An' I gaed dreamin' on at the same thing ower an' ower,
a' the time I was asleep. But there was naething sae frichtsome
aboot that, my lord."
"No, indeed," said his lordship.
"Only it garred me greit tu, my lord, 'cause I cudna win at her to
help her."
His lordship laughed, but oddly, and changed the subject.
"There's no word of that boat yet," he said. "I must write again."
"May I show Malcolm the library, papa?" asked Lady Florimel.
"I wad fain see the buiks," adjected Malcolm.
"You don't know what a scholar he is, papa!"
"Little eneuch o' that!" said Malcolm.
"Oh yes! I do," said the marquis, answering his daughter. "But he
must keep the skipper from my books and the scholar from my boat."
"Ye mean a scholar wha wad skip yer buiks, my lord! Haith! sic
wad be a skipper wha wad ill scull yer boat!" said Malcolm, with
a laugh at the poor attempt.
"Bravo!" said the marquis, who certainly was not over critical.
"Can you write a good hand?"
"No ill, my lord."
"So much the better! I see you 'll be worth your wages."
"That depen's on the wages," returned Malcolm.
"And that reminds me you 've said nothing about them yet."
"Naither has yer lordship."
"Well, what are they to be?"
"Whatever ye think proper, my lord. Only dinna gar me gang to
Maister Crathie for them."
The marquis had sent away the man who was waiting when Malcolm
entered, and during this conversation Malcolm had of his own accord
been doing his best to supply his place.
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