“I thoucht nae ill o’ ’t,” returned Malcolm.
“Weel, _I div_,” retorted Peter.
“Then perhaps you are wrong,” said Malcolm, “for charity thinketh no
evil. You wouldn’t stay to see the thing out.”
“There ye are at yer English again! an’ misgugglin’ Scriptur’ wi’ ’t,
an’ a’ this upo’ Setterday nicht--maist the Sawbath day! Weel, I ha’e
aye h’ard ’at Lon’on was an awfu’ place, but I little thoucht the verra
air o’ ’t wad sae sune turn an honest laad like Ma’colm MacPhail intill
a scoffer. But maybe it’s the markis o’ ’im, an’ no the muckle toon
’at’s made the differ. Ony gait, I’m thinkin’ it’ll be aboot time for
me to be gauin’ hame.”
Malcolm was vexed with himself, and both disappointed and troubled at
the change which had come over his friend, and threatened to destroy
the life-long relation between them; his feelings therefore held him
silent. Peter concluded that _the marquis_ was displeased, and it
clenched his resolve to go.
“What w’y am I to win hame, my lord?” he said, when they had walked
some distance without word spoken.
“By the Aberdeen smack,” returned Malcolm. “She sails on Tuesday.
I will see you on board. You must take young Davy with you, for I
wouldn’t have him here after you are gone. There will be nothing for
him to do.”
“Ye’re unco ready to pairt wi’ ’s noo ’at ye ha’e nae mair use for ’s,”
said Peter.
“No sae ready as ye seem to pairt wi’ yer chairity,” said Malcolm, now
angry too.
“Ye see Annie ’ill be thinkin’ lang,” said Peter, softening a little.
No more angry words passed between them, but neither did any thoroughly
cordial ones, and they parted at the stairs in mutual, though, with
such men, it could not be more than superficial estrangement.
CHAPTER XVIII.
LORD LIFTORE.
The chief cause of Malcolm’s anxiety had been, and perhaps still was,
Lord Liftore. In his ignorance of Mr Lenorme there might lie equal
cause with him, but he knew such evil of the other that his whole
nature revolted against the thought of his marrying his sister. At
Lossie he had made himself agreeable to her, and now, if not actually
living in the same house, he was there at all hours of the day.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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