So he had with some difficulty cleared away the mists that clung about the words, till at length he beheld and understood the fact embodied in them.
Alec had never had praise from Mr Malison before--at least none that had made any impression on him--and he found it very sweet.

And through the pleasure dawned the notion that perhaps he might be a scholar after all if he gave his mind to it.

In this he was so far right: a fair scholar he might be, though a learned man he never could be, without developing an amount of will, and effecting a degree of self-conquest, sufficient for a Jesuit,--losing at the same time not only what he was especially made for knowing, but, in a great measure, what he was especially made for being.

Few, however, are in danger of going so grievously against the intellectual impulses of their nature: far more are in danger of following them without earnestness, or if earnestly, then with the absorption of an eagerness only worldly.
Mrs Forbes, seeing the pleasure expressed on Alec's countenance, received Mr Malison with more than the usual cordiality, forgetting when he was present before her eyes what she had never failed to think of with bitterness when he was only present to her mind.
As soon as dinner was over Alec rushed off to the river, leaving his mother and the master together.

Mrs Forbes brought out the whisky-bottle, and Mr Malison, mixing a tumbler of toddy, filled a wine-glass for his hostess.
"We'll make a man of Alec some day yet," said he, giving an ill-considered form to his thoughts.
"'Deed!" returned Mrs Forbes, irritated at the suggestion of any difficulty in the way of Alec's ultimate manhood, and perhaps glad of the opportunity of speaking her mind--"'Deed! Mr Malison, ye made a bonnie munsie (monsieur) o' him a month ago.