the elder, a high bred gentleman. His face was small, and the skin
of it was puckered into wrinkles innumerable; his mouth was sweet,
but he had lost his teeth, and the lips had fallen in; his chin,
however, was large and strong; while his blue eyes looked out from
under his narrow high forehead with a softly piercing glance of
great gentleness and benignity. A little gray hair clustered about
his temples and the back of his head--the red nightcap hid the
rest. There was three days' growth of gray beard on his chin, for
NOW THAT HE HAD NOBODY, he would say, he had not the heart to shave
every morning.

For some time he sat looking straight before him, smiling to his
mother's hands as they knitted, she casting on him now and then a
look that seemed to express the consciousness of blame for not
having made a better job of him, or for having given him too much
to do in the care of himself. For neither did his mother believe in
him farther than that he had the best possible intentions in what
he did, or did not do. At the same time she never doubted he was
more of a man than ever his son would be, seeing they had such
different mothers.

"Grizzie," said the laird, "hae ye a drappy o' soor milk? I'm some
dry."

"Ay, that hae I, sir!" answered Grizzie with alacrity, and rising
went into the darker region behind the kitchen, whence presently
she emerged with a white basin full of rich milk--half cream, it
was indeed. Without explanation or apology she handed it to her
master, who received and drank it off.