“Is’t Miss Ross that’s with you?” asked Bessie.
“I’m with Miss Ross,” said Jacky, quickly “Miss Anne chose me of her own will—after I askit her—and so did Miss Falconer.”
“Eh! isna she an awfu’ funny lady, yon Miss Falconer?”
“Funny!” Jacky was indignantly astonished. “I dinna ken what ye ca’ funny, Bessie. She’s like—”
“She’s no like ither folk,” said Bessie.
“It’s you that doesna ken. She’s like—”
“Wha is she like, Jacky?”
“She’s like Belphœbe,” muttered Jacky, hastily. “But ye dinna ken wha she was—and she’s a lady, for a’ that she does strange thing whiles.”