Oliver, I have the privilege of introducing you
to the Lady Ogilvie."
I bent in the middle again and gabbled something. It was suitable to the
occasion, I hope.
Lady Ogilvie eyed me up and down carefully, much as I should overlook a
bullock I had a mind to buy.
"When Davie left me at Macclesfield I told him I'd be guid, and I will be
guid, but I wish he hadn't asked me," she said. "Never mind! At Derby,
when we meet again, my promise will be lapsed, and I shall flirt with you,
sir, most furiously."
"Really, my lady," I replied, "my knowledge of the art of flirtation is
merely rudimentary, but I always understood that it required two."
"Naturally," she retorted, "that's its great charm."
"I see my mistake now," said I, as if thoughtfully. Margaret sat with her
needle poised for a stitch, and waited.
"You're learning already, you see! What is it?" said Lady Ogilvie.
"One and a bit would suffice when your ladyship was the one," I said
boldly.
Margaret laughed and resumed the swift play of her needle.
"Indeed so, and I've struck sparks out of turnips in my time," she
replied, with much complaisance.
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