The Entail; or, The Lairds of Grippy
'I'm sure I was na gaun to do you ony harm,' was the reply;--'no, as sure's death, Betty, I would rather cut my finger than do you ony scaith, for I like you so weel--I canna tell you how weel; but, if ye'll tak me, I'll mak you the Leddy o' the Plealands in a jiffy, and my mother says that my father will gie me a hundred pound to buy you parapharnauls and new plenishing.'