"The London and Westminster."
"They're just a noble pair o' horns," said he emphatically. "I wonder ye do not take them with ye to London." And then he left.
CHAPTER VIII.
A RELEASE.
We had a long spell ashore at this time, for we were meditating a protracted voyage, and everything had to be left ship-shape behind us. The Laird was busy from morning till night; but it would appear that all his attention was not wholly given to the affairs of Strathgovan. Occasionally he surprised his hostess by questions which had not the least reference to asphalte pavements or gymnasium chains. He kept his own counsel, nevertheless.
By and by his mysterious silence so piqued and provoked her that she seized a favourable opportunity for asking him, point-blank, whether he had not spoken to Mary Avon. They were in the garden at the time, he seated on an iron seat, with a bundle of papers beside him; she standing on the gravel-path with some freshly-cut flowers in her hand. There was a little colour in her face, for she feared that the question might be deemed impertinent; yet, after all, it was no idle curiosity that prompted her to ask it. Was she not as much interested in the girl's happiness as any one could be?
"I have," said he, looking up at her calmly.
Well, she knew that. Was this all the answer she was to get?
"I beg your pardon, ma'am," said he, after a second, "if I seem to be making a mystery where there is no mystery. I hate all foolishness like that. I do not myself believe there is anything of the kind; but I will just ask ye to wait for a day or two before speaking to the lass herself. After that, I will leave it all in your hands. I trust ye will consider that I have done my part."
"Oh, I am sure of that, sir," said she: though how could she be sure?