But the frown gradually relaxed before Malcolm's modest
but unflinching gaze, and the shadow of a smile slowly usurped its
place. He still kept silent, however.
"Am I to gang or bide, my lord?" repeated Malcolm.
"Can't you wait for an answer?"
"As lang's yer lordship likes--Will I gang an' walk aboot, mem
--my leddy, till his lordship's made up his min'? Wad that please
him, duv ye think?" he said, in the tone of one who seeks advice.
But the girl only smiled, and the marquis said, "Go to the devil."
"I maun luik to yer lordship for the necessar' directions," rejoined
Malcolm.
"Your tongue's long enough to inquire as you go," said the marquis.
A reply in the same strain rushed to Malcolm's lips, but he checked
himself in time, and stood silent, with his bonnet in his band,
fronting the two. The marquis sat gazing as if he had nothing to say
to him, but after a few moments the lady spoke--not to Malcolm,
however.
"Is there any danger in boating here, papa?" she said.
"Not more, I daresay, than there ought to be," replied the marquis
listlessly. "Why do you ask?"
"Because I should so like a row! I want to see how the shore looks
to the mermaids."
"Well, I will take you some day, if we can find a proper boat."
"Is yours a proper boat?" she asked, turning to Malcolm with a
sparkle of fun in her eyes.
"That depen's on my lord's definition o' proper."
"Definition!" repeated the marquis.
"Is 't ower lang a word, my lord?" asked Malcolm.
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