The next morning, while he was at breakfast, Mr Cupples made his appearance in his room.
"What cam' o' ye last nicht, bantam?" he asked kindly, but with evident uneasiness.
"I cam' hame some tired, and gaed straucht to my bed."
"But ye warna hame verra ear'."
"I wasna that late."
"Ye hae been drinkin' again. I ken by the luik o' yer een."
Alec had a very even temper. But a headache and a sore conscience together were enough to upset it. To be out of temper with oneself is to be out of temper with the universe.
"Did my mother commission you to look after me, Mr Cupples?" he asked, and could have dashed his head against the wall the next moment. But the look of pitying and yet deprecating concern in Mr Cupples's face fixed him so that he could say nothing.
Mr Cupples turned and walked slowly away, with only the words:
"Eh! bantam! bantam! The Lord hae pity upo' ye�-and me too!"