diff options
Diffstat (limited to '40330-8.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | 40330-8.txt | 11920 |
1 files changed, 0 insertions, 11920 deletions
diff --git a/40330-8.txt b/40330-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 3b1fadd..0000000 --- a/40330-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,11920 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Inchbracken, by Robert Cleland - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: Inchbracken - The Story of a Fama Clamosa - -Author: Robert Cleland - -Release Date: July 25, 2012 [EBook #40330] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK INCHBRACKEN *** - - - - -Produced by Charles Bowen, from page scans provided by -Google Books (Oxford University) - - - - - - - - - - - -Transcriber's Notes: - - 1. Page scan source: - http://books.google.com/books?id=ATwVAAAAQAAJ - - 2. The diphthong oe is represented by [oe]. - - - - - - - INCHBRACKEN - - - - - -[Illustration] - - - - - - - INCHBRACKEN - - THE STORY OF A - - FAMA CLAMOSA - - - - - BY - - ROBERT CLELAND - - - * * * - _NEW EDITION--ILLUSTRATED_ - * * * - - - - - GLASGOW: - ROBERT FORRESTER, 1 ROYAL EXCHANGE SQUARE - * * * - 1887 - - - - - CONTENTS. - - - CHAP. - - I.--The Parish Of Kilrundle. - - II.--A Storm. - - III.--The Find. - - IV.--Down By the Burnside. - - V.--Julia. - - VI.--Sophia. - - VII.--Joseph. - - VIII.--A Field Preaching. - - IX.--The Baby. - - X.--Tibbie. - - XI.--An Excursion. - - XII.--Inchbracken. - - XIII.--A Harbour of Refuge. - - XIV.--Scandal. - - XV.--Mary. - - XVI.--Man and Wife. - - XVII.--Roderick. - - XVIII.--The Delivery of a Letter. - - XIX.--Subornation of Perjury. - - XX.--In a Sick Room. - - XXI.--Circe. - - XXII.--In Session. - - XXIII.--Mother and Daughter. - - XXIV.--Luckie Howden. - - XXV.--Sophia's Answer. - - XXVI.--Fama Clamosa. - - XXVII.--Dealings in Love and Faithfulness. - - XXVIII.--More Faithfulness but Less Love. - - XXIX.--Consultation. - - XXX.--Tibbie's Troubles. - - XXXI.--A Catechist. - - XXXII.--Changes. - - XXXIII.--Discomfited. - - XXXIV.--'Wooed an' Married an a'.' - - XXXV.--Found. - - XXXVI.--Augustus Wallowby. - - XXXVII.--The End. - - - - - - - INCHBRACKEN. - - - - - CHAPTER I. - - _THE PARISH OF KILRUNDLE_. - - -The night was stormy and black as pitch. Sheets of chilling rain sped -lashing across the glen, driven by the whirling tempest. The burns in -the hills, swollen into torrents, came tumbling down their rocky beds -all foam and uproar, diffusing through the air an undertone of -continuous thunder, that could be distinctly heard in each recurring -interval of the gale. Along the road which traversed the clachan of -Glen Effick and then wandered up the glen and across the hills, the -elements had free scope to work their evil will, and nothing with life -dared venture forth to oppose them. The air was full of hissings and -roarings and crackings and rumblings, as trees and roofs swayed and -shivered to the blast, and the loosened stones rumbled in the beds of -neighbouring torrents. The drowsy lights from the inn door and the -post-office disclosed nothing but a sheet of falling rain and an -overflowing gutter, and the gleams from the round boles in the cottage -shutters were but shining bars across the thick darkness of the night. -The two bright lamps of the stage coach from Inverlyon, descending the -hill road from the east, glowed like the fierce eyes of some monster -of the night, and disclosed something of the scene as they passed -along, trees tossing and writhing in the wind, wayside burns broke -loose from their bounds and foaming across the road, and for the -rest,--slop, slush, and blackness. Within, the tumult out of doors -gave edge to the glow and comfort of the snug peat fire on the hearth. -The wind, rumbling in the rocking chimney, and occasional raindrops -hissing on the embers, seemed but to call forth a ruddier light from -that goodly pile of burning peat and peeled coppice oak. True the -hearth was but clay, and of clay too was the floor of the apartment, -but the flicker and play of the flames hid the one as effectually as -the comfortable Brussels carpet concealed the other. The whitewashed -cottage walls, as well as some outlying yards of carpet, were covered -by bookcases whose tops touched the low ceiling, and big books piled -and heaped one on the other as they best might be to save space. - -This sombre background was