"True, my lord," said Richie, again waving his hand, as if to bespeak
his master's silence and attention; "so, I trust, you will think some
time hereafter. And, as I am about to leave your service, it is proper
that ye suld know the truth, that ye may consider the snares to which
your youth and innocence may be exposed, when aulder and doucer heads
are withdrawn from beside you.--There has been a lusty, good-looking
kimmer, of some forty, or bygane, making mony speerings about you, my
lord."
"Well, sir, what did she want with me?" said Lord Nigel.
"At first, my lord," replied his sapient follower, "as she seemed to
be a well-fashioned woman, and to take pleasure in sensible company, I
was no way reluctant to admit her to my conversation."
"I dare say not," said Lord Nigel; "nor unwilling to tell her about my
private affairs."
"Not I, truly, my lord," said the attendant;--"for, though she asked
me mony questions about your fame, your fortune, your business here,
and such like, I did not think it proper to tell her altogether the
truth thereanent."
"I see no call on you whatever," said Lord Nigel, "to tell the woman
either truth or lies upon what she had nothing to do with."
"I thought so, too, my lord," replied Richie, "and so I told her
neither."
"And what _did_ you tell her, then, you eternal babbler?" said his
master, impatient of his prate, yet curious to know what it was all to
end in.
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