What Andrew was thinking, it would have been hard to gather from his smile; but I believe it was that, if he had himself read the verses aloud, the laird would have found no fault with their rhythm. His carriage seemed more that of a patient, respectful amusement than anything else.
Alexa rose, but resumed her seat, saying:
“As the poem is a religious one, there can be no harm in handing it you on Sunday after church!—that is,” she added, meaningly, “if you will be there!”
“Give it to Dawtie, if you please, ma'am,” replied Andrew.
“Ah!” rebuked Miss Fordyce, in a tone almost of rebuke.
“I seldom go to church, ma'am,” said Andrew, reddening a little, but losing no sweetness from his smile.
“I understand as much! It is very wrong! Why don't you?”
Andrew was silent.
“I wish you to tell me,” persisted Alexa, with a peremptoriness which came of the school-master. She had known him too as a pupil of her father's!
“If you will have it, ma'am, I not only learn nothing from Mr. Smith, but I think much that he says is not true.”