somewhat relieved by the glints of the -firelight on a few gilt picture frames containing portraits, and by a -few steel engravings built curiously in among the books. Those dear -old engravings, which forty years ago embellished every middle class -home in Scotland,--John Knox preaching, Queen Mary at Leith after Sir -William Allan, and Duncan's stirring memorials of Prince Charlie--they -were good wholesome art for every day life, and likely to stir the -children's hearts, as did the ballads sung round the hearths of an -earlier generation, to an honest love of the brave and the beautiful, -and a sturdy pride in their Scottish birth. We have higher art -now-a-days, or we think so. We spend more money on it; and if not more -discriminative, are at least greatly more critical; but is the moral -influence of our walls on our households better now than it was then? -The boys and girls of to-day will grow up less narrow. Will they be as -loyal and true-hearted? - -But to return to the study of the Reverend Roderick Brown, licentiate -of the Free Church of Scotland. On the window-shelf were pots of hardy -roses in luxuriant bloom, and in the distant corner stood a tall -crimson cloth screen of many leaves, behind which were concealed the -bed and toilette appurtenances of his reverence the licentiate. Beyond -this a door communicated with an inner room; but here there are signs -unmistakable of a lady's chamber, so we may not intrude. - -Drawn up before the fire there stands a large writing-table, on which -are books and much manuscript, and at one end sits the occupant, deep -in the composition of one of the five or six discourses he will be -expected to deliver in the course of the following week. A tall young -man under thirty, well-proportioned and even athletic, but pale and -thin, and rather worn as regards the face. The straight black hair -which he has tossed back from his face in the throes of composition, -displays a forehead pale, blue-veined, and high, but rather narrow, -eyes dark and deep-set, beneath shaggy brows, in hollow and -blue-rimmed sockets, as of one who has gone through much excitement -and fatigue, but burning with a steady fire of enthusiasm, which seems -as if it would never go out, so long as a drop of the oil of life -remains in the lamp to supply it with fuel. The mouth is long and -flexible, not without signs of firmness and vigor, but gentle and -serene, a smile appearing to lurk in one of the corners, as awaiting -its opportunity to break forth. The whole expression is pure and -unworldly. An observer must have said, that, whether or not he might -be wise and prudent, he did not look like a fool, and he was most -assuredly good. - -His sister Mary sits opposite him plying her needle, and crooning to -herself some scraps of old world song, but softly, so as not to -disturb the flow of the minister's thoughts. She is younger by some -years than her brother, tall like him, and with all the grace in -repose that comes of well-exercised and symmetrical limbs. The head is -small, with a wealth of golden brown hair wound tightly round it, face -oval and fair, with the complexion of a shell The eyelids are very -full, drooping and long-lashed, and beneath them the eyes look forth -like violets from the shade. The hands are large and firm, but white, -supple, and perfectly shaped, and it is a treat and a joy to watch her -as she sits at work. She seems to exhale the breath of violets, -suggested perhaps by the colour of her eyes, as one follows her -tranquil movements, like Shelley's hyacinth bells-- - - - 'Which rang with a music so soft and intense - That it passed for an odor within the sense.' - - -The varying light of the fire, shining warmly upon her, touches even -the folds of her black gown into a subdued repetition of the quivering -glories that flicker among her hair. - -Those were the _disruption times_, which all have heard of, and the -middle-aged among us can recall more or less vividly. Times so -different from the present! When we look back on them, knowing how -much there was that was narrow, rugged, and unlovely, we must still -feel a regretful admiration for an atmosphere of earnestness and more -heroic warmth of feeling than is now attainable to the cold-blooded -clear-sightedness and electric dispassionateness of the critical -spirit now prevalent, which admits good and detects shortcoming in all -varieties of faith and opinion