"Well, Hobbie, I have shot a fat buck, and sent him to Earnscliff this
morning--you shall have half of him for your grandmother."

"Mony thanks to ye, Mr. Patrick, ye're kend to a' the country for a kind
heart. It will do the auld wife's heart gude--mair by token, when she
kens it comes frae you--and maist of a' gin ye'll come up and take your
share, for I reckon ye are lonesome now in the auld tower, and a' your
folk at that weary Edinburgh. I wonder what they can find to do amang
a wheen ranks o' stane-houses wi' slate on the tap o' them, that might
live on their ain bonny green hills."

"My education and my sisters' has kept my mother much in Edinburgh for
several years," said Earnscliff; "but I promise you I propose to make up
for lost time."

"And ye'll rig out the auld tower a bit," said Hobbie, "and live
hearty and neighbour-like wi' the auld family friends, as the Laird o'
Earnscliff should? I can tell ye, my mother--my grandmother I mean--but,
since we lost our ain mother, we ca' her sometimes the tane, and
sometimes the tother--but, ony gate, she conceits hersell no that
distant connected wi' you."

"Very true, Hobbie, and I will come to the Heugh-foot to dinner
to-morrow with all my heart."

"Weel, that's kindly said! We are auld neighbours, an we were nae
kin--and my gude-dame's fain to see you--she clavers about your father
that was killed lang syne."