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MacDonald, George, 1824-1905

"The Marquis of Lossie"


"Hardly against your will, my lady," said Malcolm, embarrassed and
thoughtful, in a tone deprecating and apologetic.
"Utterly against my will!" insisted Florimel. "Could I ever have
consented to go to sea with a boatful of men, and not a woman on
board? You have disgraced me, Malcolm."
Between anger and annoyance she was on the point of crying.
"It's not so bad as that, my lady.--Here, Rose!"
At his word, Rose appeared.
"I've brought one of Lady Bellair's maids for your service, my
lady," Malcolm went on. "She will do the best she can to wait on
you."
Florimel gave her a look.
"I don't remember you," she said.
"No, my lady. I was in the kitchen."
"Then you can't be of much use to me."
"A willing heart goes a long way, my lady," said Rose, prettily.
"That is fine," returned Florimel, rather pleased. "Can you get me
some tea?"
"Yes, my lady."
Florimel turned, and, much to Malcolm's content vouchsafing him
not a word more, went below.
Presently a little silver lamp appeared in the roof of the cabin,
and in a few minutes Davy came, carrying the tea tray, and followed
by Rose with the teapot. As soon as they were alone, Florimel began
to question Rose; but the girl soon satisfied her that she knew
little or nothing.
When Florimel pressed her how she could go she knew not where at the
desire of a fellow servant, she gave such confused and apparently
contradictory answers, that Florimel began to think ill of both
her and Malcolm, and to feel more uncomfortable and indignant; and
the more she dwelt upon Malcolm's presumption, and speculated as
to his possible design in it, she grew the angrier.


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