Why, Archie and I were at the High School together, and we've been to college together, and we were going to the Bar together, when--you know! Dear, dear me! what a pity that was! A life spoiled, a fine young fellow as good as buried here in the wilderness with rustics; and all for what?
A frolic, silly, if you like, but no more.

God, how good your scones are, Mrs.Elliott!" "They're no mines, it was the lassie made them," said Kirstie; "and, saving your presence, there's little sense in taking the Lord's name in vain about idle vivers that you fill your kyte wi'." "I daresay you're perfectly right, ma'am," quoth the imperturbable Frank.
"But as I was saying, this is a pitiable business, this about poor Archie; and you and I might do worse than put our heads together, like a couple of sensible people, and bring it to an end.

Let me tell you, ma'am, that Archie is really quite a promising young man, and in my opinion he would do well at the Bar.

As for his father, no one can deny his ability, and I don't fancy any one would care to deny that he has the deil's own temper--" "If you'll excuse me, Mr.Innes, I think the lass is crying on me," said Kirstie, and flounced from the room.
"The damned, cross-grained, old broomstick!" ejaculated Innes.
In the meantime, Kirstie had escaped into the kitchen, and before her vassal gave vent to her feelings.
"Here, ettercap! Ye'll have to wait on yon Innes! I canna haud myself in.

'Puir Erchie!' I'd 'puir Erchie' him, if I had my way! And Hermiston with the deil's ain temper! God, let him take Hermiston's scones out of his mouth first.