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.

'358 WAVERLEY NOVELS.
"Nae gate," answered Effie.
" And wha was that parted wi' you at the stile?"
"Naebody," replied Effie, once more.
"Nae gate? - Naebody? - I wish it mnay be a right gate, and a right
body, that keeps folk out sae late at e'en, Effie."
"What needs ye be aye speering then at folk?" retorted Effie. "I'm
sure, if ye'll ask nae questions, I'll tell ye nae lees. I never ask what
brings the Laird of Dumbiedikes glowering here like a wull-cat, (only his
een's greener, and no sae gleg,) day after day, till we are a' like to gaunt
our chafts aff."
"Because ye ken very weel he comes to see our father," said Jeanie, in
answer to this pert remark.
" And Dominie Butler —does he come to see our father, that's sa taen wi'
his Latin words?" said Effie, delighted to find that, by carrying the war
into the enemy's country, she could divert the threatened attack upon herself, and with the petulance of youth she pursued her triumph over her
prudent elder sister. She looked at her with a sly air, in which there was
something like irony, as she chanted, in a low but marked tone, a scrap of
an old Scotch song"Through the kirkyard
I met wi' the Laird,
The. silly puir body he said me nae harm;
But just ere'twas dark,
I met wi' the clerk —— "
Here the songstress stopped, looked full at her sister, and, observing the
tears gather in her eyes, she suddenly flung her arms round her neck, and
kissed them away. Jeanie, though hurt and displeased, was unable to
resist the caresses of this untaught child of nature, whose good and evil
seemed to flow rather from impulse than from reflection. But as she returned the sisterly kiss, in token of perfect reconciliation, she could not
suppress the gentle reproof- "Effie, if ye will learn fule sangs, ye might
make a kinder use of them."
"And so I might, Jeanie," continued the girl, clinging to her sister's
neck; " and I wish I had never learned ane o' them- and I wish we had
never come here — and I wish my tongue had been blistered or I had
vexed ye."
"Never mind that, Effie," replied the affectionate sister; "I canna be
muckle vexed wi' ony thing ye say to me -but 0 dinna vex our father!"
"I will not - I will not," replied Eflie; "and if there were as mony
dances the morn's night as there are merry dancers in the north firmament
on a frosty e'en, I winna budge an inch to gang near ane o' them."
"Dance!" echoed Jeanie Deans in astonishment. " O, Effie, what could
take ye to a dance?"
It is very possible, that, in the communicative mood into which the Lily
of St. Leonard's was now surprised, she might have given her sister her
unreserved confidence, and saved me the pain of telling a melancholy tale;
but at the moment the word dance was uttered, it reached the ear of old
David Deans, who had turned the corner of the house, and came upon his
daughters ere they were aware of his presence. The word prelate, or even
the word pope, could hardly have produced so appalling an effect upon
David's ear; for, of all exercises, that of dancing, which he termed a vo-.luntary and regular fit of distraction, he deemed most destructive of serious
thoughts, and the readiest inlet to all sorts of licentiousness; and he accounted the encouraging, and even permitting, assemblies or meetings,
whether among those of high or low degree, for this fantastic and absurd
purpose, or for that of dramatic representations, as one of the most flagrant
proofs of defection and causes of wrath. The pronouncing of the word
dance by his own daughters, and at his own door, now drove him beyond.
the verge of patience. "Dance!" he exclaimed. "Dance - dance, said