To Be Trusted

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“Weel, I dinna jist richtly ken gien she kens, but I think she maun ha’e gude rizzon, or she wadna say as she says. Oh me! me! my bairnie ‘ill be scornin’ me sair whan he comes to ken. Ma’colm, ye’re the only ane ‘at disna luik doon upo’ me, an whan ye cam’ ower the tap o’ the Boar’s Tail, it was like an angel in a fire flaucht, an’ something inside me said–Tell ‘im; tell ‘im; an’ sae I bude to tell ye.”

Malcolm was even too simple to feel flattered by the girl’s confidence, though to be trusted is a greater compliment than to be loved.

“Hearken, Lizzy!” he said. “I canna e’en think, wi’ this brute ready ilka meenute to ate me up. I maun tak’ her hame. Efter that, gien ye wad like to tell me onything, I s’ be at yer service. Bide aboot here–or, luik ye: here’s the key o’ yon door; come throu’ that intil the park–throu’ aneth the toll ro’d, ye ken. There ye’ll get into the lythe (lee) wi’ the bairnie; an’ I’ll be wi’ ye in a quarter o’ an hoor. It’ll tak’ me but twa meenutes to gang hame. Stoat ‘ill put up the mere, and I’ll be back–I can du’t in ten meenutes.”
– George MacDonald. From The Marquis Of Lossie.

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