166 The Little Minister

cloak: because it’s no worth his while. I'll tell
you wha your friend had seen. It would be
somebody that would like to be Mrs. Dishart.
There’s a hantle o’ that kind. Ay, lassie, but
wishing winna land a woman in a manse.”

“Tt was one of the soldiers,” Babbie said,
“who told me about her. He said Mr. Dishart
- introduced her to him.”

“ Sojers!” cried Nanny. “I could never thole
the name o’ them. Sanders in his young days
hankered after joining them, and so he would, if
it hadna been for the fechting. Ay, and now
they’ve ta’en him awa to the gaol, and sworn
lies about him. Dinna put any faith in sojers,
lassie.”

“JT was told,’ Babbie went on, “that the
minister’s wife was rather like me.”

“ Heaven forbid!” ejaculated Nanny, so fer-
vently that all three suddenly sat back from the
table.

“J’m no meaning,” Nanny continued, hur-
riedly, fearing to offend her benefactress, “ but
what you’re the bonniest tid I ever saw out o’ an
almanack. But you would ken Mr. Dishart’s
contempt for bonny faces if you had heard his
sermon against them. I didna hear it mysel’, for
I’m no Auld Licht, but it did the work o’ the
town for an aucht days.”

If Nanny had not taken her eyes off Gavin for
the moment she would have known that he was
now anxious to change the topic. Babbie saw it,
and became suspicious. '

“When did he preach against the wiles of
women, Nanny?”