"Ye can du as yer lordship likes," answered Miss Horn; "but I wadna
hae 't said o' me 'at I had ony dealin's wi' her. Wha kens but she
micht say ye tried to bribe her? There 's naething she wad bogle
at gien she thoucht it worth her while. No 'at I 'm feart at her.
Lat her lee! I 'm no sae blate but--! Only dinna lippen till a
word she says, my lord."
The marquis meditated.
"I wonder whether the real source of my perplexity occurs to you,
Miss Horn," he said at length. "You know I have a daughter?"
"Weel eneuch that, my lord."
"By my second marriage."
"Nae merridge ava', my lord."
"True,--if I confess to the first."
"A' the same, whether or no, my lord."
"Then you see," the marquis went on, refusing offence, "what the
admission of your story would make of my daughter?"
"That's plain eneuch, my lord."
"Now, if I have read Malcolm right, he has too much regard for his
--mistress--to put her in such a false position."
"That is, my lord, ye wad hae yer lawfu' son beir the lawless name."
"No, no; it need never come out what he is. I will provide for him
--as a gentleman, of course."
"It canna be, my lord. Ye can du naething for him wi' that face o'
his, but oot comes the trouth as to the father o' 'im; an' it wadna
be lang afore the tale was ekit oot wi' the name o' his mither--
Mistress Catanach wad see to that, gien 'twas only to spite me; an'
I wunna hae my Grizel ca'd what she is not, for ony lord's dauchter
i' the three kynriks.
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