'Well, I'll just go and have a look at Black Geordie.'

'Verra weel, my lord.--Letty, rin an' luik efter him; and as sune 's
he's roon' the neuk, tell Lizzie no to say a word aboot the leddy.
As sure 's deith he's efter her. Whaur cud he hae heard tell o'
her?'

Lord Rothie came, a moment after, sauntering into the bar-parlour,
where Lizzie, the third Miss Napier, a red-haired, round-eyed,
white-toothed woman of forty, was making entries in a book.

'She's a bonnie lassie that, that came in the coach to-night, they
say, Miss Lizzie.'

'As ugly 's sin, my lord,' answered Lizzie.

'I hae seen some sin 'at was nane sae ugly, Miss Lizzie.'

'She wad hae clean scunnert (disgusted) ye, my lord. It's a mercy
ye didna see her.'

'If she be as ugly as all that, I would just like to see her.'

Miss Lizzie saw she had gone too far.

'Ow, deed! gin yer lordship wants to see her, ye may see her at yer
wull. I s' gang and tell her.'

And she rose as if to go.