"Jeannie, what think ye aboot oor neebor's talk?"
"His talk aboot what? He says sae muckle, wha can mind it a'?" she said with that persistent dullness of comprehension that is often assumed by her sex.
Wullie, seeing he would have no help in the matter, came to the point at once, "His talk aboot wedlock, to be sure."
"It is but ane o' his daft notions," she replied, but in a tone less severe than the words.
"It isna sae daft a notion, perhaps," he said, following up his advantage. "It is true I hae neither riches, wit, nor beauty. I hae naught but a hamely living to offer ye, and that ye s'all hae at ony rate if I can win it. I will always do my best to provide for Rab's family, but it might be mair proper to hae the family a' in ane. What do ye say till it?"
"I will say naething against the wish o' him wha is gaen awa. He said, 'If Wullie would ever wish to mak ye his wife, hear till him.'"
"Noo, then," said Wullie, "I will tak the first kiss I hae had o' a woman sin' my mither died. Hoo soon s'all it be?"
"As it suits yoursel. Ye ken my best earthly affections lie in the grave wi' your brither; but if ye can tak respect and esteem instead o' affection, I willna oppose your wishes."
"Weel, I will accept what ye hae to gie me, and perhaps the affection will come after a while."