"Ellabelle had been wedded wife of Angus long enough to know when the
Scotch curse was on him. 'Very well,' she says, though turning her face
to the wall. Angus straightened the eyebrow. 'Like we might have two
now, one of each kind,' says he quite soft, 'you'd name your daughter as
you liked, with perhaps no more than a bit of a suggestion from me, to
be taken or not by you, unless we'd contend amiably about it for a
length of time till we had it settled right as it should be. But a
son--my son--why, look at the chest on him already, projecting outward
like a clock shelf--and you would name him--but no matter! I was
forehanded, thank God.' Oh, you saw plainly that in case a girl ever
come along Ellabelle would have the privilege of naming it anything in
the world she wanted to that Angus thought suitable.
"So that was settled reasonably, and Angus went on showing what to do
with your mine instead of selling it to a shark, and the baby fatted up,
being stall-fed, and Ellabelle got out into the world again, with more
money than ever to spend, but fewer things to buy, because in Wallace
she couldn't think of any more.
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