"
"Are you not afraid," said Lord Glenvarloch, "that in such company his
morals may become depraved?"
"Let his company look to their own," answered Lord Dalgarno, cooly;
"for it will be a company of real fiends in which Lutin cannot teach
more mischief than he can learn: he is, I thank the gods, most
thoroughly versed in evil for his years. I am spared the trouble of
looking after his moralities, for nothing can make them either better
or worse."
"I wonder you can answer this to his parents, my lord," said Nigel.
"I wonder where I should find his parents," replied his companion, "to
render an account to them."
"He may be an orphan," said Lord Nigel; "but surely, being a page in
your lordship's family, his parents must be of rank."
"Of as high rank as the gallows could exalt them to," replied Lord
Dalgarno, with the same indifference; "they were both hanged, I
believe--at least the gipsies, from whom I bought him five years ago,
intimated as much to me.--You are surprised at this, now. But is it
not better that, instead of a lazy, conceited, whey-faced slip of
gentility, to whom, in your old-world idea of the matter, I was bound
to stand Sir Pedagogue, and see that he washed his hands and face,
said his prayers, learned his acddens, spoke no naughty words, brushed
his hat, and wore his best doublet only on Sunday,--that, instead of
such a Jacky Goodchild, I should have something like this?"
He whistled shrill and clear, and the page he spoke of darted into the
room, almost with the effect of an actual apparition.
Pages:
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251