The Entail. John Galt

of which were sticking thickly on the blue worsted apron which she had put on to protect her old red quilted silk petticoat.

      ‘Girzy Hypel, be nane surprised to hear of a purpose of marriage soon between Watty and Betty Bodle.’

      ‘No possible!’ exclaimed the Leddy, sitting down with vehemence in her astonishment, and flinging, at the same time, the chicken across her lap, with a certain degree of instinctive or habitual dexterity.

      ‘What for is’t no possible?’ said the Laird angrily through his teeth, apprehensive that she was going to raise some foolish objection.

      ‘Na, gudeman, an that’s to be a come-to-pass – let nobody talk o’ miracles to me. For although it’s a thing just to the nines o’ my wishes, I hae ay jealoused that Betty Bodle would na tak him, for she’s o’ a rampant nature, and he’s a sober weel-disposed lad. My word, Watty, t’ou has thy ain luck – first thy grandfather’s property o’ the Plealands, and syne’ – She was going to add, ‘sic a bonny braw-tochered lass as Betty Bodle’ – but her observation struck jarringly on the most discordant string in her husband’s bosom, and he interrupted her sharply, saying, —