“Think he is?” said the Viscount, in a low voice.
“Think!” echoed the baronet, with a world of scorn in his utterance of that one word.
“I won’t stand any more of his nonsense, then!” exclaimed his lordship, nodding very fiercely. “It’s quite time it was stopped, and I’ll stop it!”
Sir Murray gave him a short, sharp look—half assent, half contempt—and then turned upon his heel, leaving his proposed son-in-law alone.
“What a savage bear he grows!” muttered his lordship, as soon as he was alone; but the next instant his harsh opinion was softened down by the recollection of Sir Murray’s wealth; and he stood gazing for an instant from the open window over the lake at the line stretch of park land, with its noble timber, and recalled the last quiet conversation he had had with the baronet, when he was requested—in words which told most plainly of the owners intentions—not to cut down any of the timber, nor yet to drain the lake.
Five minutes after, his lordship walked into the drawing-rooms, and went through the whole suite, expecting every moment to see Isa reading on some lounge; but she was not there. He then walked into the breakfast and dining-rooms, the conservatory, and Lady Gernon’s boudoir, ending by taking a turn in the garden; but Isa was still invisible.
“Seen Miss Gernon?” he said at last to the major-domo, whom he encountered in the hall.
“Me young lady went oot for her morning ride a gude half-hoor ago, my lord,” said McCray; when, taking a hunting-crop from a stand close by, his lordship walked hurriedly away.
“Jenny, my gude lassie,” said the old Scot, as he entered the housekeeper’s room some five minutes after, when returning from watching his lordship across the lawn—“Jenny, my gude lassie, here’s the auld coorse of true love rinning rougher than iver, and our wee pet bairn, I fear, going to be made unhappy. The ways of the world are very crooked, and I canna help thinking it wondrous strange that young Norton should be thrown in our darling’s way as he is. I’m pitying him, too, lassie, for he’s a bra’e lad, and my heart wairmed to him for the way he saved the child; and he puts me in mind, too, of ane Alexander McCray twenty year agane, whose heart was sair as this laddie’s is, I ken. But it all came reet for mine, Jenny. Will it come reet for the Nortons’ boy?”
The housekeeper shook her head.