"Aweel," said Cuddie, after a little consideration, "I see but ae gate
for't, and that's a cauld coal to blaw at, mither. Howsomever, mither, ye
hae some guess o' a wee bit kindness that's atween Miss Edith and young
Mr Henry Morton, that suld be ca'd young Milnwood, and that I hae whiles
carried a bit book, or maybe a bit letter, quietly atween them, and made
believe never to ken wha it cam frae, though I kend brawly. There's
whiles convenience in a body looking a wee stupid--and I have aften seen
them walking at e'en on the little path by Dinglewood-burn; but naebody
ever kend a word about it frae Cuddie; I ken I'm gay thick in the head,
but I'm as honest as our auld fore-hand ox, puir fallow, that I'll ne'er
work ony mair--I hope they'll be as kind to him that come ahint me as I
hae been.--But, as I was saying, we'll awa down to Milnwood and tell Mr
Harry our distress They want a pleughman, and the grund's no unlike our
ain--I am sure Mr Harry will stand my part, for he's a kind-hearted
gentleman.--I'll get but little penny-fee, for his uncle, auld Nippie
Milnwood, has as close a grip as the deil himsell. But we'l, aye win a
bit bread, and a drap kale, and a fire-side and theeking ower our heads,
and that's a' we'll want for a season.--Sae get up, mither, and sort your
things to gang away; for since sae it is that gang we maun, I wad like
ill to wait till Mr Harrison and auld Gudyill cam to pu' us out by the
lug and the horn."





CHAPTER VIII.

The devil a puritan, or any thing else he is, but a time-server.
Twelfth Night.