less wantit. For ane 'at has the hairmlessness o' the doo 'n this
ill wulled warl', there's a feck o' ten 'at has the wisdom o' the
serpent. An' the serpents mak sair wark wi' the doos--lat alane
them 'at flees into the verra mouws o' them."

"Weel, ye're jist richt there," said Mrs Mellis. "An' as ye say,
she was aye some easy to perswaud. I hae nae doubt she believed to
the ver' last he wad come back and mairry her."

"Come back and mairry her! Wha or what div ye mean? I jist tell ye
Mistress Mellis--an' it's weel ye're named--gien ye daur to
hint at ae word o' sic clavers, it's this side o' this door o' mine
ye's be less acquant wi'."

As she spoke, the hawk eyes of Miss Horn glowed on each side of
her hawk nose, which grew more and more hooked as she glared, while
her neck went craning forward as if she were on the point of making
a swoop on the offender. Mrs Mellis's voice trembled with something
like fear as she replied:

"Gude guide 's, Miss Horn! What hae I said to gar ye look at me
sae by ordinar 's that?"

"Said!" repeated Miss Horn, in a tone that revealed both annoyance
with herself and contempt for her visitor. "There's no a claver in
a' the countryside but ye maun fess 't hame aneth yer oxter, as
gin 't were the prodigal afore he repentit. Ye's get sma thanks for
sic like here. An' her lyin' there as she'll lie till the jeedgment
day, puir thing!"