who has no relish
for my company."

"I would not take you away from your marketing for the world," she
proceeded. "Perhaps Elrigmore may be inclined to go up to the camp too;
he may help you to the pick of your horse--and we'll believe you the
soldier of fortune again when we see you one."

She, at least, had no belief that the mine-manager was to be a mercenary
again. She tapped with a tiny toe on the pebbles, affecting a choler the
twinkle in her eyes did not homologate. It was enough for M'Iver, who
gave a "Pshaw!" and concluded he might as well, as he said, "be in good
company so long as he had the chance," and down the way again we went.
Somehow the check had put him on his mettle. He seemed to lose at once
all regard for my interests in this. I became in truth, more frequently
than was palatable, the butt of his little pleasantries; my mysterious
saunter up that glen, my sobriety of demeanour, my now silence-all those
things, whose meaning he knew very well, were made the text for his
amusement for the lady. As for me, I took it all weakly, striving to
meet his wit with careless smiles.

For the first time, I was seized with a jealousy of him. Here was I,
your arrant rustic; he was as composed as could be, overflowing with
happy thoughts, laughable incident, and ever ready with the compliment
or the retort women love to hear from a smart fellow of even indifferent
character. I ic had the policy to conceal the vanity that was for
ordinary his most transparent feature, and his trick was to admire the
valour and the humour of others. Our wanderings in Lorn and I-ochaber,
our adventures with the MacDonalds, all the story of the expedition, he
danced through, as it were, on the tip-toe of light phrase, as if it had
Ixrcn a strong man's scheme of recreation, scarcely once appealing to ma
With a Mushed cheek and parted lips the lady hung upon his words, arched
her dark eyebrows in fear, or bubbled into the merriest laughter as the
occasion demanded. Worst of all, she teemed to share his amusement at
my silence, and then I could have wished rather than a bag of gold I had
the Mull witch's invisible coat, or that the earth would swallow me
up. The very country-people passing on the way were art and part in
the conspiracy of circumstances to make me unhappy. Their salutes were
rarely for Elrigmore, but for the lady and John Splendid, whose bold
quarrel with MacCailein Mor was now the rumour of two parishes, and gave
him