Fanny did not quite understand him.
Norman sat himself down on a stool in the corner of the room, and folded his arms in the fashion which he adopted when he wished to be dignified.
“You have come a long way from Glen Tulloch, young lady, and I must see you safe back, for your young brother I have a notion is not likely to be much help to you,” said the old man; “Robby, though he is very small, is accustomed to take care of the house, for I often have to leave him by himself.”
Fanny thanked him, for, recollecting the difficulties she encountered in coming, she felt somewhat anxious about the homeward journey, especially as Norman had behaved so ill, and very likely would continue in his present mood.
Her stockings were soon dry, but her boots took longer, and were somewhat stiff when she put them on. They were some which her mamma had brought her from Paris, and were not very well suited for walking in the Highlands.
“I am afraid I have nothing to offer you to eat suitable to your taste, young lady,” said the old man, “though you must be hungry after your long journey. Robby and I live on ‘brose’ to our breakfast, dinner, and supper, but will you just take a cup of milk? it was fresh this morning, and you may want it after your walk.”
Fanny gladly accepted the old man’s offer, and then looked at Norman.
The cup of milk greatly restored her. The old man, without saying a word, brought another and offered it to Norman.
The young gentleman took it without scarcely saying thank you. Again, the old man cast a look of compassion on him.
“Poor boy,” he said quietly, “he kens no better.”