My father rubbed his ears with the tablecloth.

"He's left a' his savings to his lassie," said he, "and by gom if she's
not changed from what she promised to be she'll soon gar them flee.
You mind what she said of weak tea under this very roof, and it at seven
shillings the pound!"

My mother shook her head, and looked up at the flitches of bacon that
hung from the ceiling.

"He doesn't say how much, but she'll have enough and to spare, he says.
And she's to come and bide with us, for that was his last wish."

"To pay for her keep!" cried my mother sharply. I was sorry that she
should have spoken of money at that moment, but then if she had not been
sharp we would all have been on the roadside in a twelvemonth.

"Aye, she'll pay, and she's coming this very day. Jock lad, I'll want
you to drive to Ayton and meet the evening coach. Your Cousin Edie will
be in it, and you can fetch her over to West Inch."

And so off I started at quarter past five with Souter Johnnie, the
long-haired fifteen-year-old, and our cart with the new-painted
tail-board that we only used on great days. The coach was in just as I
came, and I, like a foolish country lad, taking no heed to the years
that had passed, was looking about among the folk in the Inn front for a
slip of a girl with her petticoats just under her knees. And as I
slouched past and craned my neck there came a touch to my elbow, and
there was a lady dressed all in black standing by the steps, and I knew