“What can I du wi’ what I wadna pass throu’ my fingers?” said Malcolm with the patience of deep disappointment.
“Give it to some poor creature: you know some one who would be glad of it, I daresay.”
“I ken mony ane, my leddy, wham it wad weel become yer ain bonny han’ to gie ’t till; but I’m no gaein’ to tak’ credit fer a leeberality that wad ill become me.”
“You can tell how you earned it.”
“And profess mysel’ disgraced by takin’ a reward frae a born leddy for what I wad hae dune for ony beggar wife i’ the lan’. Na, na, my leddy.”
“Your services are certainly flattering, when you put me on a level with any beggar in the country!”
“In regaird o’ sic service, my leddy: ye ken weel eneuch what I mean. Obleege me by takin’ back yer siller.”
“How dare you ask me to take back what I once gave?”
“Ye cudna hae kent what ye was doin’ whan ye gae ’t, my leddy. Tak it back, an tak a hunnerweicht aff o’ my hert.”
He actually mentioned his heart!—was it to be borne by a girl in Lady Florimel’s mood?