae taen her pick o' a' the lads roond Kildrummie, but nae man can lay doon the law tae luve; she... tuke me, that hed naething but a faithfu' hert, an' we gied oor word ane tae the ither for life... an' deith, as a man an' wuman sud aifter Christ's comin'.
“We cudna be mairrit till the summer, an' we agreed tae write nae letters tae set the foukes' tongues gaein; we wantit tae hae oor ain secret.