“Ah! but I meant English,” said Clementina, whose thoughts were a little astray. Then laughing at herself she explained:--“I mean, can he read aloud? I put the last of the Waverley novels in the box we shall have to-morrow, or the next day at latest, I hope: and I was wondering whether he could read the Scotch--as it ought to be read. I have never heard it spoken, and I don’t know how to imagine it.” “We can try him,” said Florimel. “It will be great fun anyhow. He is _such_ a character! You will be _so_ amused with the remarks he will make!” “But can you venture to let him talk to you?” “If you ask him to read, how will you prevent him? Unfortunately he has thoughts, and they _will_ out.” “Is there no danger of his being rude?” “If speaking his mind about anything in the book be rudeness, he will most likely be rude. Any other kind of rudeness is as impossible to Malcolm as to any gentleman in the land.” “How can you be so sure of him?” said Clementina, a little anxious as to the way in which her friend regarded the young man. “My father was--yes, I may say so--attached to him--so much so that he--I can’t quite say what--but something like made him promise never to leave my service. And this I know for myself, that not once, ever since that man came to us, has he done a selfish thing or one to be ashamed of. I could give you proof after proof of his devotion.” Florimel’s warmth did not reassure Clementina; and her uneasiness wrought to the prejudice of Malcolm. She was never quite so generous towards human beings as towards animals. She could not be depended on for justice except to people in trouble, and then she was very apt to be unjust to those who troubled them. “I would not have you place too much confidence in your Admirable Crichton of menials, Florimel,” she said. “There is something about him I cannot get at the bottom of. Depend upon it, a man who can be cruel would betray on the least provocation.” Florimel smiled superior--as she had good reason to do; but Clementina did not understand the smile, and therefore did not like it. She feared the young fellow had already gained too much influence over his mistress. “Florimel, my love,” she said, “listen to me. Your experience is not so ripe as mine. That man is not what you think him. One day or other he will, I fear, make himself worse than disagreeable. How _can_ a cruel man be unselfish?” “I don’t think him cruel at all. But then I haven’t such a soft heart for animals as you. We should think it silly in Scotland. You wouldn’t teach a dog manners at the expense of a howl. You would let him be a nuisance rather than give him a cut with a whip. What a nice mother of children you will make, Clementina! That’s how the children of good people are so often a disgrace to them.”