“Na, na, Weelum, it 'ill no dae. A' ken the hert o' ye weel, and ye 'ill stan' by yir freend through fair and foul; but a'm gaein' tae clear things up aince for a'; a 'll never gang through this again.
“It's no the Glen a'm thinkin' aboot the nicht; a' wud like tae hae their gude opinion, an' a 'm no what they 're considerin' me, but a' canna gie them the facts o' the case, an'... a' maun juist dee as a' hev lived.
“What cuts me tae the hert is that the twa fouk a' luve sud hae reason to jidge me a miser; ane o' them wull never ken her mistake, but a 'll pit masel richt wi' the ither. Weelum, for what div ye think a've been scrapin' for a' thae years?”
“Weel, gin ye wull hae ma mind,” said the doctor slowly, “a' believed ye hed been crossed in luve, for ye telt me as much yersel....”
“Ye 're richt, Weelum; a 'll tell ye mair the nicht; gang on.”
“It cam tae ma mind that ye turned tae bargainin' an' savin', no for greed—a' kent there wes nae greed in ye; div ye suppose a' cudna tell the differ atween ma freend an' Milton?—but for a troke tae keep yir mind aff... aff yir sorrow.”
“Thank ye, Weelum, thank ye kindly, but it wesna even on accoont o' that a've lived barer than ony plooman for the best part o' ma life; a' tell ye, beyond the stockin' on ma fairm a'm no worth twa hunder pund this nicht.
“It wes for anither a' githered, an' as fast as I got the gear a' gied it awa,” and Drumsheugh sprang to his feet, his eyes shining; “it wes for luve's sake a' haggled an' schemed an' stairved an' toiled till a've been a byword at kirk and market for nearness; a' did it a' an' bore it a' for ma luve, an' for... ma luve a' wud hae dune ten times mair.
“Did ye ken wha it wes, Weelum?”
“Ye never mentioned her name, but a' jaloosed, an' there's nane like her in the Glen—”