"Oh, damn the bag!—I beg your pardon, mother."
"Am I to believe my ears, Alister?"
"What does it matter, mother? What harm can it do the bag? I wished no evil to any creature!"
"It was the more foolish."
"I grant it, mother. But you don't know what a relief it is sometimes to swear a little!—You are quite wrong, Ian; it all comes of giving him the head!"
"You wish you had not given it him?"
"No!" growled Alister, as from a pent volcano.
"You will break my ears, Alister!" cried the mother, unable to keep from laughing at the wrath in which he went straining through the room.
"Think of it," insisted Ian: "a man like could not think otherwise without a revolution of his whole being to which the change of the leopard's spots would be nothing.—What you meant, after all, was not cordiality; it was only generosity; to which his response, his countercheck friendly, was an order for ten pounds!—All is right between you!"
"Now, really, Ian, you must not go on teasing your elder brother so!" said the mother.