“No,” admitted Mrs Duffy, “but there’s nae need tae play sae lang’s ye can get a vinolia to play for ye. I think we’ll flit at the term to yin o’ yon hooses roond the corner, wi’ the tiled closes, and maybe keep a wee servant lassie. I’m that nervous at havin’ to rise for the mulk in the mornin’. No’ an awfu’ big servant wi’ keps and aiprons, ye understaund, but yin I could train into the thing. I’m no’ for nane o’ your late dinners, I jist like to tak’ something in my hand for my supper.”
“Och ay, ye’ll can easy get a wee no’ awfu’ strong yin frae the country, chape,” said Erchie.
“Ye must tak’ care o’ yer ain health, Mrs Duffy, and if ye’re nervous, risin’ in the mornin’ to tak’ in the mulk’s no’ for ye. But my! ye’ll no’ be for speakin’ to the like o’ us when ye come into your fortune.”
“It’s no’ exactly whit ye wad ca’ a fortune,” Duffy explained, as they drew in their chairs to the table. “But it’s a heap o’ money to get a’ at yince withoot daein’ onything for’t.”
“Will ye hae to gang into mournin’s for the body that left it?” Jinnet asked Mrs Duffy. “I ken a puir weedow wumman that would come to the hoose to sew for ye.”
“Ye’re aff it a’thegither,” said Duffy. “It’s naebody that left it to us—it’s a medallion. Whit I wanted to ask ye, Erchie, is this—whit’s a medallion?”
“Jist a kind o’ a medal,” said Erchie.
“My jove!” said Duffy, “the wife was richt efter a’. I thocht it was something for playin’ on, like a melodian. Weel, it doesna maitter, ye’ve heard o’ the hidden treasure the newspapers’s puttin’ here and there roond the country? I ken where yin o’ them’s hidden. At least I ken where there’s a medallion.”
“Oh, hoo nice!” said Jinnet. “It’s awfu’ smert o’ ye, Mr Duffy. I was just readin’ aboot them, and was jist hopin’ some puir body wad get them.”
“No’ that poor naither!” said Mrs Duffy, with a little warmth.