bitterly.

She was in this situation when Lord Ipsden, who was prowling about,
examining the proportions of the boats, discovered her.

"Some one in distress--that was all in his way."

"Madam!" said he.

She lifted up her head.

"It is Christie Johnstone. I'm so glad; that is, I'm sorry you are
crying, but I'm glad I shall have the pleasure of relieving you;" and
his lordship began to feel for a check-book.

"And div ye really think siller's a cure for every grief!" said
Christie, bitterly.

"I don't know," said his lordship; "it has cured them all as yet."

"It will na cure me, then!" and she covered her head with her apron
again.

"I am very sorry," said he; "tell me" _(whispering),_ "what is it? poor
little Christie!"

"Dinna speak to me; I think shame; ask Jean. Oh, Richard, I'll no be
lang in this warld!!!"

"Ah!" said he, "I know too well what it is now; I know, by sad
experience. But, Christie, money will cure it in your case, and it
shall, too; only, instead of five pounds, we must put a thousand pounds
or two to your banker's account, and then they will all see your beauty,
and run after you."

"How daur ye even to me that I'm seekin a lad?" cried she, rising from
her stool; "I would na care suppose there was na a lad in Britain." And
off she flounced.

"Offended her by my gross want of tact," thought the viscount.

She crept back, and two velvet lips touched his hand. That was because
she had spoken harshly to a friend.

"Oh, Richard," said she, despairingly, "I'll no be lang in this warld."

He was touched; and it was then he took her head and kissed her brow,
and said: "This will never do. My child, go home and have a nice cry,
and I will speak to Jean; and, rely upon me, I will not leave the
neighborhood till I have arranged it all to your satisfaction."

And so she went--a little, a very little, comforted by his tone and
words.

Now this was all very pretty; but then seen at a distance of fifty yards
it looked very ugly; and Gatty, who had never before known jealousy, the
strongest and worst of human passions, was ripe for anything.

He met Lord Ipsden, and said at once, in his wise, temperate way:

"Sir, you are a villain!"

_Ipsden. "Plait-il?"_

_Gatty._ "You are a villain!"

_Ipsden._ "How do you make that out?"

_Gatty._ "But, of course, you are not a coward, too."

_Ipsden (ironically)._ "You surprise me with your moderation, sir."

_Gatty._ "Then you will waive yo