one that they should talk so?
There are three hundred claymores would be leaping from the scabbard for
this. My grief! That they would talk so of my father's daughter."

She was superbly beautiful in her wrath. It was the black fury of the
Highland loch in storm that leaped now from her eyes. Like a caged and
wounded tigress she strode up and down the room, her hands clenched and
her breast heaving, an impetuous flood of Gaelic pouring from her mouth.

For most strange logic commend me to a woman's reasoning, I had been in no
way responsible for the scene down-stairs, but somehow she lumped me
blindly with the others in her mind, at least so far as to punish me
because I had seen and heard. Apparently 'twas enough that I was of their
race and class, for when during a pause I slipped in my word of soothing
explanation the uncorked vials of her rage showered down on me. Faith, I
began to think that old Jack Falstaff had the right of it in his rating of
discretion, and the maid appearing at that moment I showed a clean pair of
heels and left her alone with her mistress.

As I was descending the stairs a flunky in the livery of the Westerleighs
handed me a note. It was from Antoinette, and in a line requested me to
meet her at once in the summer-house of the garden. In days past I had
coquetted many an hour away with her. Indeed, years before we had been
lovers in half-earnest boy and girl fashion, and after that the best of
friends. Grimly I resolved to keep the appointment and to tell this little
worldling some things she needed much to know.

I found her waiting. Her back was turned, and though she must have heard
me coming she gave no sign. I was still angry at her for her share in what
had just happened and I waited coldly for her to begin. She joined me in
the eloquent silence of a Quaker meeting.

"Well, I am here," I said at last.

"Oh, it's you." She turned on me, mighty cold and haughty. "Sir, I take it
as a great presumption that you dare to stay at the same inn with me after
attempting to murder my husband that is to be."

"Murder!" I gasped, giving ground in dismay at this unexpected charge.

"Murder was the word I used, sir. Do you not like it?"

"'Twas a fair fight," I muttered.

"Was it not you that challenged? Did you not force it on him?"

"Yes, but----"

"And then you dare to come philandering here after me. Do you think I can
change lovers as often as gloves, sir? Or as often as you?"

"Mad