"Whauraboots are ye stayin'?" he demanded, after they had passed the Swiss Cottage.
She told him. "Please don't let me take you out of your way," she added.
"Ye're no' verra far frae ma ain house," he declared. "Ye had best come in an' warm before ye gang on hame. Ye are in nae hurry, I suppose?"
"No, but——"
"Oh, the mistress will nae mind it. Ye just come in wi' me!"
Their conversation progressed by fits and starts till his domicile was reached. Leaving the trap to the care of the boy, who might have been a mute for any indication he had given to the contrary, Mr. Macpherson led her into a parlour, where a kettle steamed invitingly on the hob.
He was greeted by a little woman, evidently the wife referred to; and a rosy offspring, addressed as Charlotte, brought her progenitor a pair of slippers. His introduction of Mary to his family circle was brief.
"'Tis a young leddy," he said, "I gave a lift to. But I dinna ken your name?"
"My name is Brettan," she replied. Then, turning to the woman: "Your husband was kind enough to save me from walking home from Finchley, and now he has made me come in with him."
"It was a braw nicht for a walk," opined Macpherson.