antin' him."

"I wadna lat sic a thoucht come intil my heid, Robert, sae lang as I
kenned I cudna draw breath nor wag tongue wantin' him, for in him we
leeve an' muv an' hae oor bein'. Gien he be the life o' me, what
for sud I trible mysel' aboot that life?"

"Ay, lass! but gien ye hed this ashmy, makin' a' yer breist as gien
'twar lined wi' the san' paper 'at they hed been lichtin' a thoosan'
or twa lucifer spunks upo'--ye micht be driven to forget 'at the
Lord was yer life--for I can tell ye it's no like haein his breith
i' yer nostrils."

"Eh, my bonny laad!" returned Janet with infinite tenderness, "I
micht weel forget it! I doobt I wadna be half sae patient as
yersel'; but jist to help to haud ye up, I s' tell ye what I think I
wad ettle efter. I wad say to mysel' Gien he be the life o' me, I
hae no business wi' ony mair o' 't nor he gies me. I hae but to tak
ae breath, be 't hard, be 't easy, ane at a time, an' lat him see to
the neist himsel'. Here I am, an' here's him; an' 'at he winna
lat's ain wark come to ill, that I'm weel sure o'. An' ye micht
jist think to yersel', Robert, 'at as ye are born intil the warl',
an' here ye are auld intil't--ye may jist think, I say, 'at hoo
ye're jist new-born an auld man, an' beginnin' to grow yoong, an'
'at that's yer business. For naither you nor me can be that far
frae hame, Robert, an' whan we win there we'll be yoong eneuch, I'm
thinkin'; an' no ower yoong, for we'll hae what they say ye canna
get doon here--a pair o' auld heids upo' yoong shoothers."

"Eh! but I wuss I may hae ye there, Janet, for I kenna what I wad do
wantin' ye. I wad be unco stray up yon'er, gien I had to gang my
lane, an' no you to refar till, 'at kens the w'ys o' the place."

"I ken no more about the w'ys o' the place nor yersel', Robert,
though I'm thinkin' they'll be unco quaiet an' sensible, seein' 'at
a' there maun be gentle fowk. It's eneuch to me 'at I'll be i' the
hoose o' my Maister's father; an' my Maister was weel content to
gang to that hoose; an' it maun be something by ordinar' 'at was fit
for him. But puir simple fowk like oorsel's 'ill hae no need to
hing down the heid an' luik like gowks 'at disna ken mainners.
Bairns are no expeckit to ken a' the w'ys o' a muckle hoose 'at
they hae never been intil i' their lives afore."

"It's no that a'thegither 'at tribles me, Janet; it's mair 'at I'll
be expeckit to sing an' luik pleased-like, an' I div not ken hoo
it'll b