"
Somewhat dazed by this sudden turn, and annoyed by the delayed
settlement of the affair, Mr. Traill hastened from the
court-room. As he gained the street he was overtaken by the
messenger with a second note. And there was a still more
surprising turn that sent the landlord off up swarming High
Street, across the bridge, and on to his snug little place of
business, with the face and the heart of a school-boy. When
Bobby, draggled by three days of wet weather, came in for his
dinner, Mr. Traill scanned him critically and in some perplexity.
At the end of the day's work, as Ailie was dropping her quaint
curtsy and giving her adored employer a shy "gude nicht," he had
a sudden thought that made him call her back.
"Did you ever give a bit dog a washing, lassie?"
"Ye mean Bobby, Maister Traill? Nae, I didna." Her eyes sparkled.
"But Tammy's hauded 'im for Maister Brown, an' he says it's
sonsie to gie the bonny wee a washin'."
"Weel, Mr. Brown is fair ill, and there has been foul weather.
Bobby's getting to look like a poor 'gaen aboot' dog. Have him at
the kirkyard gate at a quarter to eight o'clock the morn looking
like a leddy's pet and I'll dance a Highland fling at your
wedding."
"Are ye gangin' to tak' Bobby on a picnic, Maister Traill?"
He answered with a mock solemnity and a twinkle in his eyes that
mystified the little maid. "Nae, lassie; I'm going to tak' him
to a meeting in a braw kirk.
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