"Peter, indeed!" said the old woman wrathfully. "It's little I've seen o' him the day. Mony's the wee bit job I've wanted him to dae; but na, na, no the day, he must be lookin' after the vine, he says." And Lisbeth tossed her head.
"Well, you know, Peter isn't as young as he once was, and when he has to climb up the steps to reach the top bits of the vine, it takes him a long time," said Marjory, with a view to calming the old woman's wrath.
Lisbeth flounced round. "Don't you go for to say my Peter's slow at his work. It's little ye ken how hard he's at it, nicht an' day, slavin' for you an' the doctor, miss; and he's nane sae auld neither, an' ye needna be ca'in' him an auld rheumaticky body that canna climb a lether."
"O Lisbeth, I didn't," reproachfully.
"You did so."
"I did nothing of the kind; I tried to make excuses for him because you were so cross with him."
"Me cross! Me cross wi' Peter!" ejaculated Lisbeth. "Me that's never been cross wi' my man in a lifetime o' years! What next?"
"Just that you're a dear, funny old thing, and I'm going to bed."
"Ye're a peart-mouthed lassie, that's what ye are. Ye'd best get awa to yer bed."
It was always thus with Lisbeth and Peter. Did any one cast the slightest shadow of blame on either, the other was up in arms at once; and though each might blame the other for some omission or commission, as soon as any third person agreed in laying blame, that person found himself in very hot water indeed.