A chorus of negatives went the round, with most energetic assurances of dissenting from the censure of the letter.
“Come now, Sir Andrew,” said Meek, who for once, losing his balance, would not even omit him in the number of approving voices,—“come, now, Sir Andrew, I ask you frankly, am I a humbug?”
“I canna tell,” said the cautious old general, with a sly shake of the head; “I can only say, sir, be ma saul, ye never humbugged me!”
This time the laugh was sincere, and actually shook the table. Mrs. Kennyfeck, who now saw that Sir Andrew, to use the phrase employed by his acquaintances, “was up,” determined to withdraw, and made her telegraphic signals, which soon were answered along the line, save by Lady Janet, who stubbornly adhered to her glass of claret, with some faint hope that the lagging decanter might arrive in her neighborhood time enough for another.
Poor Mrs. Kennyfeck's devices to catch her eye were all in vain; as well might some bore of the “House” hope for the Speaker's when he was fixedly exchanging glances with “Sir Robert.” She ogled and smiled, but to no purpose.
“My Leddy,—Leddy Janet,” said Sir Andrew.
“I hear you, sir; I heard you twice already. If you please, my Lord, a very little,—Mr. Linton, I beg for the water. I believe, Sir Andrew, you have forgotten Mr. Gosford's kind remembrances to the Dean.”
“Faith, and so I did, my Leddy. He asks after ye, Mr. Dean, wi' muckle kindness and affection, and says he never had a hearty laugh syne the day ye tried to teach Lady Caroline Jedyard to catch a sheep!”
The Dean looked stern, and Linton asked for the secret.
“It was by hauding the beast atween yer knees, and so when the Dean pit himself i' the proper position, wi' his legs out, and the shepherd drove the flock towards him, by sair ill-luck it was a ram cam first and he hoisted his reverence up i' the air, and then laid him flat on his back, amaist dead. Ech, sirs! but it was a sair fa', no' to speak o' the damage done to his black breeches!”