"To this whole matter. Do you know, my fair friend, that you are perhaps the first young lady of your age that, in all my experience, ever took a fancy to a hobbledehoy lad in preference to a man; so while you reconsider the offer, you will perhaps permit me?" He bowed, and conceiving her consent given, proceeded to light a pipe, by the then very elaborate process of a small flint, steel and matches in a little silver tinder-box, on the lid of which his coat of arms was engraved. "And so you studied together, I presume, under that absurd Dominie Skaill, with the knee-breeches and huge shoe-buckles (like a heavy father at Old Drury), keen grey eyes, and Scotch cheekbones one might hang one's hat on, eh?"
"Yes," replied Flora, tying the ribbons of her gipsy hat under her dimpled chin with an angry jerk.
"And you learned Latin, Coptic, and Sanscrit together, I suppose," he continued in his cool sneering tone; "and to conjugate the verb to love, in all."
"Exactly so, and in Greek, Chaldaic, and Chinese, and ever so many more languages, so that we became very perfect in grammar," replied she, smiling wickedly, while the grim Master's cat-like eyes filled with a very baleful green light; yet he had not the sense to see that his operations were conducted on a wrong plan before such a fortress as the fair lady of Ardgour.
"Come, Miss Warrender, whatever we do, hang it, don't let us quarrel, and so make fools of ourselves."
"I have not the least intention of quarrelling, and trust that you have none."
"Then allow me to kiss you once, and we shall become better friends, I promise you."
"Kiss me!" exclaimed Flora, starting.
"Yes—why not—what does a little kiss signify?"
"So little that you shall never have one from me, were it to save your life," said Flora, with a burst of laughter.