"But I can't imagine what business!" he reiterated.
"I suppose it will be HIS business," retorted the austere Kirstie.
He turned to her with that happy brightness that made the charm of his
disposition, and broke into a peal of healthy and natural laughter.
"Well played, Mrs. Elliott!" he cried; and the housekeeper's face
relaxed into the shadow of an iron smile. "Well played indeed!" said
he. "But you must not be making a stranger of me like that. Why,
Archie and I were at the High School together, and we've been to college
together, and we were going to the Bar together, when - you know! Dear,
dear me! what a pity that was! A life spoiled, a fine young fellow as
good as buried here in the wilderness with rustics; and all for what? A
frolic, silly, if you like, but no more. God, how good your scones are,
Mrs. Elliott!"
"They're no mines, it was the lassie made them," said Kirstie; "and,
saving your presence, there's little sense in taking the Lord's name in
vain about idle vivers that you fill your kyte wi'.
Pages:
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188