“Hae ye dune onything my lord,” he said, “aboot Mistress Catanach?”
“What do you mean?”
“Anent yon cat-prowl aboot the hoose, my lord.”
“No. You haven’t discovered anything more—have you?”
“Na, my lord; I haena had a chance. But ye may be sure she had nae guid design in ’t.”
“I don’t suspect her of any.”
“Weel, my lord, hae ye ony objection to lat me sleep up yonner?”
“None at all—only you’d better see what Mrs Courthope has to say to it. Perhaps you won’t be so ready after you hear her story.”
“But I hae yer lordship’s leave to tak ony room I like?”
“Certainly. Go to Mrs Courthope, and tell her I wish you to choose your own quarters.”