'But it iss a cold greeting to gif a body, that iss what it iss, no to shake a hand, Maggie,' said Angus; 'or maybe,' plucking up courage from the laughter in Maggie's eyes and the pose of Maggie's cheek, 'maybe that iss what you wanted!' And Angus boldly bestowed a kiss upon the girl's cheek.
'Oh, Angus MacTavish, and how could ye do the like o' that, when ye see I could not protect myself wi' my hands among the butter?'
'Then gif it to me back again, as the song says,' said Angus, taking his own again, before Maggie could make any show of resistance.
'But it iss a wild fellow ye are, and no deserving this drink o' new-drawn warm milk I am going to give ye!'
Maggie wiped her hands in the long white apron she wore, and turned to fill a tumbler full of milk from one of the pans.
'Well, Maggie Cameron, it iss maybe more than I deserve,' said Angus, as he took the tumbler from her hand and raised it to his mouth; 'but here iss to your ferry good-health, Maggie!'
'I believe ye would rather it had been a dram,' said the girl, as she watched the milk swiftly disappear down the young sailor's throat. But Angus declared that in saying so she libelled him.
'And now, Maggie, ye must put on your hat and come with me,' said Angus seriously, when he had emptied the tumbler.
'Go with you, Angus! You're joking. Wass it not for your lesson on the pipes ye came? But dad iss not at home this afternoon—he went the clachan-way with your father—but he will be disappointed to hef missed you.'
'I want you to come to the shore with me, Maggie; I have something to shew you, and I will take no denial for this once.'