The
interjections of "Poor fellow,"--"Poor George," which escaped in
whispers, and betwixt sighs, were the only sounds with which she
interrupted the story. When it was finished she made a long pause.
"And this was his advice?" were the first words she uttered.
"Just sic as I hae tell'd ye," replied her sister.
"And he wanted you to say something to yon folks, that wad save my young
life?"
"He wanted," answered Jeanie, "that I suld be man-sworn."
"And you tauld him," said Effie, "that ye wadna hear o' coming between me
and the death that I am to die, and me no aughten year auld yet?"
"I told him," replied Jeanie, who now trembled at the turn which her
sister's reflection seemed about to take, "that I daured na swear to an
untruth."
"And what d'ye ca' an untruth?" said Effie, again showing a touch of her
former spirit--"Ye are muckle to blame, lass, if ye think a mother would,
or could, murder her ain bairn--Murder!--I wad hae laid down my life just
to see a blink o' its ee!"
"I do believe," said Jeanie, "that ye are as innocent of sic a purpose as
the new-born babe itsell."
"I am glad ye do me that justice," said Effie, haughtily; "ifs whiles the
faut of very good folk like you, Jeanie, that, they think a' the rest of
the warld are as bad as the warst temptations can make them.
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