'
'And you are as white as a rag, too,' she exclaimed, 'and can
hardly stand! Here is my shawl, sit down upon it here in the
corner, and I will beat your eggs. See, I have brought a fork too;
I should have been a good person to take care of Jacobites or
Covenanters in old days! You shall have more to eat this evening;
Ronald is to bring it you from town. We have money enough,
although no food that we can call our own. Ah, if Ronald and I
kept house, you should not be lying in this shed! He admires you
so much.'
'My dear friend,' said I, 'for God's sake do not embarrass me with
more alms. I loved to receive them from that hand, so long as they
were needed; but they are so no more, and whatever else I may lack-
-and I lack everything--it is not money.' I pulled out my sheaf of
notes and detached the top one: it was written for ten pounds, and
signed by that very famous individual, Abraham Newlands. 'Oblige
me, as you would like me to oblige your brother if the parts were
reversed, and take this note for the expenses. I shall need not
only food, but clothes.'
'Lay it on the ground,' said she. 'I must not stop my beating.'
'You are not offended?' I exclaimed.
She answered me by a look that was a reward in itself, and seemed
to imply the most heavenly offers for the future.
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