more than regaird I ha'e to Leddy Florimel hersel', I'm jist whiles
driven to ane mair. Hoo can I tak the verra sunsheen oot o' her life
'at I lo'ed afore I kent she was my ain sister, an' jist thoucht
lang to win near eneuch till to du her ony guid turn worth duin? An'
here I am, her ane half brither, wi' naething i' my pooer but to
scaud the hert o' her, or else lee! Supposin' she was weel merried
first, hoo wad she stan' wi' her man whan he cam to ken 'at she
was nae marchioness--hed no lawfu' richt to ony name but her
mither's? An' afore that, what richt cud I ha'e to alloo ony man
to merry her ohn kent the trowth aboot her? Faith, it wad be a fine
chance though for the fin'in' oot whether or no the man was worthy
o' her! But, ye see that micht be to make a playock o' her hert.
Puir thing, she luiks doon upo' me frae the tap o' her bonny neck,
as frae a h'avenly heicht; but I s' lat her ken yet, gien only I
can win at the gait o' 't, that I ha'ena come nigh her for naething."

He gave a sigh with the words, and a pause followed.

"The trowth's the trowth," resumed Miss Horn, "neither mair nor
less."

"Ay," responded Malcolm; "but there's a richt an' a wrang time for
the telling' o' 't. It's no as gien I had had han' or tongue in
ony foregane lee. It was naething o' my duin', as ye ken, mem. To
mysel', I was never onything but a fisherman born. I confess 'at
whiles, when we wad be lyin' i' the lee o' the nets, tethered to
them like, wi' the win' blawin' strong 'an steady, I ha'e thocht
wi' mysel' 'at I kent naething aboot my father, an' what gien it
sud turn oot 'at I was the son o' somebody--what wad I du wi' my
siller?"