‘Tak’ heart, Lady Dulcie, tak’ heart,’ said the good old man, patting her shoulder with one hand, as he wiped his own eyes with the other. ‘It’s a sair trouble, but we’ll maybe reconcile them yet.’
‘Oh, Mr. Peebles!’ sobbed the girl. ‘I love him!’
‘Any fool could see that,’ said the old man, with a chuckle which was half a sob. ‘I love him, too, the rascal! Ye must hasten home, Lady Dulcie. My lord needs watching, and ’tis weel ye should be with him, for the boy’s sake.’
Dulcie dried her tears, and called Rosie, who answered the summons at once.
‘You’ll take care of him?’ she said to Peebles. ‘You’ll see that he comes to no harm?’
‘Trust me for that,’ said Peebles. ‘There, there, my bonny doo, tak’ comfort. He’ll be yours yet.’
‘Oh, how good you are!’ cried Dulcie. She threw her arms about his neck, and kissed him on either cheek with right goodwill. ‘That’s for Desmond’s sake. Mind, I trust in you.’
Left alone, Peebles stood for some moments in a cataleptic condition, till he recovered his senses, and refreshed his brain with a liberal pinch of snuff from his waistcoat pocket.
‘Peebles, ye old villain!’ he said to himself, ‘what’s gone wi’ your morality, lettin’ the lassies kiss you at your age! Aweel! a kiss like that from a pure lass is better than a bad man’s blessing. Never fear, Lady Dulcie, nae mischief shall befall Desmond Macartney if I can save him.’