Trouble then, lack of interest, and late repulse, had laid
James's heart, such as it was, open to assault from a new quarter whence he
foresaw no danger.
"That's a very fine baby you have!" he said. "Whose is he?"
"Mine, sir," answered Maggie, with some triumph, for she thought every one
must know the story of her treasure.
"Oh, indeed; I did not know!" answered the parson, bewildered.
"At least," Maggie resumed a little hurriedly, "I have the best right to
him!" and there stopped.
"She cannot possibly be his mother!" thought the minister, and resolved to
question his housekeeper about the child.
"Is your father in the house?" he asked, and without waiting for an answer,
went in. "Such a big boy is too heavy for you to carry!" he added, as he
laid his hand on the latch of the kitchen door.
"No ae bit!" rejoined Maggie, with a little contempt at his disparagement
of her strength. "And wha's to cairry him but me?"
Huddling the boy to her bosom, she went on talking to him in childish
guise, as she lifted the latch for the minister:--
"Wad he hae my pet gang traivellin the warl' upo thae twa bonny wee legs o'
his ain, wantin the wings he left ahint him? Na, na! they maun grow a heap
stronger first.
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