Mr.Sclater's main difficulty was with Gibbie himself.
At first he laughed at the absurdity of his going away from his father and mother and the sheep.

They told him he was Sir Gilbert Galbraith.

He answered on his slate, as well as by signs which Janet at least understood perfectly, that he had told them so, and had been so all the time, "and what differ dos that mak ?" he added.
Mr.Sclater told him he was--or would be, at least, he took care to add, when he came of age--a rich man as well as a baronet.
"Writch men," wrote Gibbie, "dee as they like, and Ise bide." Mr.Sclater told him it was only poor boys who could do as they pleased, for the law looked after boys like him, so that, when it came into their hands, they might be capable of using their money properly.

Almost persuaded at length that he had no choice, that he could no longer be his own master, until he was one and twenty, he turned and looked at Janet, his eyes brimful of tears.

She gave him a little nod.