“Your mother will never forgive me if you get into a scrape with that smooth-faced hussy; and if her father, honest man hasn’t eyes enough in his head, other people have—­ay, an’ tongues too, Mr. Sutherland.”

Hugh was on the point of forgetting his manners, and consigning all the above mentioned organs to perdition; but he managed to restrain his wrath, and merely said that Margaret was one of the best girls he had ever known, and that there was no possible danger of any kind of scrape with her.  This mode of argument, however, was not calculated to satisfy Mrs. Glasford.  She returned to the charge.

“She’s a sly puss, with her shy airs and graces.  Her father’s jist daft wi’ conceit o’ her, an’ it’s no to be surprised if she cast a glamour ower you.  Mr. Sutherland, ye’re but young yet.”

Hugh’s pride presented any alliance with a lassie who had herded the laird’s cows barefoot, and even now tended their own cow, as an all but inconceivable absurdity; and he resented, more than he could have thought possible, the entertainment of such a degrading idea in the mind of Mrs. Glasford.  Indignation prevented him from replying; while she went on, getting more vernacular as she proceeded.

“It’s no for lack o’ company ’at yer driven to seek theirs, I’m sure.  There’s twa as fine lads an’ gude scholars as ye’ll fin’ in the haill kintra-side, no to mention the laird and mysel’.”

But Hugh could bear it no longer; nor would he condescend to excuse or explain his conduct.

“Madam, I beg you will not mention this subject again.”

“But I will mention ‘t, Mr. Sutherlan’; an’ if ye’ll no listen to rizzon, I’ll go to them ’at maun do’t.”

“I am accountable to you, madam, for my conduct in your house, and for the way in which I discharge my duty to your children—­no further.”

“Do ye ca’ that dischairgin’ yer duty to my bairns, to set them the example o’ hingin’ at a quean’s apron-strings, and fillin’ her lug wi’ idle havers?  Ca’ ye that dischairgin’ yer duty?  My certie! a bonny dischairgin’!”

“I never see the girl but in her father and mother’s presence.”

“Weel, weel, Mr. Sutherlan’,” said Mrs. Glasford, in a final tone, and trying to smother the anger which she felt she had allowed to carry her further than was decorous, “we’ll say nae mair aboot it at present; but I maun jist speak to the laird himsel’, an’ see what he says till ’t.”

And, with this threat, she walked out of the room in what she considered a dignified manner.

Hugh was exceedingly annoyed at this treatment, and thought, at first, of throwing up his situation at once; but he got calmer by degrees, and saw that it would be to his own loss, and perhaps to the injury of his friends at the cottage.  So he took his revenge by recalling the excited face of Mrs. Glasford, whose nose had got as red with passion as the protuberance of a turkey-cock when gobbling out its unutterable feelings of disdain.  He dwelt upon this soothing contemplation till a fit of laughter relieved him, and he was able to go and join his pupils as if nothing had happened.