Jean laughed.
“But there are degrees in that, as in other things. If Captain Harefield had spoken to me, I would have offered to make one for her.”
“And had the Captain nothing to say to you; Jean?” asked Mr Dawson.
“He was feared at Jean,” May said laughing. “He just stood and looked at her.”
“He had plenty to say, if I had had the time to listen. He said his sister insisted on his coming north that he might keep out of mischief. He found Blackford House a bore rather,” said Jean imitating May’s drawl with indifferent success. Then she added,—
“I beg your pardon, auntie. I ken ye dinna like it, and then I don’t do it well enough to make it worth my while, like May here.”
“My dear, ye baith do it only ower weel. And as to my no’ liking it—that’s neither here nor there. But I have kenned such a power o’ mockery give great pain to others, and bring great suffering sooner or later on those that had it. It canna be right, and it should be no temptation to a—Christian”, was the word that was on Miss Jean’s lips, but she changed it and said—“to a young gentlewoman.”
May looked at her sister and blushed and hung her head. Miss Jean so seldom reproved any one, that there was power in her words when she did speak; and May had yesterday sent some of her young companions into agonies of stifled laughter, by echoing the Captain’s drawl to his face.
“I’ll never do it again, auntie,” said she. “And besides,” said her sister, “Captain Harefield is not fair game. It’s not just airs and pride and folly with him, as it is with some folk we have seen; it is his natural manner.”
“But that is just what makes it so irresistible,” said May laughing. “To see him standing there so much at his ease—so strong and stately looking, and then to hear the things he says in his fine English words! It might be Simple Sandy himself,” and she went on to repeat some of his remarks, which probably lost nothing in the process. Even her aunt could not forbear smiling as she listened.