An' gien he binna, there's ane 'at is, an' likesna sweirin'." "I beg yer pardon, auntie, but it's jist provokin'!" returned Fergus, and therewith recounted the tale of his night's watch, omitting mention only of his feelings throughout the vigil.
As soon as he had had his breakfast, he went to carry his report to Glashruach.
The laird was vexed, and told him he must sleep well before night, and watch to better purpose.
The next night, Fergus's terror returned in full force; but he watched thoroughly notwithstanding, and when his aunt entered, she found him there, and her kitchen in a mess.

He had caught no brownie, it was true, but neither had a stroke of her work been done.

The floor was unswept; not a dish had been washed; it was churning-day, but the cream stood in the jar in the dairy, not the butter in the pan on the kitchen-dresser.

Jean could not quite see the good or the gain of it.

She had begun to feel like a lady, she said to herself, and now she must tuck up her sleeves and set to work as before.