"'Ou, my dear,' says I, 'I'm just gaun up to Orange Lane a wee while.'
"'To Orange Lane!' says she; 'what in the name o' fortune's gaun to tak ye there?'
"'O hinny,' says I, 'it's just a neebor lad or twa that's drapped in to wush us joy, and, ye ken, we canna but be neebor-like.'
"'Ay! the sorrow joy them!' says she, 'and neebor too!—an' how meikle will that cost ye?'
"'Hoot, Tibby,' says I, for I was quite astonished at her, 'ye no understand things, woman.'
"'No understand them!' says she; 'I wish to guidness that ye wad understand them though! If that's the way ye intend to mak the siller flee, it's time there were somebody to tak care o't.'
"I had put the silver in my pocket, and I was gaun to the door mair surprised than I can weel express, when she cried to me—
"'Mind what ye spend, and see that ye dinna stop.'
"'Ye need be under nae apprehensions o' that, hinny,' said I, wishing to pacify her.
"'See that it be sae,' cried she, as I shut the door.