“Aye, aye, whiles I wunner mysel’,” agreed Scottie. “But the breed o’ men ye get here’s hardened tae’t. It’s a hard life, but they’re hard men. Ye’ll meet some o’ them up at the Ridge. Ye’ll find them rough an’ ready mebbe, you bein’ used wi’ city folk. But they’re good lads at heart maistly, though they hae their faults mebbe.”
“They won’t get drunk and—and swear—and that sort of thing before me, will they?” asked Ess, hesitatingly.
“Na, na,” said Scottie, hastily. “A man micht lat slip an oath mebbe withoot thinkin’—I micht dae the same mysel’—but ye’ll hae to lat that pass by an’ no hear like. They think a lot o’ a lassie oot here, an’ ane like yersel’ they’ll be like tae let ye use them for a doormat tae yer feet.”
Ess laughed. “I’m glad you think they’ll be kind to me,” she said. “I like people who are, so I’ll like them all.”
“Ye’ll get all the kindness ye need, an’ a wheen o’ compliments, I’m thinkin’,” said her uncle, smiling. “An’ if ye think at times they’re rough like, ye’ll just mind they’re well meanin’. An’ they wadna put a thocht or a word on a decent lassie that she could be shamed to hear. There’s just a single man that ...” he hesitated, and mumbled a moment over his words. “I don’t rightly know if it’s fair tae a man to prejudice ye against him, but there is a man there that the less ye hae to do wi’ the better I’ll be pleased. He has light thochts an’ ways wi’ women, though he’s no likely to use them wi’ you. But we’ll say nae mair, an’ if I think it needs it I’ll just tell ye again—or tell him.”
“One word to me will be enough,” said the girl, proudly. “And if you tell me who it is I’ll take care to avoid him. I hate coarse men.”
“He’s no coarse. He’s smoother than silk an’ finer than lawn linen. He has the tongue o’ a politician an’ the manners o’ a dancing master, an’ if his acts was as good as his looks he’d be the best man I ever met.”
Ess’s lip curled a little. “He must be a fop,” she said; “I wonder he’s any use in this country.”
“I’ve painted ma picture wrong if it gie’s ye that notion. He’s as tough as fencin’ wire, an’ can out-fight, out-drink, an’ out-devil the wildest o’ the gang. He puts himself out to please nobody but himsel’, but I never knew the man or maid, horse or dog, that didn’t like him.”
“You’re making me wildly curious,” said the girl. “And I believe you like him yourself in spite of your warning me against him.”