“It’s a mair inviting place noo than it used to be, for young folk.”
“Is it?” said the impracticable stranger. “I have never been at Mossgray.”
“Ay,” said John, dryly, fancying he was now sure of a more satisfactory answer; “but ye’ll ken the young lady it’s like?”
“The young lady!” exclaimed his companion in evident astonishment. “Is there a young lady at Mossgray?”
John Brown was brought to a stand-still—he was half angry at his failure.
“Ay, nae doubt there’s a young lady; ye maunna hae been living nearhand here or ye would have heard of the young lady of Mossgray.”
“You don’t mean,” said the young man, hurriedly, “that Mr Graeme is married?”
A long gruff laugh answered the question, to the considerable relief of the inquirer, before John was able to say,—
“Man, ye may ken mony things, but ye dinna ken the Laird!”
“No, indeed I do not,” said the stranger, echoing John’s laugh; “but pray tell me who the young lady is.”