“A bonnie one you are to say a word against the mistress,” cried Janet; “and weemen, says he! I would just like to ken what would have become of ye, that were just as bad as ony in your young days, if it hadna been for the mistress and me?”
But on the particular evening on which Janet had bestowed her advice on the young men in the dining-room, they continued their conversation after she was gone in another tone. “That good woman would be a little startled if she knew what work we had been up to,” said Lewis; “and our tools, eh, Bob?” They both laughed again, and then he became suddenly serious. “All the same, there’s justice in what she says. We’ll have to be doing something to get a little money. Suppose we had to cut and run all of a sudden, as may happen any day, where should we get the needful, eh?”
“There’s my mother,” said Robert; “she’ll give me whatever I want.”
“She’s a brick of an old woman; but I don’t suppose, eh, Bob? she’s what you would call a millionaire.” Lew gave his friend a keen glance under his eyelids. His eyes were keen and bright, always alive and watchful like the eyes of a wild animal; whereas Robbie’s were a little heavy and veiled, rather furtive than watchful, perhaps afraid of approaching danger, but not keeping a keen look-out for it, like the other’s, on every side.
“No,” said Robert, with a curious brag and pride, “not a millionaire--just what you see--no splendour, but everything comfortable. She must have saved a lot of money while I was away. A woman has no expenses. And I’m all she has; she’ll give me whatever I want.”
“You are all she has, and she’ll give you--whatever you want.”
“Yes; is there anything wonderful in that? You say it in a tone----”
“We’re not on such terms as to question each other’s tones, are we?” said Lew. “Though I’m idle, as Janet says, I have always an eye to business, Bob. Never mind your mother; isn’t there some old buffer in the country that could spare us some of his gold? The nights are pretty dark now, though they don’t last long--eh, Bob?”
There was more a great deal than was open to a listening ear in the tone of the question. And Robert Ogilvy grew red to his hair. “For God’s sake,” he cried, “not a word of that here--in my own place, Lew! If there’s anything in the world you care for----”