alike, and so, leaves the seeker after -the better to follow the worse in pure weariness, satisfied in the end -to pursue material advantage, seeing that Truth and Goodness have -become abstractions, too high to be attained, or else too widely -diffused to be missed, in whatever direction the wayfarer may stray. - -In those days the seeker after the goodly pearl of truth, felt -constrained to forsake all and followed it; and doubtless the -forsaking and the quest brought a moral benefit, though it by no means -follows that the form in which they sought it, the Ultramontane fetish -of ecclesiastical supremacy--exemption from State interference, -combined with an unlimited right to meddle in the State--was in any -sense a truth at all. An earnest following out of the supposed truth -cannot but be wholesome to the seeker, and to fight for an idea of any -kind, must be good in materialistic times. - -One is led to use the word 'Ultramontane' in connection with the Free -Church 'movement,' by the curious resemblance between the claims of -these ardent Presbyterians, and those of the Ultramontane section of -the Catholic Church, as well as by the very similar language in which -both expressed and supported them. It would seem indeed as if since -1840 a wave of turbulence had passed over the minds of all Churchmen, -beginning in this Northern Kingdom and rolling Southwards. England and -Ireland have since then been disturbed by unruly priests, and the long -pontificate of Pius IX. has witnessed in every country a continued -effort of the Spiritual Estate to assert itself against secular -authority. - -That the struggle in Scotland was for no absolute truth, would appear -from the change of front which the body that then arose now presents. -It commenced by claiming to have inherited the rights of the -historical church, confirmed by act of parliament, to guide the nation -and the state in questions of faith and morals. Now it places itself -with the voluntary religious associations, and clamours for depriving -its own successors of the endowments which its members themselves -resigned because of conditions which now do not exist. When Chalmers, -ten years before the Disruption, fought the battle of Establishments -against Voluntaryism, not only in Scotland, but in England also, he -little thought that the Church he was to found, would, in a quarter of -a century, become the hottest association of voluntaries in the -country! New circumstances have begotten new 'principles,' let us say, -for it would not be well to impute anything like trade jealousy to -holy men. - -Roderick Brown was pursuing his theological studies in Edinburgh, -during the years of theological excitement which preceded the -catastrophe. Youth is sympathetic, and the leaders of the movement had -holy names and historic memories to conjure with. It is not wonderful, -therefore, that he caught the enthusiasm of the men about him, and -thirsted to bear his part in contending for the truth. At each -succeeding vacation he returned to his father's manse with a -heightened ardour for ecclesiastical combat; and many and long were -their discussions on the Church question and its new lights. To the -young man's surprise, he found his arguments fall rather flat and -pointless in presence of his father's calm and dispassionate -statements of the case; but the elder found the wisdom and -understanding gathered in sixty years' intercourse with the Church and -the world equally powerless to cool down the heat and ardour of the -enthusiastic youth. Therefore, as must ever be the case where -affection and respect are combined with common sense, they finally -agreed to differ, each forbearing to insist on his own preferences, -and confident that the other sought only the right according to his -lights. - -The disappointment to Doctor Brown was not slight. He felt himself -rapidly failing, and he had hoped to find in his son an assistant and -successor in whose hands he might contentedly leave the care of his -beloved flock, and pass on to an uninterrupted fulfilment the many -good works he had commenced in his parish. Besides his parish, the -future of his daughter may also have weighed much on the old man's -mind. She had been born and bred in the manse, and was as well known -to every one of the parishioners, as the minister himself. To the poor -she had been the recognised messenger of mercy. Ever since her -mother's