"Far frae that," he said.
"Ah, then, you have quarrelled, and I am to speak up for you?"
"Na, na," he said, "I dinna want ye to do that above all things. It would be a favour if ye could gie me a bad character."
This beat me, and, I daresay, my face showed it.
"I'm no' juist what ye would call anxious to marry Mag noo," said Gavin, without a tremor.
I told him to go on.
"There's a lassie oot at Craigiebuckle," he explained, "workin' on the farm—Jeanie Luke by name. Ye may ha'e seen her?"
"What of her?" I asked, severely.
"Weel," said Gavin, still unabashed, "I'm thinkin' noo 'at I would rather ha'e her."
Then he stated his case more fully.