Duff Harbour, the lawyer the marquis had employed to draw up the
papers substantiating the youth's claim. The last amounted to this,
that, as rapidly as the proprieties of mourning would permit, she
was circling the vortex of the London season; and Malcolm was now
almost in despair of ever being of the least service to her as
a brother to whom as a servant he had seemed at one time of daily
necessity. If he might but once be her skipper, her groom, her
attendant, he might then at least learn how to discover to her
the bond between them, without breaking it in the very act, and so
ruining the hope of service to follow.



CHAPTER III: MISS HORN


The door opened, and in walked a tall, gaunt, hard featured woman,
in a huge bonnet, trimmed with black ribbons, and a long black net
veil, worked over with sprigs, coming down almost to her waist. She
looked stern, determined, almost fierce, shook hands with a sort
of loose dissatisfaction, and dropped into one of the easy chairs
in which the library abounded. With the act the question seemed
shot from her--"Duv ye ca' yersel' an honest man, noo, Ma'colm?"

"I ca' myself naething," answered the youth; "but I wad fain be
what ye say, Miss Horn."

"Ow! I dinna doobt ye wadna steal, nor yet tell lees aboot a horse:
I ha'e jist come frae a sair waggin' o' tongues about ye. Mistress
Crathie tells me her man's in a sair vex 'at ye winna tell a wordless