The faimily's rather sair upo' her.

But I canna haud her oot o' the chop for a' that.

She's like mysel'-- she wad aye be turnin' a bawbee.

But what are ye gaein to do yersel', Marget ?" "I'm gaein to my uncle and aunt--auld John Peterson and his wife.
They're gey and frail noo, and they want somebody to luik efter them." "Than ye're weel provided for; Praise be thankit! Marget." "Ow, ay; nae doot," replied Marget, with bitterness, of which Bruce took no notice.
"And what's to come o' the bairnie ?" pursued he.
"I maun jist get some dacent auld body i' the toon to tak' her in, and lat her gang to the schuil.

It's time.