Mistress and maid rode home together in silence. The moment Florimel
heard Malcolm's voice she had left the house. Caley following had
heard enough to know that there was a scuffle at least going on
in the study, and her eye witnessed against her heart that Liftore
could have no chance with the detested groom if the respect of the
latter gave way: would MacPhail thrash his lordship? If he did,
it would be well she should know it. In the hoped event of his
lordship's marrying her mistress, it was desirable, not only that
she should be in favour with both of them, but that she should
have some hold upon each of a more certainly enduring nature: if
she held secrets with husband and wife separately, she would be
in clover for the period of her natural existence. As to Florimel,
she was enraged at the liberties Liftore had taken with her. But
alas! was she not in some degree in his power? He had found her
there, and in tears! How did he come to be there? If Malcolm's
judgment of her was correct, Caley might have told him. Was she
already false? She pondered within herself, and cast no look upon
her maid until she had concluded how best to carry herself towards
the earl. Then glancing at the hooded cobra beside her--"What
an awkward thing that Lord Liftore, of all moments, should appear
just then!" she said.
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