Chapter 11 - Page 2

then gravely drank to her husband's health, with an almost
imperceptible nod to Lord Glenvarloch. Dame Nelly was much honoured,
smoothed her apron down with her hands, and said

"Her John was greatly and truly honoured by their lordships--he was a
kind painstaking man for his family, as was in the alley, or indeed,
as far north as Paul's Chain."

She would have proceeded probably to state the difference betwixt
their ages, as the only alloy to their nuptial happiness; but her
lodger, who had no mind to be farther exposed to his gay friend's
raillery, gave her, contrary to his wont, a signal to leave the room.

Lord Dalgarno looked after her, and then looked at Glenvarloch, shook
his head, and repeated the well-known lines--

"'My lord, beware of jealousy--
It is the green-eyed monster which doth make
The meat it feeds on.'

"But come," he said, changing his tone, "I know not why I should worry
you thus--I who have so many follies of my own, when I should rather
make excuse for being here at all, and tell you wherefore I came."

So saying, he reached a seat, and, placing another for Lord
Glenvarloch, in spite of his anxious haste to anticipate this act of
courtesy, he proceeded in the same tone of easy familiarity:--

"We are neighbours, my lord, and are just made known to each other.
Now, I know enough of the dear North, to be well aware that Scottish
neighbours must be either dear friends or deadly enemies--must either
walk hand-in-hand, or stand sword-point to sword-point; so I choose
the hand-in-hand, unless you should reject my proffer."

"How were it possible, my lord," said Lord Glenvarloch, "to refuse
what is offered so frankly, even if your father had not been a second
father to me?"--And, as he took Lord Dalgarno's hand, he added--"I
have, I think, lost no time, since, during one day's attendance at
Court, I have made a kind friend and a powerful enemy."

"The friend thanks you," replied Lord Dalgarno, "for your just
opinion; but, my dear Glenvarloch--or rather, for titles are too
formal between us of the better file--what is your Christian name?"

"Nigel," replied Lord Glenvarloch.

"Then we will be Nigel and Malcolm to each other," said his visitor,
"and my lord to the plebeian world around us. But I was about to ask
you whom you suppose your enemy?"

"No less than the all-powerful favourite, the great Duke of
Buckingham."

"You dream! What could possess you with such an opinion?" said
Dalgarno.

"He told me so himself," replied Glenvarloch; "and, in so doing, dealt