“I maun luik to yer lordship for the necessar’ directions,” rejoined Malcolm.
“Your tongue’s long enough to inquire as you go,” said the marquis.
A reply in the same strain rushed to Malcolm’s lips, but he checked himself in time, and stood silent, with his bonnet in his hand, fronting the two. The marquis sat gazing as if he had nothing to say to him, but after a few moments the lady spoke—not to Malcolm, however.
“Is there any danger in boating here, papa?” she said.
“Not more, I daresay, than there ought to be,” replied the marquis listlessly. “Why do you ask?”
“Because I should so like a row! I want to see how the shore looks to the mermaids.”
“Well, I will take you some day, if we can find a proper boat.”
“Is yours a proper boat?” she asked, turning to Malcolm with a sparkle of fun in her eyes.
“That depen’s on my lord’s definition o’ proper.”
“Definition!” repeated the marquis.