"I would not do so in any case to strangers," said Miss Grant. "And why are you so much immersed in the affairs of this young lady?"
"I heard she was in prison," said I.
"Well, and now you hear that she is out of it," she replied, "and what more would you have? She has no need of any further champion."
"I may have the greater need of her, ma'am," said I.
"Come, this is better!" says Miss Grant. "But look me fairly in the face; am I not bonnier than she?"
"I would be the last to be denying it," said I. "There is not your marrow in all Scotland."
"Well, here you have the pick of the two at your hand, and must needs speak of the other," said she. "This is never the way to please the ladies, Mr. Balfour."
"But, mistress," said I, "there are surely other things besides mere beauty."
"By which I am to understand that I am no better than I should be, perhaps?" she asked.
"By which you will please understand that I am like the cock in the midden in the fable book," said I. "I see the braw jewel--and I like fine to see it too--but I have more need of the pickle corn."