as Dr. Wodrow quoted the poet; and then her brown owl, which had been caught by Robert Wodrow, nearly at the risk of his life, in the ruined tower of Invermay, and now sat in a hollow of the garden wall secured by a net, behind which it winked and blinked and waited for a sparrow or a field-mouse; and the girl seemed so bright and independent, so happy and so busy with all the objects which formed her little cares, that Leslie Colville surveyed her with a kind of wonder and curiosity, for, while being perfectly ladylike, perfectly bred and delicately nurtured, she was so unlike any woman he had ever met before; her world was, in many respects, one altogether apart from his.
Meanwhile Sir Redmond, the very picture of bland laziness, though secretly keen as a ferret, with his glass in his left eye and his hands thrust into his trousers pockets, and his hair parted like a woman's in the middle, was standing before Ellinor, and contemplating her with evident satisfaction, for he was a vaurien by nature.
'And you have come here to shoot?' said she, as the portfolio was relinquished at last.
'To shoot—yes,' he replied; 'this will be my first turn at the game in Scotland.'
'Robert tells me that the gleds have sucked half the grouse eggs this season.'
'Gleds—what are they—nasty little boys?'
'They are a kind of crow,' replied Ellinor, laughing excessively.
'And who is Robert?' asked Sir Redmond, slowly, readjusting his eyeglass.
'The son of Dr. Wodrow,' replied Ellinor, colouring a little, as he could perceive.
'He prognosticates a bad look-out for us on the 12th of next month?'