Let him have "the benefit of
the doubt" in this world. In the next, if all tales be true, there is no
such thing.
So Janet Balchrystie dwelt alone in the white "but an' ben" at the back
of the Long Wood of Barbrax. The factor gave her notice, but the laird,
who was not accounted by his neighbours to be very wise, because he
did needlessly kind things, told the factor to let the lassie bide, and
delivered to herself with his own handwriting to the effect that Janet
Balchrystie, in consideration of her lonely condition, was to be allowed
the house for her lifetime, a cow's grass, and thirty pound sterling in
the year as a charge on the estate. He drove down the cow himself, and
having stalled it in the byre, he informed her of the fact over the yard
dyke by word of mouth, for he never could be induced to enter her door.
He was accounted to be "gey an' queer," save by those who had tried
making a bargain with him. But his farmers liked him, knowing him to be
an easy man with those who had been really unfortunate, for he knew to
what the year's crops of each had amounted, to a single chalder and head
of nowt.
Deep in her heart Janet Balchrystie cherished a great ambition.
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