"Now, my guid woman," he said, "let me beg o' you to say quickly what ye hae to say, for I really will not be detained."
"No twa minutes, no twa minutes, my lord," said the widow, dustin, wi' great activity, wi' her apron, a chair for his lordship to sit doun upon.
"No, no; I really will not sit doun," said his lordship, determinedly. "I'll hear what you hae to say standin."
"But ye maun sit, my lord," replied the widow, wi' equal resolution. "A bonny thing it wad be, you to come into my house, and gang oot again withoot sittin doun. Na, na, that maunna be said. Doun, my lord, ye maun sit." And, seein that he wad only increase his ain delay by resistance, doun, to be sure, his lordship did sit. "Noo, my lord," says the widow, "I'm sure the deil a morsel o' breakfast ye hae gotten the day yet—for it's no aboon seven o'clock; sae ye'll just tak a mouthfu wi' me."
At this horrid proposal, his lordship sprang frae his chair—for he was noo fairly driven at bay—and made for the door; but the widow was as clever in the heels as he was. She sprang after him, and, before he could gain the door, had him fast by the tails o' the coat, exclaimin, as she pu'ed him back—
"Deil a fit o' ye, my lord, 's gaun oot o' this house, till ye taste my bread and cheese. Ise haud ye fast, I warrant."
Regardless o' her threats, his lordship still pressed for the door; but the stieve auld wife held on wi' a determined and nae feckless grip, and he couldna mak it oot, withoot efforts that micht do her an injury. Seein this, and seein, at the same time, the ludicrousness o' the struggle, his lordship at length gied in, and returned to his seat. In a twinklin the active auld wifie had a table before him, covered wi' bread, butter, and cheese, and a large jug o' sweet milk.
"Noo, my lord, see and tak a mouthfu. It's but hamely fare to put before a lord; but it's gien wi' hearty guid-will, and that maun mak amends."
His lordship guid-naturedly took a little o' what was put before him. While doin this, the auld wifie kept up a runnin fire o' sma'-talk.
"Noo, my lord, ye'll be guid to my son. He's an honest man's bairn, but his faither's dead and gane mony a year syne; and mony a lonely seat and sair heart has fa'en to my share sin syne; but I aye looked forward to findin a comforter and supporter in my only son, in my auld age; but noo he's taen frae me too, and a' is desolation and darkness around me."