"He's a' that, an' mair, my lord. I didna mean him."
"They're all fools together."
"Ow, na, my lord. There's a heap o' them no muckle better, it may be; but there's guid men an' true amang them, or the Kirk wad hae been wi' Sodom and Gomorrah by this time. But it's no a minister I wad hae yer lordship confar wi'."
"Who, then? Mrs. Courthope, eh?"
"Ow na, my lord—no Mistress Courthoup. She's a guid body, but she wadna believe her ain een gien onybody ca'd a minister said contrar' to them."
"Who the devil do you mean, then?"
"Nae deevil, but an honest man 'at's been his warst enemy sae lang 's I hae kent him—Maister Graham, the schuil-maister."
"Pooh!" said the marquis with a puff. "I'm too old to go to school."
"I dinna ken the man 'at isna a bairn till him, my lord."
"In Greek and Latin?"