“He can come and see you twenty times a day—and stop all night when you particularly want him. We’ll see about some respectable woman to look after the house for you.”
“She’ll haf no womans to look after her,” said Duncan fiercely.
“Oh, very well!—of course not, if you don’t wish it,” returned the marquis, laughing.
But Duncan did not even smile in return. He sat thoughtful and silent for a moment, then said:
“And what’ll pecome of her lamps and her shop?”
“You shall have all the lamps and candlesticks in the house to attend to and take charge of,” said the marquis, who had heard of the old man’s whim from Lady Florimel; “and for the shop, you won’t want that when you’re piper to the Marquis of Lossie.”
He did not venture to allude to wages more definitely.
“Well, she’ll pe talking to her poy apout it,” said Duncan, and the marquis saw that he had better press the matter no further for the time.
To Malcolm the proposal was full of attraction. True, Lord Lossie had once and again spoken so as to offend him, but the confidence he had shown in him had gone far to atone for that. And to be near Lady Florimel!—to have to wait on her in the yacht and sometimes in the house!—to be allowed books from the library perhaps!— to have a nice room, and those lovely grounds all about him!—It was tempting!
The old man also, the more he reflected, liked the idea the more. The only thing he murmured at was being parted from his grandson at night. In vain Malcolm reminded him that during the fishing-season he had to spend most nights alone; Duncan answered that he had but to go to the door, and look out to sea, and there was nothing between him and his boy; but now he could not tell how many stone walls might be standing up to divide them. He was quite willing to make the trial, however, and see if he could bear it. So Malcolm went to speak to the marquis.