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The marquis was loved by his domestics; and his accident, with its consequences, although none more serious were anticipated, cast a gloom over Lossie House. Far apart as was his chamber from all the centres of domestic life, the pulses of his suffering beat as it were through the house, and the servants moved with hushed voice and gentle footfall.
"If Miss Campbell was his mother," said the marquis. "Miss Cam'ell!" cried Miss Horn. "I'll thank yer lordship to ca' her by her ain, an' that's Lady Lossie." What of the something ruinous heart of the marquis was habitable was occupied by his daughter, and had no accommodation at present either for his dead wife or his living son. Once more he sat thinking in silence for a while.
He spoke but one word when she took him by the hand to lead him to the room where her cousin used to sleep: "Father o' lichts!" he said, and no more. Malcolm put him to bed, where he lay perfectly still, whether awake or asleep they could not tell. He then set out to go back to Lossie House, promising to return after he had taken his grandfather home, and seen him also safe in bed.
Florimel drew herself up, and would have looked him to ashes if wrath could burn. Malcolm saw he must come to the point at once or the parley would cease. "My lady," he said, "your father was my father too. I am a son of the Marquis of Lossie, and your brother your ladyship's half brother, that is." She looked a little stunned. The gleam died out of her eyes, and the glow out of her cheek.
On the present occasion, however, Malcolm did not find the said observances dreary, for he observed nothing but the vision which radiated from the dusk of the small gallery forming Lossie pew, directly opposite the Norman canopy and stone crusader.
Jeff nearly broke down here. "Uncle Hugh, I may go to London and meet her next week." The passionate pleading of the boy's voice in the last words was indescribable. He had grown used to negatives presented to his requests during his stay at Loch Lossie, but this was a widely different and an urgent matter. "I think, my boy, it will be better not.
"And, in conclusion, why should you hear from any lips but my own, that this lady beside me, the daughter of an English earl of ancient house, has honoured the house of Lossie by consenting to become its marchioness?
He was fond of practical jokes, and would not hesitate to indulge himself even in such as were incompatible with any genuine refinement: the sort had been in vogue in his merrier days, and Lord Lossie had ever been one of the most fertile in inventing, and loudest in enjoying them.
Malcolm would have been ready enough for a fight, had he and the marquis been alone, but the presence of Lady Florimel put it out of the question. Looking round, he sought the eye of his master. Had Lord Lossie been wise, he would at once have yielded, and sat down to endure to the end. But he jumped on the form next him, and appealed to the common sense of the assembly.
"Take her into the park early in the morning, and gallop her round. Only mind she don't break your neck. What can have made Lady Lossie send for such a devil as that!" Malcolm held his peace. "I'll try her myself some morning," said his lordship, who thought himself a better horseman than he was. "I wouldn't advise you, my lord." "Who the devil asked your advice?"
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