Alec had sat
down in Mr Cupples's easy-chair, and was staring at the fire.
"I see," muttered Mr Cupples. "This'll do no longer. The laddie's
gaein' to the dogs for want o' bein' luikit efter. I maun be up the
morn. It's thae wimmen! thae wimmen! Puir things! they canna aye help
it; but, de'il tak' them for bonnie oolets! mony's the fine laddie they
drive into the cluiks o' auld Horney. Michtna some gran' discovery be
made in Pheesiology, to enable the warl' to gang on wantin' them? But,
Lord preserve me! I wad hae naething left worth greetin' aboot!"
He hid his face in the bed-clothes.
Alec hearing part of this muttered discourse, had grown attentive, but
there was nothing more forthcoming. He sat for a little, staring
helplessly into the fire. The world was very blank and dismal.
Then he rose to go to bed; for Mr Cupples did not require him now.
Finding him fast asleep under the bed-clothes, he made him as
comfortable as he could. Then he locked the closet where the whisky
was, and took the key with him.
Their mutual care in this respect was comical.
CHAPTER LXX.
The next morning, Alec saw Mr Cupples in bed before he left. His
surprise therefore was great when, entering the library after morning
lectures, he found him seated in his usual place, hard at work on his
catalogue.
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