"I do not know," answered John Ramsay, quickly; "I am not so nice in my scanning as you are, George; but one thing I do know, which is, that I do not love to see my lord and master made to look like a fool in his own court by one of his own servants. If there be nothing evil in this familiarity but that, it is surely bad enough; but if there be more, they had better not let me see fair signs of it; for I would drive my dagger into his heart as readily as his grandfather drove his into Rizzio's." "Fie, fie! You are too rash, boy," said Sir George Ramsay; "neither zeal nor courage are worth much, John, unless tempered by discretion; and again I say, you give too much way to passion, and suffer it to give a colour to all you see; just as you used to quarrel with Alexander Ruthven, when a boy, without any reasonable cause, so do you now suspect and dislike him as a man without just grounds." "I never loved him," answered the other, moodily. "I dislike all the Ruthvens--I always have disliked them, with their stately grandeur and proud airs." "Because you are proud yourself, John," said his brother; "and because your pride has been somewhat offensive at times, they have not liked you. Did you ever see any of them show pride towards me?" "Because you are not proud enough," replied the young man, sharply. "I am as proud as any man ought to be," replied his brother, in a reproving tone; "too proud to do a base action--too proud to give way to a grovelling thought--too proud to entertain a mean suspicion. I am proud, too, of my name and race, proud of the deeds of my ancestors, and proud enough, I trust, never to tarnish their renown by any unworthy act of their descendant." With one of those impulses which move hasty men, the youth seized his brother's hand and pressed it warmly. "I know you are, Dalhousie," he said; "forgive me, my dear brother. I may be somewhat too proud; but I do not ever really doubt that you are proud enough for all that is noble, too proud for anything that is mean. But you have not lately seen so much of what is passing at the court as I have; and believe me the sight is not pleasant." "Well, then, John, stay another night away from it," answered his brother; "you acknowledge that the king does not expect you till Friday. One day will take you to Edinburgh and to Stirling, ride as slow as you will." "Be it as you wish," replied John Ramsay, "but I must set out to-morrow somewhat early.--Hark! There are horses' feet coming along the frosty road. Who can it be, I wonder, at this late hour?" "Some of our good cousins come to rest for the night," said Sir George Ramsay, with a smile; "it can be no one on business of much consequence, by the slowness of the horses' tread."