Intrusion of Haggart 189

Mr. Dishart. In two hours he had confided his
suspicions to Chirsty. In ten minutes she had
filled the house with gossips. Rob arrived to
find them in full cry.

“Ay, Rob,” said Chirsty, genially, for gossip
levels ranks, “ you’re just in time to hear a query
about the minister.”

“Rob,” said the Glen Quharity post, from
whom I subsequently got the story, “ Mr. Dish-
art has fallen in—in—what do you call the
thing, Chirsty ?”

Birse knew well what the thing was called, but
the word is a staggerer to say in company.

“In love,” answered Chirsty, boldly.

“Now we ken what he was doing in the
country yestreen,” said Snecky Hobart, “ the
which has been bothering us sair.”

“The manse is fu’ o’ the flowers she sends
him,” said Tibbie Craik. ‘‘Jean’s at her wits’-
end to ken whaur to put them a’.”

“Wha is she?”

It was Rob Dow who spoke. All saw he had
been drinking, or they might have wondered at
his vehemence. As it was, everybody looked
at every other body, and then everybody sighed.

“‘ Ay, wha is she?” repeated several.

““T see you ken nothing about her,” said Rob,
much relieved ; and he then lapsed into silence.

“We ken a’ about her,” said Snecky, “ except
just wha she is. Ay, that’s what we canna bot-
tom. Maybe you could guess, Tammas?”

“Maybe I could, Sneck,’ Haggart replied,
cautiously ; “ but on that point I offer no opinion.

“If she bides on the Kaims road,” said Tibbie