"Sit ye doon, Miss Horn," she said; "it 's a lang time sin we had
a news thegither."
Miss Horn seated herself with a begrudged acquiescence.
Had Mrs Mellis been more of a tactician, she would have dug a few
approaches ere she opened fire upon the fortress of her companion's
fair hearing: but instead of that, she at once discharged the
imprudent question--"Was ye at hame last nicht, mem, atween the
hoors o' aucht an' nine?"--a shot which instantly awoke in reply
the whole battery of Miss Horn's indignation.
"Wha am I, to be speirt sic a queston! Wha but yersel' wad hae
daurt it, Mistress Mellis?"
"Huly (softly), huly, Miss Horn!" expostulated her questioner. "I
hae nae wuss to pry intill ony secrets o' yours, or--"
"Secrets!" shouted Miss Horn!
But her consciousness of good intent, and all but assurance of
final victory, upheld Mrs Mellis.
"--or Jean's aither," she went on, apparently regardless; "but I
wad fain be sure ye kent a' aboot yer ain hoose 'at a body micht
chance to see frae the croon o' the caus'ay (middle of the street)."
"The parlour blind 's gane up crookit sin' ever that thoomb fingert
cratur, Watty Witherspail, made a new roller till 't. Gien 't be
that ye mean, Mistress Mellis,--"
"Hoots!" returned the other. "--Hoo far can ye lippen to that Jean
o' yours, mem?"
"Nae farer nor the len'th o' my nose, an' the breid o' my twa een,"
was the scornful answer.
Although, however, she thus manifested her resentment of Mrs Mellis's
catechetical attempts in introducing her subject, Miss Horn had no
desire to prevent the free outcome of her approaching communication.
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