“Mr. Wigglesworth,” she began sternly.
But Malcolm cut in.
“Now, Mother, I suppose it's a regular enough meeting. Just wait till I get my hat, Mr. Wigglesworth. I'll be with you.”
His mother followed him into the house, leaving Mr. Wigglesworth at the door.
“Malcolm,” she began with solemn emphasis.
“Now, now, Mother, surely you know me well enough by this time to trust my judgment in a matter of this kind,” said her son, hurriedly searching for his hat.
“Ay, but A'm no sae sure o' yon buddie—”
“Hoot, toot,” said her son, passing out. “A'll be back in abundant time for the Kirk, Mither. Never you fear.”
“Weel, weel, laddie, remember what day it is. Ye ken weel it's no day for warldly amusement.”
“Ay, Mither,” replied her son, smiling a little at the associating of Mr. Wigglesworth with amusement of any sort on any day.