I asked him what he meant to do with all that enormous lot of horses, and why he had not exerted his wits to catch the red deer as well.  He said that the latter would have been against the laws of venery, and might have brought him into trouble, but as for disposing of his stud, it would give him little difficulty.  He would break them, when the spring weather came on, and deal with them as they required, and keep the handsomest for breeding.  The rest he would despatch to London, where he knew plenty of horse-dealers; and he doubted not that they would fetch him as much as ten pounds apiece all round, being now in great demand.  I told him I wished that he might get it; but as it proved afterwards, he did.

Then he pressed us both on another point, the time for his marriage to Annie; and mother looked at me to say when, and I looked back at mother.  However, knowing something of the world, and unable to make any further objection, by reason of his prosperity, I said that we must even do as the fashionable people did, and allow the maid herself to settle, when she would leave home and all.  And this I spoke with a very bad grace, being perhaps of an ancient cast, and over fond of honesty—­I mean, of course, among lower people.

But Tom paid little heed to this, knowing the world a great deal better than ever I could pretend to do; and being ready to take a thing, upon which he had set his mind, whether it came with a good grace, or whether it came with a bad one.  And seeing that it would be awkward to provoke my anger, he left the room, before more words, to submit himself to Annie.

Upon this I went in search of Lorna, to tell her of our cousin’s arrival, and to ask whether she would think fit to see him, or to dine by herself that day; for she should do exactly as it pleased her in everything, while remaining still our guest.  But I rather wished that she might choose not to sit in Tom’s company, though she might be introduced to him.  Not but what he could behave quite as well as could, and much better, as regarded elegance and assurance, only that his honesty had not been as one might desire.  But Lorna had some curiosity to know what this famous man was like, and declared that she would by all means have the pleasure of dining with him, if he did not object to her company on the ground of the Doones’ dishonesty; moreover, she said that it would seem a most foolish air on her part, and one which would cause the greatest pain to Annie, who had been so good to her, if she should refuse to sit at table with a man who held the King’s pardon, and was now a pattern of honesty.

Against this I had not a word to say; and could not help acknowledging in my heart that she was right, as well as wise, in her decision.  And afterwards I discovered that mother would have been much displeased, if she had decided otherwise.