His guest had for the last few minutes been behaving so much like a civilized being, that he was not prepared for such a sudden relapse into barbarity.

But the entrance of Lady Joan, looking radiant, diverted the current of things.
The fact was, that, like not a few old people, Lord Mergwain had fallen into such a habit of speaking in his worse moods without the least restraint, that in his better moods, which were indeed only good by comparison, he spoke in the same way, without being aware of it, and of himself seldom discovering that he had spoken.
The rest of the breakfast passed in peace.

The visitors had tea, oatcake, and scons, with fresh butter and jam; and Lady Joan, for all the frost and snow, had yet a new-laid egg--the only one; while the laird and Cosmo ate their porridge and milk--the latter very scanty at this season of the year, and tasting not a little of turnip--and Grizzie, seated on a stool at some distance from the table, took her porridge with treacle.

Mrs.Warlock had not yet left her room.
When the meal was over, Lord Mergwain turned to his host, and said, "Will you oblige me, Mr.Warlock, by sending orders to my coachman to have the horses put to as quickly as possible: we must not trespass more on your hospitality .-- Confound me if I stop an hour longer in this hole of a place, though it be daylight!" "Papa!" cried Lady Joan.
His lordship understood, looked a little confused, and with much readiness sought to put the best face on his blunder.
"Pardon me, Mr.Warlock," he said; "I have always had a bad habit of speech, and now that I am an old man, I don't improve on it." "Don't mention it, my lord," returned the laird.

"I will go and see about the carriage; but I am more than doubtful." He left the kitchen, and Cosmo followed him.