“Weel, my leddy, gien ye wull hae ’t—but hoo great a man wad ye be makin’ o’ me?”
“Oh!—let me see;—yes—yes—the heir to an earldom.— That’s liberal enough—is it not?”
“That’s as muckle as say I wad come to be a yerl some day, sae be I didna dee upo’ the ro’d?”
“Yes—that’s what it means.”
“An’ a yerl’s neist door till a markis—isna he?”
“Yes—he’s in the next lower rank.”
“Lower?—Ay!—No that muckle, maybe?”
“No,” said Lady Florimel consequentially; “the difference is not so great as to prevent their meeting on a level of courtesy.”
“I dinna freely ken what that means; but gien ’t be yer leddyship’s wull to mak a yerl o’ me, I’m no to raise ony objections.”
He uttered it definitively, and stood silent.