with which Lizzy tried to pierce the gloom and read his face: for
a moment the poor girl thought he meant he had loved her himself.
But far other thoughts were in Malcolm's mind: one was that her
whom, as a scarce approachable goddess, he had loved before he knew
her of his own blood, he would rather see married to an honest
fisherman in the Seaton of Portlossie, than to such a lord as
Meikleham. He had seen enough of him at Lossie House to know what
he was, and puritanical fish catching Malcolm had ideas above
those of most marquises of his day: the thought of the alliance
was horrible to him. It was possibly not inevitable, however; only
what could he do, and at the same time avoid grievous hurt?

"I dinna think he'll ever merry my leddy," he said.

"What gars ye say that, Ma'colm?" returned Lizzy, with eagerness.

"I canna tell ye jist i' the noo; but ye ken a body canna weel
be aye aboot a place ohn seein things. I'll tell ye something o'
mair consequence hooever," he continued. . "Some fowk say there's
a God, an' some say there's nane, an' I ha'e no richt to preach to
ye, Lizzy; but I maun jist tell ye this--'at gien God dinna help
them 'at cry till 'im i' the warst o' tribles, they micht jist as
weel ha'e nae God at a'. For my ain pairt I ha'e been helpit, an'
I think it was him intil 't. Wi' his help, a man may warstle throu'
onything. I say I think it was himsel' tuik me throu' 't, an' here
I stan' afore ye, ready for the neist trible, an' the help 'at 'll
come wi' 't. What it may be, God only knows!"