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"I knew there was a special
mandate respecting one's particularly venerable relations, with a view
to self-guidance in case they should prove troublesome, like Britta's
good grand-mamma. What a frightfully picturesque mouthing old lady she
is!"
"She is _la petroleuse_ of Norway!" exclaimed Duprez. "She would make an
admirable dancer in the Carmagnole!"
Macfarlane, who had preserved a discreet silence throughout the whole
scene, here looked up.
"She's just a screech-owl o' mistaken piety," he said. "She minds me o'
a glowerin' auld warlock of an aunt o' mine in Glasgie, wha sits in her
chair a' day wi' ae finger on the Bible. She says she's gaun straight to
heaven by special invitation o' the Lord, leavin' a' her blood relations
howlin' vainly after her from their roastin' fires down below. Ma
certes! she'll give ye a good rousin' curse if ye like! She's cursed me
ever since I can remember her,--cursed me in and out from sunrise to
sunset,--but I'm no the worse for't as yet,--an' it's dootful whether
she's any the better.


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