CHAPTER THE ELEVENTH.
SIR PATRICK.
THE doubt was practically decided before Anne had determined what to do.
She was still at the window when the sitting-room door was thrown open, and Sir Patrick appeared, obsequiously shown in by Mr.Bishopriggs.
"Ye're kindly welcome, Sir Paitrick.

Hech, Sirs! the sight of you is gude for sair eyne." Sir Patrick turned and looked at Mr.Bishopriggs--as he might have looked at some troublesome insect which he had driven out of the window, and which had returned on him again.
"What, you scoundrel! have you drifted into an honest employment at last ?" Mr.Bishopriggs rubbed his hands cheerfully, and took his tone from his superior, with supple readiness, "Ye're always in the right of it, Sir Paitrick! Wut, raal wut in that aboot the honest employment, and me drifting into it.

Lord's sake, Sir, hoo well ye wear!" Dismissing Mr.Bishopriggs by a sign, Sir Patrick advanced to Anne.
"I am committing an intrusion, madam which must, I am afraid, appear unpardonable in your eyes," he said.

"May I hope you will excuse me when I have made you acquainted with my motive ?" He spoke with scrupulous politeness.

His knowledge of Anne was of the slightest possible kind.