'
'I wis that may be true, laddie. But I carena hoo ye put it,'
returned his grandmother, bewildered no doubt with this outburst,
'sae be that ye put him first an' last an' i' the mids' o' a' thing,
an' say wi' a' yer hert, "His will be dune!"'
'Wi' a' my hert, "His will be dune," grannie,' responded Robert.
'Amen, amen. And noo, laddie, duv ye think there's ony likliheid
that yer father 's still i' the body? I dream aboot him whiles sae
lifelike that I canna believe him deid. But that's a' freits
(superstitions).'
'Weel, grannie, I haena the least assurance. But I hae the mair
houp. Wad ye ken him gin ye saw him?'
'Ken him!' she cried; 'I wad ken him gin he had been no to say four,
but forty days i' the sepulchre! My ain Anerew! Hoo cud ye speir
sic a queston, laddie?'
'He maun be sair changed, grannie. He maun be turnin' auld by this
time.'
'Auld! Sic like 's yersel, laddie.--Hoots, hoots! ye're richt. I
am forgettin'. But nanetheless wad I ken him.'
'I wis I kent what he was like. I saw him ance--hardly twise, but
a' that I min' upo' wad stan' me in ill stead amo' the streets o'
Lonnon.'
'I doobt that,' returned Mrs. Falconer--a form of expression rather
oddly indicating sympathetic and somewhat regretful agreement with
what has been said. 'But,' she went on, 'I can lat ye see a pictur'
o' 'im, though I doobt it winna shaw sae muckle to you as to me. He
had it paintit to gie to yer mother upo' their weddin' day.
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