"And Captain Macleod refused?"
"Declined with thanks; and wrote me privately not to bother him again with any proposals of that sort from a bloated mechanic."
Marjory's mouth turned down again. "Indeed! that was very noble of him."
"So it was in a way," replied her companion, sticking to his own ill-concealed satisfaction, "for the man is offensive to the last degree. He has invented a tartan, and has a piper to play him to bed."
"If he likes it, why not? Every man must have invented his own tartan, once upon a time, you know; the Macleods into the bargain."
Will Cameron smiled languidly. "You are a beggar to argue, Marjory. But as I said before, the laird must marry money."
"Sell himself instead of his property?"
"Why not? he is worth buying, and she needn't be ugly."
"Ugly! as if that were the only question! I believe it is all you men think of. Why, Will, you haven't told me anything about Captain Macleod except that he is good-looking; and I knew that before. I wanted to hear what he was like--he himself, I mean."
He looked at her with comical amusement. "You have come to the wrong man, my dear. I never could tell my own character, much less anybody else's. But here is old John, beaming with satisfaction at the thought of coming slaughter among the birds. Ask him!"