n auld woman. Ye would be
six-and-twenty past at last Lammas."

"So I believe, mother!" said Meggie; and a sigh, or a very deep and
long-drawn breath, followed her words.

"Dear me!" continued the old lady, "young men maun be growing very
scarce. I wanted four months and five days o' being nineteen when I
married your faither, and I had refused at least six offers before I
took him!"

"Ay, mother," replied the maiden; "but ye had a weel-faured face--there
lay the difference! Heigho!"

"Heigho!" responded her mother, as in pleasant raillery--"what is the
lassie heighoing at? Certes, if ye get a guidman before ye be six and
twenty, ye may think yoursel' a very fortunate woman."

"Yes," added the maiden; "but I see sma' prospect o' that. I doubt ye
will see the Ettrick running through the 'dowie dells o' Yarrow,' before
ye hear tell o' an offer being made to me."

"Hoot, hoot!--dinna say sae, bairn," added her mother; "there is nae
saying what may betide ye yet. Ye think ye winna be married before ye
are six and twenty; but, truly, my dear, there has mony a mair unlikely
ship come to land. Now, what wad ye think o' the young laird o' Harden?"

"Mother! mother!" said Agnes, "wherefore do ye mock me? I never saw ye
do that before. My faither has ta'en William Scott a prisoner; and, from
what I hae heard, he will hang him in the morning. Ye ken what a man my
faither is--when he says a thing he will do it; and how can you jest
about the young man, when his very existence is reduced to a matter o'
minutes and moments. Though, rather than my faither should tak his life,
if I could save him, he should take mine."

"Weel said, my bairn," replied the old woman; "but dinna ye be put about
concerning what will never come to pass. I doubtna that, before morning,
ye will find young Scott o' Harden at your feet, and begging o' you to
save his life, by giving him your hand and troth, and becoming his wife:
and then, ye ken, your faither couldna, for shame, hang or do ony harm
to his ain son-in-law."

"O mother! mother!" replied Agnes, "it will never be in my power to save
him; for what ye hae said he will never think o'; and even if I were his
wife, I question if my faither would pardon him, though I should beg it
upon my knees."

"Oh, your faither's no sae ill as that, Meggie, my doo," said the old
lady. "Mark my words--if Willie Scott consent to marry you, ye will
henceforth find him and your faither hand and glove."

Whi