"
"At yer ain pleasure, Sir," answered Mistress Inchbare. She turned, and
apologized to Anne (under protest), with a stiff courtesy. "No offense,
my leddy! Ye'll remember that ye cam' here alane, and that the hottle
has its ain gude name to keep up." Having once more vindicated "the
hottle," she made the long-desired move to the door, and left the room.
"I'm faint!" Anne whispered. "Give me some water."
There was no water on the table. Arnold ordered it of Mr.
Bishopriggs--who had remained passive in the back-ground (a model of
discreet attention) as long as the mistress was in the room.
"Mr. Brinkworth!" said Anne, when they were alone, "you are acting with
inexcusable rashness. That woman's question was an impertinence. Why did
you answer it? Why did you force me--?"
She stopped, unable to finish the sentence. Arnold insisted on her
drinking a glass of wine--and then defended himself with the patient
consideration for her which he had shown from the first.
"Why didn't I have the inn door shut in your face"--he asked, good
humoredly--"with a storm coming on, and without a place in which you can
take refuge? No, no, Miss Silvester! I don't presume to blame you for
any scruples you may feel--but scruples are sadly out of place with such
a woman as that landlady.
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