an' weel--in a better place, if
no here to luik efter my leddy yersel'."

"Oh, I dare say," muttered the marquis.

"But ye'll hearken to the doctors, my lord," Malcolm went on, "an' no
dee wantin' time to consider o' 't."

"Yes, yes: to-morrow I'll have another talk with them. We'll see about
it. There's time enough yet. They're all coxcombs, every one of them.
They never give a patient the least credit for common sense."

"I dinna ken, my lord," said Malcolm doubtfully.

After a few minutes' silence, during which Malcolm thought he had
fallen asleep, the marquis resumed abruptly. "What do you mean by
giving you a legal right?" he said.

"There's some w'y o' makin' ae body guairdian till anither, sae 'at
the law 'll uphaud him--isna there, my lord?"

"Yes, surely. Well! Rather odd--wouldn't it be?--a young fisher-lad
guardian to a marchioness! Eh? They say there's nothing new under the
sun, but that sounds rather like it, I think."

Malcolm was overjoyed to hear him speak with something like his old
manner. He felt he could stand any amount of chaff from him now, and
so the proposition he had made in seriousness he went on to defend in
the hope of giving amusement, yet with a secret wild delight in the
dream of such full devotion to the service of Lady Florimel.

"It wad soon' queer eneuch, my lord, nae doobt, but fowk maunna min'
the soon' o' a thing gien 't be a' straucht an' fair, an' strong
eneuch to stan'. They cudna lauch me oot o' my richts, be they 'at
they likit--Lady Bellair or ony o' them--na, nor jaw me oot o' them
aither."

"They might do a good deal to render those rights of little use," said
the marquis.

"That wad come till a trial o' brains, my lord," returned Malcolm:
"an' ye dinna think I wadna hae the wit to speir advice; an', what's
mair, to ken whan it was guid, an' tak it. There's lawyers, my lord."

"And their expenses?"

"Ye cud lea' sae muckle to be waured (_spent_) upo' the cairryin' oot
o' yer lordship's wull."

"Who would see that you applied it properly?"

"My ain conscience, my lord, or Mr. Graham gien ye likit."

"And how would you live yourself?"

"Ow! lea' ye that to me, my lord. Only dinna imagine I wad be behauden
to yer lordship. I houp I hae mair pride nor that. Ilka poun'-not',
shillin' an' bawbee sud be laid oot for _her_, an' what was left
hainet (_saved_) for her."

"By Jove! it's a daring proposal!" said the marquis; and, which seemed
strange to Malcolm