She drank in this hackneyed compliment like wine, and it glowed in her veins.
'But I'm saying, Dand'—she came nearer him—'I'm for the muirs. I must have a braith of air. If Clem was to be speiring for me, try and quaiet him, will ye no?'
'What way?' said Dandie. 'I ken but the ae way, and that's leein'. I'll say ye had a sair heid, if ye like.'
'But I havena,' she objected.
'I daursay no,' he returned. 'I said I would say ye had; and if ye like to nay-say me when ye come back, it'll no mateerially maitter, for my chara'ter's clean gane a'ready past reca'.'
'O, Dand, are ye a leear?' she asked, lingering.
'Folks say sae,' replied the bard.
'Wha says sae?' she pursued.
'Them that should ken the best,' he responded. 'The lassies, for ane.'
'But, Dand, you would never lee to me?' she asked.
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