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Scott, Walter, Sir, 1771-1832

"The Abbot"

Go to my lady, and swagger
before her, if thou darest--she will give thee proper cause of
offence, for she has waited for thee long and impatiently."
"And where then is the Lady of Lochleven?" said the page; "for I
conceive it is of her thou speakest."
"Ay--of whom else?" replied Dryfesdale; "or who besides the Lady
of Lochleven hath a right to command in this castle?"
"The Lady of Lochleven is thy mistress," said Roland Graeme; "but
mine is the Queen of Scotland."
The steward looked at him fixedly for a moment, with an air in which
suspicion and dislike were ill concealed by an affectation of
contempt. "The bragging cock-chicken," he said, "will betray himself
by his rash crowing. I have marked thy altered manner in the chapel of
late--ay, and your changing of glances at meal-time with a certain
idle damsel, who, like thyself, laughs at all gravity and goodness.
There is something about you, my master, which should be looked to.
But, if you would know whether the Lady of Lochleven, or that other
lady, hath a right to command thy service, thou wilt find them
together in the Lady Mary's ante-room."
Roland hastened thither, not unwilling to escape from the ill-natured
penetration of the old man, and marvelling at the same time what
peculiarity could have occasioned the Lady of Lochleven's being in the
Queen's apartment at this time of the afternoon, so much contrary to
her usual wont. His acuteness instantly penetrated the meaning.


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