'That's a lang ride, my lord, and a sliddery. And what's yer
lordship's wull?'

'Muckle ye care aboot my lordship to stand jawin' there in a night
like this! Is nobody going to take my horse?'

'I beg yer lordship's pardon. Caumill!--Yer lordship never said ye
wanted yer lordship's horse ta'en. I thocht ye micht be gaein' on
to The Bothie.--Tak' Black Geordie here, Caumill.--Come in to the
parlour, my lord.'

'How d'ye do, Miss Naper?' said Lord Rothie, as he entered the room.
'Here's this jade of a sister of yours asking me why I don't go home
to The Bothie, when I choose to stop and water here.'

'What'll ye tak', my lord?--Letty, fess the brandy.'

'Oh! damn your brandy! Bring me a gill of good Glendronach.'

'Rin, Letty. His lordship's cauld.--I canna rise to offer ye the
airm-cheir, my lord.'

'I can get one for myself, thank heaven!'

'Lang may yer lordship return sic thanks.'
'For I'm only new begun, ye think, Miss Naper. Well, I don't often
trouble heaven with my affairs. By Jove! I ought to be heard when
I do.'

'Nae doobt ye will, my lord, whan ye seek onything that's fit to be