"Not make any difference!" echoed Mrs. Macruadh. "What is it possible you can mean, Alister?"
The anger that glowed in her dark eyes made her look yet handsomer, proving itself not a mean, though it might be a misplaced anger.
"Is she different, mother, from what she was before you had the letter?"
"You did not then know what she was!"
"Just as well as I do now. I have no reason to think she is not what
I thought her."
"You thought her the daughter of a gentleman!"
"Hardly. I thought her a lady, and such I think her still."
"Then you mean to go on with it?"
"Mother dear," said Alister, taking her by the hand, "give me a little time. Not that I am in any doubt—but the news has been such a blow to me that—"
"It must have been!" said the mother.