seemed to him so moving, so completely in the vein of the best Scottish
pathos, that he continued to gaze at her and enjoy his own emotion,
until a wryness of her mouth made him fear that unless he hurried up and
got to the point she would rush from the room and leave him without this
delicious occupation. So he went on, speaking cosily. "I thought little
of it. You are a good lassie, Nelly, and I can trust you. I know that
fine. Sometimes I think it is a great peety that Philip was not born a
wee girl, for he would have grown up into a fine maiden aunt. He is that
particular about his sisters you would not believe. Though losh! he has
no call for anxiety, for they're none of them bonny."

Ellen was pulling herself together, trying to take his lack of censure
as a matter of course and choking back the tears of relief. "I'd not say
that," she said in a strangled voice. "Miss Chrissie isn't so bad,
though with those teeth I think she would be wiser to avoid looking
arch. Och, Mr. James, what's come to you?" For he was rolling with a
great groundswell of merriment, and slapping his thigh and chuckling.
"The things the simplest woman can say! No need for practice in boodwars
and draring-rooms! It comes natural!" She looked at him with wrinkled
brows and smiling mouth, sure that he was not being unkind, but
wondering why he laughed, and murmured, "Mr. James, Mr. James!" It
flashed on her suddenly what he meant, and she jumped up from her seat
and cried through exasperated laughter, "Och, men are mean things! I see
what's in your mind! But indeed I did not intend to be catty! You must
admit, though she's your own daughter, that Miss Chrissie's teeth are
on the long side! That's all I meant. Och, Mr. James, I wish you would
not be such a tease!" However, he continued to laugh bellyingly, and she
started to run round the table as if to assail him with childish
tuggings and shakings, but to leave her hands free she popped the ginger
stick into her mouth like a cigarette, and was immediately distracted to
gravity by important considerations. "What am I doing, eating ginger
when I hate the stuff? I'll nip off the end I've been at and put it back
for mother. She just loves it, dear knows why, the nasty hot thing. I'll
have one of the pink ones. They've no great flavour, but I like the
colour...."

While she bent over the box, her mind and fingers busy among the layers,
the old man turned his bleared eyes upon her and wondered at h