Malcolm had turned his head aside, and now moved on
without remark. Struck by his silence, Clementina
looked up, and saw his face very pale, and the tears
standing in his eyes.
“You must tell me the sad story, Malcolm,”
she murmured. “I could scarcely understand
a word the old man said.”
He continued silent, and seemed struggling with some
emotion. But when they were within a few paces
of the arbour, he stopped short, and said—“I
would rather not go in there today. You would
oblige me, my lady, if you would not go.”
She looked up at him again, with wonder but more concern
in her lovely face, put her hand on his arm, gently
turned him away, and walked back with him to the fountain.
Not a word more did she say about the matter.
The evening came; and the company at Lossie House
was still seated at table, Clementina heartily weary
of the vapid talk that had been going on all through
the dinner, when she was informed that a fisherman
of the name of Mair was at the door, accompanied by
his wife, saying they had an appointment with her.
She had already acquainted her hostess, when first
they sat down, with her arrangements for going a-fishing
that night, and much foolish talk and would be wit
had followed; now, when she rose and excused herself,
they all wished her a pleasant evening, in a tone
indicating the conviction that she little knew what
she was about, and would soon be longing heartily
enough to be back with them in the drawing room, whose
lighted windows she would see from the boat. But
Clementina hoped otherwise, hurriedly changed her
dress, hastened to join Malcolm’s messengers,
and almost in a moment had made the two childlike people
at home with her, by the simplicity and truth of her
manner, and the directness of her utterance.
They had not talked with her five minutes before they
said in their hearts that here was the wife for the
marquis if he could get her.
“She’s jist like ane o’ oorsel’s,”
whispered Annie to her husband on the first opportunity,
“only a hantle better an bonnier.”
They took the nearest way to the harbour—through
the town, and Lady Clementina and Blue Peter kept
up a constant talk as they went. All in the streets
and at the windows stared to see the grand lady from
the House walking between a Scaurnose fisherman and
his wife, and chatting away with them as if they were
all fishers together.
“What’s the wordle comin’ till!”
cried Mrs Mellis, the draper’s wife, as she
saw them pass.
“I’m glaid to see the yoong wuman—an’
a bonny lass she is!—in sic guid company,”
said Miss Horn, looking down from the opposite side
of the way. “I’m thinkin’ the
han’ o’ the markis ‘ill be i’
this, no’!”
