Part 84 (2/2)

”It's guid eneuch to ken a body by,” answered Miss Horn.

”If ta poy will pe a Stewart,” he went on, heedless of the indifference of her remark, ”who'll pe knowing put he'll may pe of ta plood royal!”

”There didna leuk to be muckle royalty aboot auld John, honest man, wha cudna rule a wife, though he had but ane!” returned Miss Horn.

”If you 'll please, mem, ton't you'll pe too sherp on ta poor man whose wife will not pe ta coot wife. If ta wife will pe ta paad wife, she will pe ta paad wife however, and ta poor man will pe hafing ta paad wife and ta paad plame of it too, and tat will pe more as 'll pe fair, mem.”

”'Deed ye never said a truer word, Maister MacPhail!” a.s.sented Miss Horn. ”It's a mercy 'at a lone wuman like me, wha has a maisterfu'

temper o' her ain, an' nae feelin's, was never putten to the temptation o' occkypeein' sic a perilous position. I doobt gien auld John had been merried upo' me, I micht hae putten on the wrang claes some mornin' mysel', an' may be had ill gettin' o' them aff again.”

The old man was silent, and Miss Horn resumed the main subject of their conversation.

”But though he michtna objec' till a father 'at he wasna jist Hector or Golia' o' Gath,” she said, ”ye canna wonner 'at the yoong laad no carin' to hae sic a mither.”

”And what would pe ta harm with ta mother? Will she not pe a coot woman, and a coot letty more to ta bargain?”

”Ye ken what fowk says till her guides.h.i.+p o' her son?”

”Yes; put tat will pe ta lies of ta peoples. Ta peoples wa.s.s always telling lies.”

”Weel, allooin', it 's a peety ye sudna ken, supposin' him to be hers, hoo sma' fowk hauds the chance o' his bein' a Stewart, for a' that!”

”She 'll not pe comprestanding you,” said Duncan, bewildered.

”He's a wise son 'at kens his ain faither!” remarked Miss Horn, with more point than originality. ”The leddy never bore the best o' characters, as far 's my memory taks me,--an' that 's back afore John an' her was merried ony gait. Na, na; John Stewart never took a dwaum 'cause Ma'colm MacPhail was upo' the ro'd.”

Miss Horn was sufficiently enigmatical; but her meaning had at length, more through his own reflection than her exposition, dawned upon Duncan. He leaped up with a Gaelic explosion of concentrated force, and cried,

”Ta woman is not pe no mothers to Tuncan's poy!”

”Huly, huly, Mr MacPhail!” interposed Miss Horn, with good natured revenge; ”it may be naething but fowk's lees, ye ken.”

”Ta woman tat ta peoples will pe telling lies of her, wa.s.s not pe ta mother of her poy Malcolm. Why tidn't ta poy tell her ta why tat he wouldn't pe hafing her?”

”Ye wadna hae him spread an ill report o' his ain mither?”

”Put she 'll not pe his mother, and you 'll not pelieve it, mem.”

”Ye canna priv that--you nor him aither.”

”It will pe more as would kill her poy to haf a woman like tat to ta mother of him.”

”It wad be near ban' as ill is haein' her for a wife,” a.s.sented Miss Horn; ”but no freely (quite),” she added.

The old man sought the door, as if for a breath of air; but as he went, he blundered, and felt about as if he had just been struck blind; ordinarily he walked in his own house at least, as if he saw every inch of the way. Presently he returned and resumed his seat.

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