The same moment he heard Janet's voice in joyful greeting.
"Noo, noo! come awa', laddie," she said.

"Wha wad hae thoucht we wad hae to lea' the rock to win oot o' the water?
We're but waitin' you to gang .-- Come, Robert, we'll awa' doon the hill." She stood in the middle of the room in her best gown, as if she had been going to church, her Bible, a good-sized octavo, under her arm, with a white handkerchief folded round it, and her umbrella in her hand.
"He that believeth shall not make haste," she said, "but he maunna tempt the Lord, aither.

Drink that milk, Gibbie, an' pit a bannock i' yer pooch, an' come awa'." Robert rose from the edge of the bed, staff in hand, ready too.

He also was in his Sunday clothes.

Oscar, who could make no change of attire, but was always ready, and had been standing looking up in his face for the last ten minutes, wagged his tail when he saw him rise, and got out of his way.