The Entail; or, The Lairds of Grippy
Howsever, my bonny dawty, we'll no cast out for a' that; for if ye'll just marry me, and I'm sure ye'll no get any body that can like you half so weel, I'll do anything ye bid me, as sure's death I will--there's my hand, Betty Bodle, I will; and I'll buy you the bravest satin gown in a' Glasgow, wi' far bigger flowers on't than on any ane in a' Mrs. Bailie Nicol Jarvie's aught.