The Meeting Place

From her own cottage the smoke was rising in plentiful volume through the
white wide chimney. She did not know of Janet Caird's removal, and
supposed she would have to parry all her old impertinences and
complaints. When she opened the door Mysie, who was stooping over the
fire toasting a cake, turned her head; then she lifted herself and dropped
a courtesy.

"I am only Maggie Promoter, Mysie. Is Janet Caird sick?"

"Why, Maggie! I'd never hae kent you, lassie! Come to the fire, for it is
raw and cold--I'm glad I had the fire kindled, and the kettle boiling--you
can hae your breakfast as soon as you like it."

"I'll hae it the noo, Mysie." She fell at once into her old speech, and as
she removed her bonnet and mantle asked again, "Is Aunt Janet sick?"

"I dinna ken, nor I dinna care much, either. She's gane awa' frae
Pittenloch, and Pittenloch had a gude riddance o' her."

"Gane!"

"Ay; when your brother Davie cam' here, mair than a year syne, he just bid
her pack her kist, and he and Troll Winans took her at daylight next morn
to whar' she cam' frae. Elder Mackelvine made a grand exhort in the next
meeting anent slandering folks; for Janet Caird was a gude text for it;
and Kirsty Buchan said, it was a' the gude Pittenloch e'er got oot o'
her."

"David was here then?"

"Ay, he was here. Didna ye ken that?"

"Was there ony ither body here?"