She was washing up the tea-things, and went on with her work as if she had been in absolute solitude, saving that her countenance could hardly have kept up that expression of injured dignity had such been the case.

Robert plainly saw, to his great concern, that his secret had been discovered in his absence, and that Shargar had been expelled with contumely.
But, with an instinct of facing the worst at once which accompanied him through life, he went straight to his grandmother's parlour.
'Well, grandmamma,' he said, trying to speak as cheerfully as he could.
Grannie's prayers had softened her a little, else she would have been as silent as Betty; for it was from her mistress that Betty had learned this mode of torturing a criminal.

So she was just able to return his greeting in the words, 'Weel, Robert,' pronounced in a finality of tone that indicated she had done her utmost, and had nothing to add.
'Here's a browst (brewage)!' thought Robert to himself; and, still on the principle of flying at the first of mischief he saw--the best mode of meeting it, no doubt--addressed his grandmother at once.

The effort necessary gave a tone of defiance to his words.
'What for willna ye speik to me, grannie ?' he said.

'I'm no a haithen, nor yet a papist.' 'Ye're waur nor baith in ane, Robert.' 'Hoots! ye winna say baith, grannie,' returned Robert, who, even at the age of fourteen, when once compelled to assert himself, assumed a modest superiority.
'Nane o' sic impidence!' retorted Mrs.Falconer.