The leddy's your
leddy, as sure as saxpence. I doot," said Mr. Bishopriggs, walking away
to the window, "_that's_ what ye've got to do with it."
Arnold looked at Anne.
"Do you expect any body?"
"Is it Geoffrey?"
"Impossible. Geoffrey is on his way to London."
"There he is, any way," resumed Mr. Bishopriggs, at the window. "He's
loupin' down from his horse. He's turning this way. Lord save us!" he
exclaimed, with a start of consternation, "what do I see? That incarnate
deevil, Sir Paitrick himself!"
Arnold sprang to his feet.
"Do you mean Sir Patrick Lundie?"
Anne ran to the window.
"It _is_ Sir Patrick!" she said. "Hide yourself before he comes in!"
"Hide myself?"
"What will he think if he sees you with _me?"_
He was Blanche's guardian, and he believed Arnold to be at that moment
visiting his new property. What he would think was not difficult to
foresee. Arnold turned for help to Mr. Bishopriggs.
"Where can I go?"
Mr. Bishopriggs pointed to the bedroom door.
"Whar' can ye go? There's the nuptial chamber!"
"Impossible!"
Mr. Bishopriggs expressed the utmost extremity of human amazement by a
long whistle, on one note.
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