“Div ye think I cud bide to be paid for a turn till a neebor, lat alane the liftin’ o’ a buik till a leddy?” said Malcolm with keen mortification. “That wad be to despise mysel’ frae keel to truck. I like to be paid for my wark, an’ I like to be paid weel: but no a plack by sic-like (_beyond such_) sall stick to my loof (_palm_). It _can_ be no offence to gie ye back yer half-croon, my leddy.” And again he offered the coin. “I don’t in the least see why, on your own principles, you shouldn’t take the money,” said the girl, with more than the coldness of an uninterested umpire. “You worked for it, I’m sure--first accompanying me home in such a storm, and then finding the book and bringing it back all the way to the house!” “’Deed, my leddy, sic a doctrine wad tak a’ grace oot o’ the earth! What wad this life be worth gien a’ was to be peyed for? I wad cut my throat afore I wad bide in sic a warl’.--Tak yer half-croon, my leddy,” he concluded, in a tone of entreaty. But the energetic outburst was sufficing, in such her mood, only to the disgust of Lady Florimel. “Do anything with the money you please; only go away, and don’t plague me about it,” she said freezingly. “What can I du wi’ what I wadna pass throu’ my fingers?” said Malcolm with the patience of deep disappointment. “Give it to some poor creature: you know some one who would be glad of it, I daresay.” “I ken mony ane, my leddy, wham it wad weel become yer ain bonny han’ to gie ’t till; but I’m no gaein’ to tak’ credit fer a leeberality that wad ill become me.” “You can tell how you earned it.” “And profess mysel’ disgraced by takin’ a reward frae a born leddy for what I wad hae dune for ony beggar wife i’ the lan’. Na, na, my leddy.” “Your services are certainly flattering, when you put me on a level with any beggar in the country!” “In regaird o’ sic service, my leddy: ye ken weel eneuch what I mean. Obleege me by takin’ back yer siller.” “How dare you ask me to take back what I once gave?” “Ye cudna hae kent what ye was doin’ whan ye gae ’t, my leddy. Tak it back, an tak a hunnerweicht aff o’ my hert.” He actually mentioned his heart!--was it to be borne by a girl in Lady Florimel’s mood? “I beg you will not annoy me,” she said, muffling her anger in folds of distance, and again sought her book. Malcolm looked at her for a moment, then turned his face towards the sea, and for another moment stood silent. Lady Florimel glanced up, but Malcolm was unaware of her movement. He lifted his hand, and looked at the half-crown gleaming on his palm; then, with a sudden poise of his body, and a sudden fierce action of his arm, he sent the coin, swift with his heart’s repudiation, across the sands into the tide. Ere it struck the water he had turned, and, with long stride but low-bent head, walked away. A pang shot to Lady Florimel’s heart. “Malcolm!” she cried. He turned instantly, came slowly back, and stood erect and silent before her.