death (when she was thirteen), had devolved on her with the -assistance of the old housekeeper, the many and onerous duties that -fall to the country minister's wife; and in fulfilling these she had -won the love of rich and poor alike. - -Roderick too had been bred in the manse, and was known to every living -soul in the parish. He had fished the burns with the sons of the -farmers and crofters, when a lad, and as he grew older shot on the -moors with the lairds. Gentle and simple alike had only kind words to -say of the minister's son, and to these was added sincere respect when -he entered on his theological studies, and afforded such assistance to -his father in his sacred duties as the laws of the Church permit to -the unordained. There would have been but one voice in the parish from -Patron, Heritors, and People, as to who should succeed Doctor Brown in -his charge, and it was very bitter to the old man to find that for an -enthusiastic scruple all his hopes were to be laid low. - -In the year of the Disruption, Dr. Brown died, and in the same year -his son Roderick was licensed to preach by the Free Church. On many -therefore fell a double bereavement; his father was taken away, and -forthwith it became necessary to gather up his household gods, the -relics of his past, steeped in all the memories of childhood and of -those who had made it glad, and to move forth into a new and an -untried life. - -General Drysdale, the patron and chief heritor of the parish, a -staunch Conservative in Church and State, was greatly disappointed at -the step taken by the son of his old friend, in quitting the church of -his father. He would gladly have presented him to the living, and felt -personally aggrieved that he had deliberately incapacitated himself -from accepting it. The late minister had been his frequent guest at -Inchbracken, and the intercourse between the families of the great -house and the manse had been constant and cordial, and had formed a -most useful bond of connection between the laird and his poorer -tenants; but now, owing to the wrongheadedness of an inexperienced -youth, all this must cease, and who could tell how the new incumbent -would answer? The breeding of himself and his family might make their -presence unacceptable at the castle, and in that case intercourse -would necessarily cease, and the laird and his people, in consequence, -would drift apart from want of the old link; or even should the new -comer answer, it would be long before a stranger could establish ties -between himself and the different orders of his flock, and longer -still before he could become a bond between one order and another. - -But even this did not make up the whole sum of Roderick's offences. -His personal merits themselves added another count to the General's -indictment against him. Beloved by rich and poor, his religious -ministrations were greatly valued in his native parish, and many who -might in other circumstances have stood staunch by the Kirk and the -laird, were seduced into dissent by his insidious exhortations. Not -only had he refused to accept the legitimate cure of souls, but he had -raised the standard of rebellion within the bounds, thereby tending to -subvert the wisely-appointed order of things, and contributing to the -inletting of that free tide of revolutionary democracy which the -General espied afar as doomed eventually to sweep away lairds and all -other salutary potentates, and lead on to levelling ideas, the -abomination of desolation, and the end of the world. Clearly, then, it -was the duty of every well-regulated mind to discountenance such -doings; and in the interest of public order, and for the sake of his -misguided tenantry, General Drysdale's duty to refuse ground for the -erection of a schismatic meetinghouse--a temple of discord, upon any -portion of his and; or to rent a dwelling to the missionary of -rebellion and error. - -Roderick therefore being unable to find shelter for himself and his -sister within five miles of the church and manse of Kilrundle, betook -himself to the neighbouring hamlet of Glen Effick, which was beyond -the territory of this well-meaning persecutor, but still hovered on -the edge of Kilrundle Parish, over which he could raid at will, and -hold meetings on the hillside for the faithful of the flock, who -gathered in ever increasing crowds to hear him, emulous of the 'Hill -Folk' of old, who, as they