A gleam had come into Drumcarro’s eyes as she spoke, but he answered only by a loud and harsh laugh, leaning back in his chair and opening wide a great cavern of a mouth. “The deil’s in the woman for marrying and giving in marriage!” he said. “A bit lassie in a peenny? It’s a pity the Duke marriet, Marg’ret, but it cannot be mended. If she’s to get a prince he’ll come this way when she’s old enough. We’ll just wait till that time comes.”
“The time has come for the rest, if no for her,” said Marg’ret, unexpectedly encouraged by this tone. “And eh? if ye would but think, they’re young things, and youth comes but ance in a lifetime, and ye can never win it back when it’s past. The laddies, bless them, are all away to get their share; the lassies will never get as much, but just a bit triflin’ matter--a white gown to go to a pairty, or a sight of Glasgow, or--”
“The woman’s daft!” said the laird. “Glasgow! what will they do there? a white gown! a fiddlestick--what do they want that they haven’t got--plenty of good meat, and a good roof over their heads, and nothing to do for’t but sew their seams and knit their stockings and keep a pleasant tongue in their heads. If ye stir up nonsense among them, I’ll just turn ye bag and baggage out of my house.”
“I would advise ye to do that, sir,” said Marg’ret calmly. “I’ll no need a second telling. And ye’ll be sorry but ance for what ye have done, and that’ll be a’ your life.”
“Ye saucy jade!” said the laird: but though he glared at her with fiery eyes, he added no more on this subject. “The lassies!” he said, “a pingling set aye wanting something! To spend your money on feeding them and clothing them, that’s not enough it would appear! Ye must think of their finery, their parties and their pleasures. Tell Kirsteen she must get a man to do that for her. She’ll have no nonsense from me.”
“And where is she to get a man? And when she has gotten a man--the only kind that will come her gait--”
Mr. Douglas rose up from his chair, and shook his clenched first. Rage made him dumb. He stammered out an oath or two, incapable of giving vent to the torrent of wrath that came to his lips. But Marg’ret did not wait till his utterances became clear.