Chapter 15

THE MINISTER BEWITCHED--SECOND SERMON AGAINST WOMEN.

To Nanny it was a dizzying experience to sit at the head of her
own table, and, with assumed calmness, invite the minister not to
spare the loaf-bread. Babbie's prattle, and even Gavin's answers,
were but an indistinct noise to her, to be as little regarded, in
the excitement of watching whether Mr. Dishart noticed that there
was a knife for the butter, as the music of the river by a man who
is catching trout. Every time Gavin's cup went to his lips Nanny
calculated (correctly) how much he had drunk, and yet, when the
right moment arrived, she asked in the English voice that is
fashionable at ceremonies, "if his cup was toom."

Perhaps it was well that Nanny had these matters to engross her,
for though Gavin spoke freely, he was saying nothing of lasting
value, and some of his remarks to the Egyptian, if preserved for
the calmer contemplation of the morrow, might have seemed
frivolous to himself. Usually his observations were scrambled for,
like ha'pence at a wedding, but to-day they were only for one
person. Infected by the Egyptian's high spirits, Gavin had laid
aside the minister with his hat, and what was left was only a
young man. He who had stamped his feet at thought of a soldier's
cloak now wanted to be reminded of it. The little minister, who
used to address himself in terms of scorn every time he wasted an
hour, was at present dallying with a teaspoon. He even laughed
boisterously, flinging back his head, and little knew that behind
Nanny's smiling face was a terrible dread, because his chair had
once given way before.

Even though our thoughts are not with our company, the mention of
our name is a bell to which we usually answer. Hearing hers Nanny
started.

"You can tell me, Nanny," the Egyptian had said, with an arch look
at the minister. "Oh, Nanny, for shame! How can you expect to
follow our conversation when you only listen to Mr. Dishart?"

"She is saying, Nanny," Gavin broke in, almost gaily for a
minister, "that she saw me recently wearing a cloak. You know I
have no such thing."

"Na," Nanny answered artlessly, "you have just the thin brown coat
wi' the braid round it, forby the ane you have on the now."

"You see," Gavin said to Babbie, "I could not have a new
neckcloth, not to speak of a cloak, without everybody in Thrums
knowing about it. I dare say Nanny knows all about the braid, and
even what it cost."

"Three bawbees the yard at Kyowowy's shop," replied Nanny,
promptly, "and your mother sewed it on. Sam'l Fairweather has the
marrows o't on his top coat. No that it has the same