During this prolonged and foolish speech, the gentle woman, whose mother-
heart had loved the poor girl that bore her daughter's name, had been
restraining her sobs behind her handkerchief; but now, as she heard her
son's cold commonplaces, it was, perhaps, a little wholesome anger that
roused her, and made her able to speak.
"Ye didna ken her, laddie," she cried, "or ye wad never mint at layin yer
tongue upon her that gait!--'Deed na, ye wadna!--But I doobt gien ever ye
could hae come to ken her as she was--sic a bonny, herty sowl as ance dwalt
in yon white-faced, patient thing, lyin i' the chaumer there--wi' the stang
oot o' her hert at last, and left the sharper i' mine! But me and yer
father--eh, weel we lo'ed her! for to hiz she was like oor ain Isy,--ay,
mair a dochter nor a servan--wi'a braw lovin kin'ness in her, no to be
luikit for frae ony son, and sic as we never had frae ony afore but oor ain
Isy.--Jist gang ye intil the closet there, gien ye wull, and ye'll see
what'll maybe saften yer hert a bit, and lat ye unerstan' what mak o' a
thing's come to the twa auld fowk ye never cared muckle aboot!"
James felt bitterly aggrieved by this personal remark of his mother.
Pages:
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233