were often reminded, 'held not their lives -dear, but went forth to serve the Lord in the wilderness.' - -Almost all the cottars in Glen Effick would have been proud to receive -the minister and his sister, but their means were less than their -desires. The cottages were but small, and a few vacant rooms, -scattered here and there throughout the village, were all that could -be offered to shelter them and their effects. Hence in one cottage he -had his books and made his study, and in this also they both slept. In -another, across the road, they took their meals, and had bestowed such -of their goods as were in use for that purpose. In a third was Mary's -piano and many of her belongings, and there they would probably have -spent their evenings, but that an old body, with more zeal than space -at her disposal, had insisted on bestowing their tea equipage in her -corner cupboard, where it was visible through the glass door, and -proved her a mother in Israel. Thither they felt bound to follow it -occasionally, that so Luckie Howden might have the glory of making tea -for the minister. - -All this was very tiresome to Mary, and sometimes she thought her -patience would break down entirely. During her peaceful and happy life -with her father she had imbibed all his ideas. She still clung to the -Established Church as her head, and disapproving of the Disruption, -she had neither zeal for the cause, nor a pleasing sense of martyrdom -to mitigate the worries, discomforts, and privations of her daily -life. The one only solace of her lot was her great love for her -brother, from whom she had resolved never to part, and with whom she -was prepared to endure even greater hardships. An uncle had pressed -her strongly to make her home with him, but she could not tear herself -from Roderick, and so stayed on. - - - - - CHAPTER II. - - A STORM. - - -The rumble of the stage coach past the window died away down the -street, and silence fell on the room we have been considering. The -scratching of Roderick's pen could be heard in the stillness, save -when lost in the momentary roar of a gust descending the chimney, -followed by the hiss of its watery burden on the coals, or when a bar -of 'The Lass o' Gowrie' escaped for an instant from the suppression in -which it was held that the sermon might not be disturbed. - -At length there sounded the shuffling of feet and the opening and -closing of a door. A tap, and the door of their own room opened; and -entered the beadle, Joseph Smiley, a little ferrety-looking man with -sharp restless eyes, that seemed as though they would squint in their -alert impatience to look at everything at once. His dress was a rusty -black coat, like the old one of an undertaker's man, and a soiled -white wisp of neckcloth. He took off with both hands a limp and sodden -hat, streaming with moisture, and deposited it under the table, with a -sort of deprecatory bow to Mary, as who should say, 'It is not strong -enough to be treated in the usual way, let us lay it down tenderly.' -Recovering, he turned to the door, and with an encouraging 'Come in, -boy,' introduced a tall over-grown lad of seventeen, dressed in a -fisherman's oilskin suit, from which the rain trickled in copious -streams. - -'I wuss ye gude e'en, mem an' sir,' said Joseph 'Though it's faar frae -what I wad ca' a gude e'en mysel', an' deed an' it's juist a most -terrible nicht, though nae doubt them 'at sent it kens best.--Ay, Sir! -It was juist the powerfu' ca' o' duty 'at garred me lay by the drap -parrich an' steer frae the ingle neuk this nicht. Here's a laddie come -a' the gate frae Inverlyon, e'y tap o' the coach to fesh ye back wi' -him to see his granny 'ats lyin' near hand her end.' - -'But Inverlyon is fen miles off, and in another parish,' the minister -was here able to interrupt, a matter not always to be obtained when -Joseph held forth, for he loved the continuous sound of his own voice -above every other noise. - -'And why did they not get Mr. Watson, the minister of Inverlyon?' put -in Mary; 'I am sure Mr. Watson would have gone at once, and he is so -good and so kind a man.' - -'Na, na, mem! Naebody 'at kens my granny wad ventur to bring Mester -Watson in ower by her!' cried the fisher lad, casting aside his -bashfulness, and steadying himself on the tall limbs on which he had -been swaying to and fro. 