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Updated: May 4, 2025
"I think it is." He laughed lightly. "Not a bit of it. It can easily be overcome. My name's Traill. I'm a barrister briefless the type of barrister that populates the Temple and all those places. One of these days I may come into my own; I may be conducting the leading cases at the criminal bar; I may be but it's not even one of my castles in the air." She smiled at his inconsequence.
The Castle pet had died, and Bobby was altogether too good a dog to be wasted on a moldy auld kirkyard and thrown on a dust-cart when he came to die. Mr. Traill resented the imputation. "He'll no' be thrown on a dust-cart!" The door was shut on the mocking retort "Hoo do ye ken he wullna?" And there was food for gloomy reflection.
And to Traill, she jested as they said good night "My dear boy, considering your obligations to other women, do you think it's fair? The girl's losing her heart to you, or will be if she sees you again." The congestion of the traffic, the knotted lines of carriages conveying to their houses the thousands of people whom the theatres had disgorged into the streets, enabled Sally to keep Mrs.
Bobby wagged his tail and lolled his tongue, and now and then he licked the hand of a baby who had to be lifted by a tall brother to see him. Shy kisses were dropped on Bobby's head by toddling bairns, and awkward caresses by rough laddies. Then they all went home quietly, and Mr. Traill carried the little dog around the kirk.
"Well, that's as it ought to be," he remarked. "Religion and music are two things a woman can't do without. Are you very religious?" "I don't know exactly what you mean by that. I'm afraid I hardly ever go to church, and in that sense, I suppose, I'm not religious. But I always say my prayers every night and morning." Traill smiled at her gently.
Durlacher's eyes lost no sight of that and she hurried quickly forwards. "My dear child, how sweet of you!" She kissed her cheek affectionately. "Let me introduce you to my brother." Traill turned and his mind was cast back to the night he had dined with his sister at the restaurant. This was the girl he had noticed; her father was the man who sat on boards in the city.
And all this time, Traill was looking at her with steady eyes, behind which the pendulum was once more set a-swinging. Should he tell her, should he not? Should he rip out the knife that would cut this knot which circumstances seemed to be tying? "You want to know exactly what it is," he said suddenly. "Then it's this. I'm not the type of man who marries.
That night when Sally returned from Kew, Traill had noticed her depression. "What's Miss Hallard been saying to you?" he asked. "Telling you that you're leading a terrible life, I suppose." "No, why should she? Do you think I am, Jack?" "Me? I should hope not, since I'm the cause of it. Do you feel you're doing anything very terrible?
Ailie's thin, swift legs were left behind when Bobby dashed to the kirkyard. Tammy followed at a surprising pace on his rude crutches, and Mr. Traill brought up the rear.
Traill's price for the little dog that took his eye, the landlord replied curtly that Bobby was not for sale. The soldier was insolently amused. "That's vera surprisin'. I aye thoucht an Edinburgh shopkeeper wad sell ilka thing he had, an' tak' the siller to bed wi' 'im to keep 'im snug the nicht." Mr. Traill returned, with brief sarcasm, that "his lairdship" had been misinformed.
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