The Waverley novels, by Sir Walter Scott, complete in 12 vol., printed from the latest English ed., embracing the author's last corrections, prefaces & notes.

464 WAVERL EY NOVELS.
"I am no out o' my mind," said she, "and, sink or swim, I am determined to gang to Lunnon, if I suld beg my way frae door to door -and so
I maun, unless ye wad lend me a small sum to pay my expenses - little
thing will do it; and ye ken my father's a man of substance, and wad see
nae man, far less you, Laird, come to loss by me."
Dumbiedikes, on comprehending the nature of this application, could
scarce trust his ears - he made no answer whatever, but stood with his eyes
riveted on the ground.
"I see ye are no for assisting me, Laird," said Jeanie; " sae fare ye weel
- and gang and see my poor father as aften as ye can - he will be lonely
eneugh now."
" Where is the silly bairn gaun?" said Dumbiedikes; and, laying hold
of her hand, he led her into the house. "It's no that I didna think o't
before," he said, "but it stack in my throat."
Thus speaking to himself, he led her into an old-fashioned parlour, shut
the door behind them, and fastened it with a bolt. While Jeanie, surprised
at this manceuvre, remained as near the door as possible, the Laird quitted
her hand, and pressed upon a spring lock fixed in an oak panel in the
wainscot, which instantly slipped aside. An iron strong-box was discovered
in a recess of the wall; he opened this also, and pulling out two or three
drawers, showed that they were filled with leathern bags full of gold and
silver coin.
" This is my bank, Jeanie, lass," he said, looking first at her and then at
the treasure, with an air of great complacency,-" nane o' your goldsmith's
bills for me, - they bring folk to ruin."
Then, suddenly changing his tone, he resolutely said, - "Jeanie, I will
make ye Lady Dumbiedikes afore the sun sets, and ye may ride to Lunnon
in your ain coach, if ye like."
"Na, Laird," said Jeanie, " that can never be — my father's grief — my
sister's situation-the discredit to you —"
"That's my business," said Dumbiedikes; "ye wad say naething about
that if ye werena a fule-and yet I like ye the better for't-ae wise body's
eneugh in the married state. But if your heart's ower fu', take what siller
will serve ye, and let it be when ye come back again -as gude syne as
sune."
"But, Laird," said Jeanie, who felt the necessity of being explicit with
so extraordinary a lover, " I like another man better than you, and I canna
marry ye."
" Another man better than me, Jeanie!" said Dumbiedikes - " how is
that possible? It's no possible, woman-ye hae ken'd me sae lang."
" Ay but, Laird," said Jeanie, with persevering simplicity, "I hae ken'd
him langer."
"Langer! It's no possible!" exclaimed the poor Laird. "It canna be;
ye were born on the land. O Jeanie woman, ye haena lookit —ye haena
seen the half o' the gear." He drew out another drawer — "A' gowd,
Jeanie, and there's bands for siller lent- And the rental book, Jeanie -
clear three hunder sterling —deil a wadset, heritable band, or burden-Ye
haena lookit at them, woman - And then my mother's wardrobe, and my
grandmother's forby-silk gowns wad stand on their ends, their pearlin-lace
as fine as spiders' webs, and rings and ear-rings to the boot of a' that —
they are a' in the chamber of deas — Oh, Jeanie, gang up the stair and
look at them!"
But Jeanie held fast her integrity, though beset with temptations, which
perhaps the Laird of Dumbiedikes did not greatly err in supposing were
those most affecting to her sex.
" It canna be, Laird - I have said it - and I canna break my word till
him, if ye wad gie me the haill barony of Dalkeith, and Lugton into the
bargain."