"Hoot, laddie! haud yer tongue."

"Ay will I. I'm na gaun to du 't, ye ken. But sic a fine troot 's
that--the verra ane ye wad hae likit, mem!"

"Never ye min' the troot. There's mair whaur that cam frae. What
anger't her at ye?"

"Naething mair nor that I bude to gie Mistress Courthope the first
wale (choice) o' my fish."

"The wuman's no worth yer notice, 'cep to haud oot o' her gait,
laddie; an' that ye had better luik till, for she's no canny. Dinna
ye anger her again gien ye can help it. She has an ill luik, an' I
canna bide her.--Hae, there's yer siller. Jean, tak in this fish."

During the latter part of the conversation they had been standing
at the door, while Miss Horn ferreted the needful pence from a
pocket under her gown. She now entered, but as Malcolm waited for
Jean to take the fish, she turned on the threshold, and said:

"Wad ye no like to see her, Ma'colm?--A guid frien' she was to
you, sae lang's she was here," she added after a short pause.

The youth hesitated.

"I never saw a corp i' my life, mem, an' I'm jist some feared," he
said, after another brief silence.