"Who are you speaking of?" asked Malcolm, anxious to hear the talk
of the household on the matter.

"Why, Lady Lossie, of course. Anybody with half an eye can see as
much as that."

"Is it settled then?"

"That would be hard to say. Her ladyship is too like her father: no
one can tell what may be her mind the next minute. But, as I say,
she's young, and ought to have her fling first--so far, that
is, as we can permit it to a woman of her rank. Still, as I say,
anybody with half an eye can see the end of it all: he's for ever
hovering about her. My lady, too, has set her mind on it, and for
my part I can't see what better she can do. I must say I approve
of the match. I can see no possible objection to it."

"We used to think he drank too much," suggested Malcolm.

"Claret," said Wallis, in a tone that seemed to imply no one could
drink too much of that.

"No, not claret only. I've seen the whisky follow the claret."

"Well, he don't now--not whisky at least. He don't drink too
much--not much too much--not more than a gentleman should. He
don't look like it--does he now? A good wife, such as my Lady
Lossie will make him, will soon set him all right. I think of taking
a similar protection myself, one of these days."