"Oh, as to that," she answered in a relieved tone, "it is not much that we can give, but what we can we will, and, indeed, there are many of them in that Kirk that would be the better of giving a little of their money. But, lad," she added as if dismissing a painful subject, "you must be at your books."
"Which means I must go. I know you, Mother Macgregor," said Brown, using his pet name for the woman who had for two years been more of a mother to him than his own.
"Ay, and within a few weeks you will be wishing, as well, that someone had set you to your books, for the examinators will be upon you."
"And, doubtless, shear me as bare as Delilah did Samson of old. But I am not promising you I am going to work. My physician warns me against work on Saturday nights, so I am going to hunt up The Don."
"Indeed then, you will know well where to look for him," said the old lady shrewdly.
"Ah, mother, you're too sharp for any of us. Not much escapes your eyes."
"Indeed, one does not require eyes to see some things, and yon laddie is daft enough."
"Daft's the word," said Brown, "and has been for the last three years. Is not it astonishing and profoundly humiliating," he added solemnly, "to see a chit of a girl, just because she has brown curls and brown eyes with a most bewildering skill in using them, so twiddle a man? It passes my comprehension."
The old lady shook her head at him. "Wait you, my lad. Your day will come."
"I hear The Don has got the offer of a great appointment in connection with the new railway in that country and I fear that means trouble for him. There are those who would be delighted to see him out of the way for a couple of years or so."