"Weel, mem, for a leddy born, like yersel', I maun say, ye tak it
unco composed!"

"I'm no awaur, Mistress Catanach, o' ony necessity laid upo' ye
to say yer min' i' this hoose. It's no expeckit. But what for sud
I no tak' it wi' composur'? We'll hae to tak' oor ain turn er lang,
as composed as we hae the skiel o', and gang oot like a lang nibbit
can'le--ay, an lea' jist sic a memory ahin' some o' 's, Bawby."

"I kenna gien ye mean me, Miss Horn," said the woman; "but it's no
that muckle o' a memory I expec' to lea' ahin' me."

"The less the better," muttered Miss Horn; but her unwelcome visitor
went on:

"Them 'at 's maist i' my debt kens least aboot it; and then mithers
canna be said to hae muckle to be thankfu' for. It's God's trowth,
I ken waur nor ever I did mem. A body in my trade canna help fa'in'
amo' ill company whiles, for we're a' born in sin, an' brocht furth
in ineequity, as the Buik. says; in fac', it's a' sin thegither: we
come o' sin an' we gang for sin; but ye ken the likes o' me maunna
clype (tell tales). A' the same, gien ye dinna tak the help o' my
han', ye winna refuse me the sicht o' my een, puir thing!"

"There's nane sall luik upon her deid 'at wasna a pleesur' till
her livin'; an' ye ken weel eneuch, Bawby, she cudna thole (bear)
the sicht o' you."

"An' guid rizzon had she for that, gien a' 'at gangs throu' my
heid er I fa' asleep i' the lang mirk nichts be a hair better nor