ad like to see ye, Ma'colm, as sune 's ye can gang till 'im."

She waited no reply. Malcolm rose and went.

At the factor's the door was opened by Mrs. Crathie herself, who, looking
mysterious, led him to the dining-room, where she plunged at once into
business, doing her best to keep down all manifestation of the profound
resentment she cherished against him. Her manner was confidential, almost
coaxing. "Ye see, Ma'colm," she said, as if pursuing instead of commencing
a conversation, "he's some sore about the _fraicass_ between him an' you.
Jest make your apoalogies till 'im, an' tell 'im you had a drop too much,
and you're soary for misbehavin' yerself to wann sae much your shuperrior.
Tell 'im that, Ma'colm, an' there's a half-croon to ye."

She wished much to speak English, and I have tried to represent the thing
she did speak, which was neither honest Scotch nor anything like English.
Alas! the good, pithy, old Anglo-Saxon dialect is fast perishing, and a
jargon of corrupt English taking its place!

"But, mem," said Malcolm, taking no notice either of the coin or the words
that accompanied the offer of it, "I canna lee: I wasna in drink, an' I'm
no sorry."

"Hoot!" returned Mrs. Crathie, blurting out her Scotch fast enough now, "I
s' warran' ye can lee weel eneuch whan ye hae occasion. Tak yer siller an'
du as I tell ye."

"Wad ye hae me damned, mem?"

Mrs. Crathie gave a cry and held up her hands. She was too well accustomed
to imprecations from the lips of her husband for any but an affected
horror, but, regarding the honest word as a bad one, she assumed an air of
injury. "Wad ye daur to sweir afore a leddy?" she exclaimed, shaking her
uplifted hands in pretence of ghasted astonishment.

"If Mr. Crathie wishes to see me, ma'am," rejoined Malcolm, taking up the
shield of English, "I am ready. If not, please allow me to go."

The same moment the bell whose rope was at the head of the factor's bed
rang violently, and Mrs. Crathie's importance collapsed. "Come this w'y,"
she said, and turning led him up the stair to the room where her husband
lay.

Entering, Malcolm stood astonished at the change he saw upon the strong
man of rubicund countenance, and his heart filled with compassion. The
factor was sitting up in bed, looking very white and worn and troubled.
Even his nose had grown thin and white. He held out his hand to him, and
said to his wife, "Tak the door to ye, Mistress Crathie," indicating which