As soon as she was gone, Bruce proceeded to make himself agreeable to
Tibbie by retailing all the bits of gossip he could think of. While
thus engaged, he kept peering earnestly about the room from door to
chimney, turning his head on every side, and surveying as he turned it.
Even Tibbie perceived, from the changes in the sound of his voice, that
he was thus occupied.
"Sae your auld landlord's deid, Tibbie!" he said at last.
"Ay, honest man! He had aye a kin' word for a poor body."
"Ay, ay, nae doobt. But what wad ye say gin I tell't ye that I had
boucht the bit hoosie, and was yer new landlord, Tibbie?"
"I wad say that the door-sill wants men'in', to haud the snaw oot; an'
the bit hoosie's sair in want o' new thack. The verra cupples'll be
rottit awa' or lang."
"Weel that's verra rizzonable, nae doobt, gin a' be as ye say."
"Be as I say, Robert Bruce?"
"Ay, ay; ye see ye're nae a'thegither like ither fowk. I dinna mean ony
offence, ye ken, Tibbie; but ye haena the sicht o' yer een."
"Maybe I haena the feelin' o' my auld banes, aither, Maister Bruce!
Maybe I'm ower blin' to hae the rheumatize; or to smell the auld weet
thack whan there's been a scatterin' o' snaw or a drappy o' rain o' the
riggin'!"
"I didna want to anger ye, Tibbie.
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