But wha can tell?
Scots law may put life intill them yet, an' gie them a vailue to
somebody forbye me."
"What I mean, my good woman, is, that if you think the possession
of those papers gives you any hold over me which you can turn to
your advantage, you are mistaken."
"Guid forgie ye, my lord! My advantage! I thoucht yer lordship had
been mair o' a gentleman by this time, or I wad hae sent a lawyer
till ye, in place o' comin' mysel'."
"What do you mean by that?"
"It's plain ye cudna hae been muckle o' a gentleman ance, my lord;
an' it seems ye're no muckle mair o' ane yet, for a' ye maun hae
come throu' i' the meantime."
"I trust you have discovered nothing in those letters to afford
ground for such a harsh judgment," said the marquis seriously.
"Na, no a word i' them, but the mair oot o' them. Ye winna threep
upo' me 'at a man wha lea's a wuman, lat alane his wife--or
ane 'at he ca's his wife--to a' the pains o' a mither, an' a'
the penalties o' an oonmerried ane, ohn ever speirt hoo she wan
throu' them, preserves the richt he was born till o' bein' coontit
a gentleman? Ony gait, a maiden, wuman like mysel' wha has nae
feelin's will not alloo him the teetle--Guid forbid it!"
"You are plain spoken."
"I 'm plain made, my lord. I ken guid frae ill, an' little forbye,
but aye fand that eneuch to sare my turn. Aither thae letters o'
yer lordship's are ilk ane o' them a lee, or ye desertit yer wife
an' bairn."
"Alas!" interrupted the marquis with some emotion--"she deserted
me--and took the child with her!"
"Wha ever daurt sic a lee upo' my Grizel?" shouted Miss Horn,
clenching and shaking her bony fist at the world in general.
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