Dowie, however, had his own thoughts on the matter.
"Hoo are ye the nicht, Mr Dow ?" said Robert, who treated him with oily respect, because he was not only acquainted with all Annie's affairs, but was a kind of natural, if not legal, guardian of her and her property.

"And whaur did ye fa' in wi' this stray lammie o' oors ?" "She's been wi' me this lang time," answered Dow, declining, with Scotch instinct, to give an answer, before he understood all the drift of the question.

A Scotchman would always like the last question first.
"She's some ill for rinnin' oot," said Bruce, with soft words addressed to Dow, and a cutting look flung at Annie, "withoot speirin' leave, and we dinna ken whaur she gangs; and that's no richt for lass-bairns." "Never ye min' her, Mr Bruce," replied Dow.

"I ken her better nor you, no meanin' ony offence, seein' she was i' my airms afore she was a week auld.

Lat her gang whaur she likes, and gin she does what she sudna do, I'll tak a' the wyte o' 't." Now there was no great anxiety about Annie's welfare in the mind of Mr or Mrs Bruce.