“Don’t anger me again,” returned the voice. “I tell you the truth. I’m sorry I spoke to your ladyship as I did this morning. It was the sight of my poor dog that drove me mad.”
“I couldn’t help it. I tried to keep mine off him, as you know.”
“I do know it, my lady, and that’s why I beg your pardon.”
“Then there’s nothing more to be said.”
“Yes, there is, my lady: I want to make you some amends. I know more than most people, and I know a secret that some would give their ears for. Will you trust me?”
“I will hear what you’ve got to say.”
“Well, I don’t care whether you believe me or not: I shall tell you nothing but the truth. What do you think of Malcolm MacPhail, my lady?”
“What do you mean by asking me such a question?”
“Only to tell you that by birth he is a gentleman, and comes of an old family.”
“But why do you tell me?” said Florimel. “What have I to do with it?”