He was aware that Earl James of Abercorn, Earl Hugh of Ormond, Sir Malcolm Fleming, Sir Alan Lauder, and other kinsmen of the Douglases viewed him with undisguised aversion; and while he continued to play with the balls of thread, and utter pleasant commonplaces to the ladies near, those four personages were standing aloof in a corner, leaning on their swords, which were somewhere about five feet long, "nursing their wrath to keep it warm," and wishing they had the captain of the king's guard on a solitary hill-side, or even in the street without.
"And this Livingstone—I beg pardon, Sir Alexander Livingstone, Laird of Callender—a mere baron," he heard the earl of Douglas say to the abbot; "by what warrant or right is such a man as he regent of the realm?"
"I have heard your noble father ask the same question often, with the same tone—ay, and with the same sombre gloom in his eye, my lord," replied the abbot evasively.
"Well—know you by what right?" reiterated the young noble bitterly, giving vent to the hatred his dead father had carefully and unceasingly inspired and fostered.
"Is it hereditary?" asked the abbot gently.
"Assuredly not."
"Then how came Livingstone to have the regency?"
"'Twas given by parliament and the nation."
"Hence his right," said the abbot, smiling at obtaining the very reply he wished; but the petulant young earl rasped the rowels of his gold spurs furiously on the hearth, for these quiet answers from the "keeper of his conscience" galled and fretted him.
"Well, the time is come for the nobles, the barons, and others to reconsider that too-hastily given right," said the countess; "for what is he, or what is this Lord Chancellor, that earls and chiefs are to veil their bonnets in their presence?"