- Katrina: When you get back I want to talk to you about your responsibilities as a landlord. I've just been to see some of your properties and they're in a terrible state.
- Archie MacDonald: Great! Another conversation to look forward to.
- [first lines]
- Hector: Come on. I'm only obeying orders.
- Archie: Not right now, Father, please.
- Hector: In your very interesting lecture, 'Glenbogle: the business', you said, and I quote, good communications is at the heart of every thriving enterprise. So...
- Archie: When I get back, OK?
- Hector: There's a spot of damp in the wine cellar. Thought it imperative you be informed without delay. Thank you very much.
- Archie: You know what they say: Asking a voter what he thinks about politicians is a bit like asking lampposts what they think about dogs.
- [last lines]
- Archie: I suppose in a way the other way would have been easier. The decision was made for me: burn my boats in London and settle here. But now I have to decide for myself. What to do about me and Justine. What to do about me and you.
- Katrina: Oh. Is there such a thing as me and you?
- [they look at each other for a moment then lean in to kiss before starting at the sound of a braking car]
- Archie: Justine!
- Justine: [comes over] I had to come. I felt so desolate. I can't lose you, Archie. Maybe I can change. Maybe I can come and live here, with you. Make our lives here. What do you think?
- Molly MacDonald: Happy anniversary, you sentimental old fool.
- Hector: I wanted to buy you a ruby, but the fireworks were cheaper.
- Archie MacDonald: Archie, listen, you still haven't resolved this business about your tenants. Mrs. MacLean's kitchen's in an awful state.
- Katrina: Can I just say...
- Archie MacDonald: She's got a damp patch the size of the North Sea.
- Katrina: A damp patch? I'll show you a damp patch.
- [drags her off]
- Archie MacDonald: Archie!
- [stops when they turn a corner and view the flooded cellar]
- Archie MacDonald: Archie, this is terrible. What are you going to do?
- Katrina: I dunno. Throw myself into it?
- Archie MacDonald: I hope I'll always have your support, maybe even your respect, despite my status as resident futile relic and pet punchbag.
- Fleming: Well, the sporting site and the paying guests are starting to produce a decent income. You're almost not making a loss. Well done.
- Katrina: Speaking of which, do you know how Golly got his name?
- [Lexie shakes her head]
- Katrina: A woman down the village told me. Apparently one summer years ago, when Hector could afford more staff, Golly took a bonny young lass to a dance, Gay Gordoned the stockings off her, and took her down by the river.
- Lexie: For a kanoodle?
- Katrina: One thing led to another, as they do. She unbuttoned her frock, he undid his... and she was so amazed, so flabbergasted, by what confronted her she cried:
- Katrina, Lexie: GOLLY!
- Lexie: [he shakes pepper on his pork] It *is* seasoned, Hector.
- Molly MacDonald: Archie, perhaps you'd tell your father that it is an insult to the cook to fling condiments on a carefully-prepared dish like that?
- Hector: Archie, would you tell your mother to mind her own business, and keep her elegant nose out of my dinner?
- [sneezes]
- Fleming: I had a brainwave. You know that notion of selling the village, Archie?
- Archie MacDonald: Oh, yeah.
- Fleming: I thought of someone who might give you a good price.
- Hector: What do you mean, "sell the village"?
- Fleming: Another client of the bank. A rather good client, actually.
- Hector: who?
- Fleming: Your friend and neighbor Killwillie.
- Hector: Killwillie?
- Fleming: He said that that land once belonged to *his* family, Mr. MacDonald, until yours stole it with considerable bodily harm in 1588. He wants it back and is happy to pay bigtime for it.
- Hector: Over my dead body!
- Lexie: [setting down wine] That can easily be arranged.
- Hector: Now look h...
- [sneezes again]
- Molly MacDonald: Mr. Fleming, that sounds an excellent idea.
- [Hector flings down his napkin and gets up to storm off]
- Molly MacDonald: Where are you going?
- Hector: The stench of betrayal, has ruined my appetite.
- [sneezes]
- Molly MacDonald: I don't suppose he'll remember. Never does. Sorry, as you were. He did remember our 25th. Even gave me a gift. The collected works of Sir Walter Scott, bound in deerskin. It sadly wasn't properly cured and the dogs tore it to bits one day in a wild, animalistic frenzy.