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Updated: June 5, 2025
"I saw a face," she said, "a white face!" "Whaur?" "Beyond you a little way near the ground," she answered, in a tremulous whisper. "It's as dark's pick!" said Malcolm, as if thinking it to himself. He knew well enough that it must be the laird or Phemy, but he was anxious the marquis should not learn the secret of the laird's refuge. "I saw a face anyhow," said Florimel.
"He was to come from Fochabers tonight. Stoat took the bay mare to meet him yesterday." "He wad never start in sic a win'! It's fit to blaw the saiddle aff o' the mear's back." "He may have started before it came on to blow like this," said Lady Florimel. Malcolm liked the suggestion the less because of its probability, believing, in that case, he should have arrived long ago.
It was a forescent even this could not be called a foretaste, of the kingdom of heaven; but Florimel never thought of the kingdom of heaven, the ideal of her own existence. She could however half appreciate this earthly outbreak of its glory, this incarnation of truth invisible. Round her, like a thousand doves, clamoured with greeting wings the joyous sea wind.
"The moment fortune offers you favour, you fall out with her won't give her a single smile. You don't deserve your good luck." Malcolm was silent. "There's something on your mind," Florimel went on, partly from willingness to serve Mrs Stewart, partly enticed by the romance of being Malcolm's comforter, or perhaps confessor. "Ay is there, my leddy." "What is it? Tell me. You can trust me!"
I am sorry for you, Malcolm, as I said already; but you have altogether missed your mark if you think that can alter facts, or shelter you from the consequences of presumption." Again she turned away. Malcolm's heart was sore for her. How grievously she had sunk from the Lady Florimel of the old days! It was all from being so constantly with that wretched woman and her vile nephew.
Had Florimel been open with her, and told her what sort of inferior was in her thoughts, instead of representing the gulf between them as big enough to swallow the city of Rome; had she told her that he was a gentleman, a man of genius and gifts, noble and large hearted, and indeed better bred than any other man she knew, the fact of his profession would only have clenched Lady Clementina's decision in his favour; and if Florimel had been honest enough to confess the encouragement she had given him nay, the absolute love passages there had been, Clementina would at once have insisted that her friend should write an apology for her behaviour to him, should dare the dastard world, and offer to marry him when he would.
Once more I pray you to give up this man to let your true self speak and send him away." "Sir, I go with my Lady Bellair, driven from my father's house by one who calls himself my brother. My lawyer shall make inquiries." She would have left the room, but he intercepted her. "Florimel," he said, "you are casting the pearl of your womanhood before a swine.
With her passion for redemption therefore, she seized every chance of improving her acquaintance with Florimel, and it was her anxiety to gain such a standing in her favour as might further her coveted ministration, that had prevented her from bringing her charge of brutality against Malcolm as soon as she discovered whose groom he was: when she had secured her footing on the peak of her friendship, she would unburden her soul, and meantime the horse must suffer for his mistress a conclusion in itself a great step in advance, for it went dead against one of her most confidently argued principles, namely, that the pain of any animal is, in every sense, of just as much consequence as the pain of any other, human or inferior: pain is pain, she said; and equal pains are equal wherever they sting; in which she would have been right, I think, if pain and suffering were the same thing; but, knowing well that the same degree and even the same kind of pain means two very different things in the foot and in the head, I refuse the proposition.
"But it's the first thing you would do that I want to know," persisted the girl. "I tell't ye I wad sit doon an' think aboot it." "I don't count that doing anything." "'Deed, my leddy! thinkin 's the hardest wark I ken." "Well, what is it you would think about first?" said Florimel not to be diverted from her course. "Ow, the third thing I wad du "
When she apologised for being late, Florimel said she supposed her groom had brought round the horses before his time; being ready, she had not looked at her watch. She was sharp on other people for telling stories but had of late ceased to see any great harm in telling one to protect herself.
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