Malcolm | Page 2

forward as if she were on the point of making a
swoop on the offender. Mrs Mellis's voice trembled with something
like fear as she replied:
"Gude guide 's, Miss Horn! What hae I said to gar ye look at me sae by
ordinar 's that?"
"Said!" repeated Miss Horn, in a tone that revealed both annoyance
with herself and contempt for her visitor. "There's no a claver in a' the
countryside but ye maun fess 't hame aneth yer oxter, as gin 't were the
prodigal afore he repentit. Ye's get sma thanks for sic like here. An' her
lyin' there as she'll lie till the jeedgment day, puir thing!"

"I'm sure I meant no offence, Miss Horn," said her visitor. "I thocht a'
body kent 'at she was ill about him."
"Aboot wha, i' the name o' the father o' lees?"
"Ow, aboot that lang leggit doctor 'at set oat for the Ingies, an' dee'd
afore he wan across the equautor. Only fouk said he was nae mair deid
nor a halvert worm, an' wad be hame whan she was merried."
"It's a' lees frae heid to fiit, an' frae bert to skin."
"Weel, it was plain to see she dwyned awa efter he gaed, an' never was
hersel' again--ye dinna deny that?"
"It's a' havers," persisted Miss Horn, but in accents considerably
softened. "She cared na mair aboot the chield nor I did mysel'. She
dwyned, I grant ye, an' he gaed awa, I grant ye; but the win' blaws an'
the water rins, an the tane has little to du wi' the tither."
"Weel, weel; I'm sorry I said onything to offen' ye, an' I canna say mair.
Wi' yer leave, Miss Horn, I'll jist gang an' tak' a last leuk at her, puir
thing!"
"'Deed, ye s' du naething o' the kin'! I s' lat nobody glower at her 'at
wad gang an spairge sic havers about her, Mistress Mellis. To say 'at
sic a doo as my Grizel, puir, saft hertit, winsome thing, wad hae lookit
twice at ony sic a serpent as him! Na, na, mem! Gang yer wa's hame,
an' come back straucht frae yer prayers the morn's mornin'. By that time
she'll be quaiet in her coffin, an' I'll be quaiet i' my temper. Syne I'll lat
ye see her--maybe.--I wiss I was weel rid o' the sicht o' her, for I canna
bide it. Lord, I canna bide it."
These last words were uttered in a murmured aside, inaudible to Mrs
Mellis, to whom, however, they did not apply, but to the dead body.
She rose notwithstanding in considerable displeasure, and with a formal
farewell walked from the room, casting a curious glance as she left it in
the direction of that where the body lay, and descended the stairs as
slowly as if on every step she deliberated whether the next would bear
her weight. Miss Horn, who had followed her to the head of the stair,
watched her out of sight below the landing, when she turned and
walked back once more into the parlour, but with a lingering look
towards the opposite room, as if she saw through the closed door what
lay white on the white bed.
"It's a God's mercy I hae no feelin's," she said to herself. "To even
(equal) my bonny Grizel to sic a lang kyte clung chiel as yon! Aih, puir

Grizel! She's gane frae me like a knotless threid."

CHAPTER II
: BARBARA CATANACH
Miss Horn was interrupted by the sound of the latch of the street door,
and sprung from her chair in anger.
"Canna they lat her sleep for five meenutes?" she cried aloud,
forgetting that there was no fear of rousing her any more.--"It'll be Jean
come in frae the pump," she reflected, after a moment's pause; but,
hearing no footstep along the passage to the kitchen, concluded--"It's
no her, for she gangs aboot the hoose like the fore half o' a new shod
cowt;" and went down the stair to see who might have thus presumed to
enter unbidden.
In the kitchen, the floor of which was as white as scrubbing could make
it, and sprinkled with sea sand--under the gaily painted Dutch clock,
which went on ticking as loud as ever, though just below the dead--sat
a woman about sixty years of age, whose plump face to the first glance
looked kindly, to the second, cunning, and to the third, evil. To the last
look the plumpness appeared unhealthy, suggesting a doughy
indentation to the finger, and its colour also was pasty. Her deep set,
black bright eyes, glowing from under the darkest of eyebrows, which
met over her nose, had something of a fascinating influence--so much
of it that at a first interview one was