"Three a penny, sirr; they are no plenty the day," added she, in smooth
tones that carried conviction.

(Little liar; they were selling six a penny everywhere.)

"Saunders, buy them all, and be ever so long about it; count them, or
some nonsense."

"He's daft! he's daft! Oh, ye ken, Jean, an Ennglishman and a lorrd, twa
daft things thegither, he could na' miss the road. Coont them, lassie."

"Come away, Sandy, till I count them till ye," said Jean.

Saunders and Jean disappeared.

Business being out of sight, curiosity revived.

"An' what brings ye here from London, if ye please?" recommenced the fair
inquisitor.

"You have a good countenance; there is something in your face. I could
find it in my heart to tell you, but I should bore you."

"De'el a fear! Bore me, bore me! wheat's thaat, I wonder?"

"What is your name, madam? Mine is Ipsden."

"They ca' me Christie Johnstone."

"Well, Christie Johnstone, I am under the doctor's hands."