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"Donal Grant, by George MacDonald"

What is it to them! I'll see to
them. It will all come right. The affair will settle itself. By
Jove, I'm sorry you interfered! The thing would have been much
better left alone."
"My lord," said Donal, "I can listen to nothing in this strain."
"All I ask is--promise not to interfere."
"I will not."
"Thank you."
"My lord, you mistake. I will not promise. Nay, I will interfere.
What to do, I do not now know; but I will save the girl if I can."
"And ruin an ancient family! You think nothing of that!"
"Its honour, my lord, will be best preserved in that of the girl."
"Damn you? will you preach to me?"
Notwithstanding his fierce words, Donal could not help seeing or
imagining an almost suppliant look in his eye.
"You must do as I tell you in my house," he went on, "or you will
soon see the outside of it. Come: marry the girl yourself--she is
deuced pretty--and I will give you five hundred pounds for your
wedding journey.--Poor Davie!"
"Your lordship insults me."
"Then, damn you! be off to your lessons, and take your insolent face
out of my sight."
"If I remain in your house, my lord, it is for Davie's sake."
"Go away," said the earl; and Donal went.
He had hardly closed the door behind him, when he heard a bell ring
violently; and ere he reached the bottom of the stair, he met the
butler panting up as fast as his short legs and red nose would
permit.


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