He threw a discouraging flavour into the remark, but its real object was to lure Lady Coote on to her destruction.
“If it was cleared up and—er—cut—and—er—all that sort of thing,” she went on hopefully.
“Aye,” said MacDonald slowly. “It could be done. But it would mean taking William from the lower border.”
“Oh!” said Lady Coote doubtfully. The words “lower border” conveyed absolutely nothing to her mind—except a vague suggestion of a Scottish song—but it was clear that to MacDonald they constituted an insuperable objection.
“And that would be a pity,” said MacDonald.
“Oh, of course,” said Lady Coote. “It would .” And wondered why she agreed so fervently.
MacDonald looked at her very hard.
“Of course,” he said, “if it’s your orders , m’lady—”
He left it like that. But his menacing tone was too much for Lady Coote. She capitulated at once.
“Oh, no,” she said. “I see what you mean, MacDonald. N-no—William had better get on with the lower border.”
“That’s what I thocht meself, m’lady.”
“Yes,” said Lady Coote. “Yes. Certainly.”
“I thocht you’d agree, m’lady,” said MacDonald.
“Oh, certainly,” said Lady Coote again.