Oh, Richard, I'll no be lang in this warld!!!" "Ah!" said he, "I know too well what it is now; I know, by sad experience.

But, Christie, money will cure it in your case, and it shall, too; only, instead of five pounds, we must put a thousand pounds or two to your banker's account, and then they will all see your beauty, and run after you." "How daur ye even to me that I'm seekin a lad ?" cried she, rising from her stool; "I would na care suppose there was na a lad in Britain." And off she flounced.
"Offended her by my gross want of tact," thought the viscount.
She crept back, and two velvet lips touched his hand.

That was because she had spoken harshly to a friend.
"Oh, Richard," said she, despairingly, "I'll no be lang in this warld." He was touched; and it was then he took her head and kissed her brow, and said: "This will never do.

My child, go home and have a nice cry, and I will speak to Jean; and, rely upon me, I will not leave the neighborhood till I have arranged it all to your satisfaction." And so she went--a little, a very little, comforted by his tone and words.
Now this was all very pretty; but then seen at a distance of fifty yards it looked very ugly; and Gatty, who had never before known jealousy, the strongest and worst of human passions, was ripe for anything.
He met Lord Ipsden, and said at once, in his wise, temperate way: "Sir, you are a villain!" _Ipsden.

"Plait-il ?"_ _Gatty._ "You are a villain!" _Ipsden._ "How do you make that out ?" _Gatty._ "But, of course, you are not a coward, too." _Ipsden (ironically)._ "You surprise me with your moderation, sir." _Gatty._ "Then you will waive your rank--you are a lord, I believe-and give me satisfaction." _Ipsden._ "My rank, sir, such as it is, engages me to give a proper answer to proposals of this sort; I am at your orders." _Gatty._ "A man of your character must often have been called to an account by your victims, so--so--" (hesitating) "perhaps you will tell me the proper course." _Ipsden.