‘It would do the little miss far more good to taste a glass o’ my brew, and put some colour into her cheeks,’ said the master of the house.
‘Haud your tongue, goodman, and leave the young lady to me. Tak’ you care what you’re about. You’ll get both yoursel’ and other folk into trouble if you dinna pay attention.’
‘Toots! a glass will harm naebody,’ Blackmore said.
‘I want my sister to see that mare,’ said Tom—‘that mare, you know, Blackmore, that you said you’d keep for me. I want her to see the stables. I told her all about you, and that you were tremendous friends——’
‘Ah, laddie!’ said Blackmore, ‘the sight of you brings many a thing back. Many and many’s the time that your father——’
‘I told her so,’ said Tom with his glass in his hands. ‘Here’s to all of you. And I mean to stick to father’s friends.’
‘Tom!’ cried Janet with a start. The smell of the whisky, the crowd of men, the loud voices and sound of their feet upon the floor, scarcely deadened by the thin carpet, scared her altogether. ‘Oh, Tom,’ she said, ‘I’m too tired to see anything. Let us get home—oh, let us get home!’ and overcome by excitement and confusion, Janet began to cry.
‘My bonnie dawtie,’ said the mistress, ‘wait till ye get your tea.’
‘Oh, let us get home,’ cried Janet; ‘it will soon be dark. I’m frightened to ride after it is dark. All those dreadful roads! Oh, Tom, let us get home—oh, Tom, let us get home!’
‘Maister Tom,’ said the mistress, ‘it’s true she says. It’s not fit for a bit thing like her to be gallopin’ a’ those uncivilised roads in the dark. Charlie shall put in one of the horses in the dog-cart and drive her hame.’