"
"I didna deserve this frae ye, Effie," said her sister, sobbing, and
feeling at once the injustice of the reproach, and compassion for the
state of mind which dictated it.
"Maybe no, sister," said Effie. "But ye are angry because I love
Robertson--How can I help loving him, that loves me better than body and
soul baith?--Here he put his life in a niffer, to break the prison to let
me out; and sure am I, had it stude wi' him as it stands wi' you"--Here
she paused and was silent.
"O, if it stude wi' me to save ye wi' risk of my life!" said Jeanie.
"Ay, lass," said her sister, "that's lightly said, but no sae lightly
credited, frae ane that winna ware a word for me; and if it be a wrang
word, ye'll hae time eneugh to repent o't."
"But that word is a grievous sin, and it's a deeper offence when it's a
sin wilfully and presumptuously committed."
"Weel, weel, Jeanie," said Effie, "I mind a' about the sins o'
presumption in the questions--we'll speak nae mair about this matter, and
ye may save your breath to say your carritch and for me, I'll soon hae
nae breath to waste on onybody."
"I must needs say," interposed Ratcliffe, "that it's d--d hard, when
three words of your mouth would give the girl the chance to nick Moll
Blood,* that you make such scrupling about rapping** to them.
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