The Entail; or, The Lairds of Grippy
From that moment his artless affections took another direction; he immediately quitted the death-room, and, going to the nursery where the infant lay asleep in the nurse's lap, he contemplated it for some time, and then, with a cheerful and happy look and tone, said,--'It's a wee Betty Bodle; and it's my Betty Bodle noo.'