“An’ the de’il! Aye, ’tis the muckle de’il ye’re bound for, lad!”
“Not necessarily, Hector.”
“Troth, an’ indeed Auld Hornie’ll hae ye in his cloofs for guid and a’ this time. Oh, ’tis waefu’ an’ a’ by reason o’ your stubborn, wilfu’ pride!... An’ here was Auld Hector dreamin’ o’ ye settlin’ doon at last wi’ a bonny wife ... aye, an’ bairns, mebbe!... I was thinkin’ if ... your first chanced to be a boy ... mebbe you’d name him after me. Hector’s no sic a bad name, Johnnie ... but now....”
“Now, Hector, seeing I have not the remotest thought of marrying, why not get wed yourself ... Mrs. Saunders, say ... and call your first son ‘John’ after me?”
“Whisht, lad, dinna lichtlie the matter! Do not mock, sir!”
“I speak in all seriousness, Hector.”
“Do not make me a jest, sir! Do not sneer at an old man’s dreams.... They were very dear, very sacred to me. And now they lie shattered by your detestable selfishness ... and I am an old man indeed!”
“Though you never looked stronger, Hector!”
“And what o’ your tenantry, your people that should be your responsibility?”
“I leave them in good and, I think, capable hands.”