“MacPhail,” she said, sweeping to the stair like an indignant goddess, “I discharge you from my service. Leave the house instantly.”
Malcolm turned, flew down, and ran to the servants’ stair half the length of the house away. As he crossed the servants’ hall he saw Rose. She was the only one in the house except Clementina to whom he could look for help.
“Come after me, Rose,” he said without stopping.
She followed instantly, as fast as she could run, and saw him enter the drawing-room. Florimel and Liftore were there. The earl had Florimel’s hand in his.
“For God’s sake, my lady!” cried Malcolm, “hear me one word before you promise that man anything.”
His lordship started back from Florimel, and turned upon Malcolm in a fury. But he had not now the advantage of the stair, and hesitated. Florimel’s eyes dilated with wrath.
“I tell you for the last time, my lady,” said Malcolm, “if you marry that man, you will marry a liar and a scoundrel.”
Liftore laughed, and his imitation of scorn was wonderfully successful, for he felt sure of Florimel, now that she had thus taken his part.
“Shall I ring for the servants, Lady Lossie, to put the fellow out?” he said. “The man is as mad as a March hare.”
Meantime Lady Clementina, her maid having gone to send her man to get horses for her at once, was alone in her room, which was close to the drawing-room: hearing Malcolm’s voice, she ran to the door, and saw Rose in a listening attitude at that of the drawing-room.