Eppy tittered gleefully. “Yes, I was married to-day, and ’tis heavenly,” and she rolled her eyes in an ecstasy of joy.
“Well, ’twas the best you could do, I suppose,” observed Sir William maliciously.
“I wouldn’t take you as a gift,” she flashed. “And you tried hard enough to win me, dear knows,” she went on with total disregard for the truth. “He was forever running after me,” she explained deprecatingly to Souter.
“You—you—you are not speaking the truth,” sputtered Sir William furiously. “If I was running it was to get away from you.”
“Oh, of course you won’t admit it now,” she observed calmly. “But I am rejoicing that I didn’t marry you.” She looked Souter over critically. “Well, Souter may not be very handsome,” she remarked thoughtfully after a pause, “but he is a perfect picture in kilts,” and she gave a sigh of absolute content.
“Women are queer creatures,” whispered Souter to Robert deprecatingly, “and my—my wife, ahem! weel, she’s the queerest of them a’.”
“Well, my friends,” laughed Mr. Mackenzie, “I protest this time I must be off. Good-by, lad.”
“May blessings attend your steps and affliction know ye not,” answered Robert fervently. “Ye might take Sir William along, for he looks maist uncomfortable amongst honest people!” he added dryly.
Mackenzie laughed grimly and passed out, leaving Sir William to follow.
“Ye insulting pauper!” fumed Sir William, starting angrily for the door.