Marie smiled a sad smile.
"But I would learn—I know I could—for I am no fool, though I say it: I like all that sort of thing, and—and if I had you to teach me, I should care about nothing else. I have given up all my nonsense since I knew you; indeed I have—I am trying all day long to read—ever since you said something about being useful, and noble, and doing one's work:—I have never forgotten that, madam, and never shall; and you would find me a pleasant person to live with, I do believe. At all events, I would—oh, madam—I would be your servant, your dog—I would fetch and carry for you like a negro slave!"
Marie turned pale, and rose.
"Listen to me, my lord; this must end. You do not know to whom you are speaking. You talk of negro slaves. Know that you are talking to one!"
Scoutbush looked at her in blank astonishment.
"Madam? Excuse me: but my own eyes—"
"You are not to trust them; I tell you fact."
Scoutbush was silent. She misunderstood his silence: but went on steadily.
"I tell you, my lord, what I expect you to keep secret: and I know that I can trust your honour."
Scoutbush bowed.