"
"On my word--on my honour," said Lord Glenvarloch--
"Nay, nay, make no words of the matter," said Lord Dalgarno; "I am no
tell-tale, nor shall I cross your walk; there is game enough in the
forest, thank Heaven, and I can strike a doe for myself."
All this he said in so significant a manner, and the explanation which
he had adopted seemed to put Lord Glenvarloch's gallantry on so
respectable a footing, that Nigel ceased to try to undeceive him; and
less ashamed, perhaps, (for such is human weakness,) of supposed vice
than of real poverty, changed the discourse to something else, and
left poor Dame Nelly's reputation and his own at the mercy of the
young courtier's misconstruction.
He offered refreshments with some hesitation. Lord Dalgarno had long
since breakfasted, but had just come from playing a set of tennis, he
said, and would willingly taste a cup of the pretty hostess's single
beer. This was easily procured, was drunk, was commended, and, as the
hostess failed not to bring the cup herself, Lord Dalgarno profited by
the opportunity to take a second and more attentive view of her, and
then gravely drank to her husband's health, with an almost
imperceptible nod to Lord Glenvarloch. Dame Nelly was much honoured,
smoothed her apron down with her hands, and said
"Her John was greatly and truly honoured by their lordships--he was a
kind painstaking man for his family, as was in the alley, or indeed,
as far north as Paul's Chain.
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