human
Very interesting, Mr.----
gpt
Fairnish, Robairt Fairnish.
human
Mr. Fairnish. And what about the rest of the family? Mean also?
gpt
Aw no, sair. Not Mistair Ross, at any rate, nor Miss Duggan, either, supplemented Mr. Fairnish, lighting his pipe with one horny hand and leaning out over the bar the better to address Cleek.
human
Another ale, sair?--cairtainly. Mr. Ross, now. A fine fellow, in spite of his strrange ways and his wonderful apparatus. He's lit th' whole Castle with electricity, sair; and Sair Andrew has no got ovair the effect o' it yet. He does nought but grrumble and growl at Mistair Ross for th' expainse and th' noosence of it, until, so I haird, th' Castle be no pleasant spot to live in. And his wife, Lady Paula Duggan----
gpt
You don't like the lady of the Castle, then, Mr. Fairnish?
human
Like her, do ye say, sair? Like her! Show me th' pairson in th' whole deestrict that does, and I'll tell him he's a liarr--if ye'll pardon my language. There's nought in the countryside that does like her--a black-haired, weecked foreigner like hersai'f--though ye'll no repeat my worrds, I pray, or 'twould go harrd with Robairt Fairnish when next rrent-day comes round. But never a bairnie that has ought to say that's plaisant o' her--th' black-eyed witch-wummun! An' that's a fact. She speaks a heathen tongue, sair, an' I never trusts a foreigner. They're suspeeshus characters, the best o' them.
gpt
Well, said he, with a shake of the head,
human
A fine upstanding gentleman, sair, wi' ne'er a mean bone in his body.
gpt
And Miss Duggan?
human
A gentle, kind creature wi' a hearrt o' gold. She'd do nought to harrm anny one, sair, and I've proof o' that--bless her! Nor Miss McCall, either.
gpt
Miss McCall?
human
Lady Paula's companion and handy maid, sair. A leddy, if I knaws one. Engaged to Mistair Tavish, I unnerstand--though 'tis not yet given out to the gran' folk. But the' have th' saft look in their e'e for one anaither. And 'tis juist that it means. A puir freeted creatur' wi' an e'e fer the ghost o' the Castle. She'll have a fine mon in Mistair Tavish, I assure ye. And now 'tis time ye saw yer rume, sair, or I'm no a guid host ye'll ken.