'He bed in, whan a' the gude folk cam out, -an' sae she'll hae nane o' him!' - -'But why should you want to take Mr. Brown all that distance to-night? -and a night like this? Has your grandmother some dreadful secret on -her mind? And would not a writer be the best person to get?' - -'Na, mem! na! There's nothing like that! My Granny's a godly auld -wife, tho' maybe she's gye fraxious whiles, an' mony's the sair -paipin' she's gi'en me; gin there was ocht to confess she kens the -road to the Throne better nor maist. But ye see there's a maggit -gotten intil her heid, an' she says she beut to testifee afore she -gangs hence.' - -'Ay! weel I wat,' said Joseph, swaying his head solemnly to and fro, -'she's a holy auld wife that same Luckie Corbet! an' I'm sure, -minister, it'll be a preev'ledge to ye to resaive her testimony! She's -rael zealous against Erastianism an' a' the sins in high places. I'm -thinkin', sir, she's gye an' like thae covenanters lang syne, 'at -Mester Dowlas was tellin' 's about whan he lectur'd up by on the -Hurlstane Muir, about Jenny Geddes down Edinbro' way, an' mair sic -like.' - -'Ay! an' I'm thinkin' it's that auld carline, Jenny Geddes, 'at's -raised a' the fash! My granny gaed to hear Mester Dowlas whan he -preached among the whins down by the shore, an' oh, but he was bonny! -An' a graand screed o' doctrine he gae us. For twa hale hours he -preached an' expundet an' never drew breath, for a the wind was -skirlin', an' the renn whiles skelpin' like wild. An' I'm thinkin' my -granny's gotten her death o't a'. But oh! an' he was graand on Jenny -Geddes! an' hoo she was a mither in Israel, an' hoo she up wi' the -creepie an' heaved it at the Erastian's heid. An' my granny was juist -fairly ta'en wi't a', an' she vooed she beut to be a mither in Israel -tae, an' whan she gaed hame she out wi' the auld hugger 'at she keeps -the bawbees in, aneath the hearth-stane, for to buy a creepie o' her -ain,--she thocht a new ane wad be best for the Lord's wark,--an' she -coupet the chair whaur hung her grave claes, 'at she airs fornent the -fire ilka Saturday at e'en, an' out there cam a lowe, an' scorched a -hole i' the windin' sheet, an' noo puir body we'll hae to hap her in -her muckle tartan plaid. An' aiblins she'll be a' the warmer'e'y -moulds for that. But, however, she says the sheet was weel waur'd, for -the guid cause. An' syne she took til her bed, wi' a sair host, an' -sma' winder, for there was a weet dub whaur she had been sittin' amang -the whins. An' noo the host's settled on her that sair, she whiles -canna draw her breath. Sae she says she maun let the creepie birlin' -slide, but she beut to testifee afore some godly minister or she gangs -hence. An' I'm fear'd, sir, ye maun hurry, for she's rael far -through.' - -Joseph listened with a groan of solemn approval. 'Oh, minister, but -it's a high preev'lidge! an' I'm no grudgin' the weet an' the gutters -comin' ower to fesh ye, forby the drap parrich growin' cauld at hame!' -'Roderick! It is impossible for you to go. Ten miles! and such a -night! And then, think of kind Mr. Watson; how hurt he will be!' - -Joseph sighed, and muttered under his breath about sojourners in -Meshech, but Mr. Brown took no notice, and replied to his sister,-- - -'The coach will pass going down at seven to-morrow morning.' - -'I'm fear'd, sir, ye'll be ower late by than. She'll maybe no live or -mornin.' An' she canna thole waitin', my granny.' - -'But we have no gig, you must remember, and I know the inn gig is -away, so it cannot be helped,' replied Mary. - -'I'm thinkin' sir,' suggested Joseph, 'Patey Soutar wad be wullen' to -gie us his pownie, seein' its you. It's a sore nicht for the puir -beast, but than there's the gude cause, an' ye'll no be forgettin' the -ruch wather e'y pay, sir. Patey's pownie's a canny baste, an' -sure-fittet e'y dark. Mony's the time he's brocht Patey safe hame, an' -him wi' a drappie in's heid 'at garred him see no' that strecht afore -him.' - -'Yes,' returned the minister, with a patient shrug; 'and he won't run -away with me, that's certain.' It was manifest he would have to go, -reason or no reason. To reduce the question to one of common sense -would have raised too many questions hard or inconvenient to answer; -and as to his own comfort, he had long learned to yield that. In a -popular movement the people who are wont to be led will sometimes -drive by the mere force already communicated to their inertia, and the -minister, accustomed to lead, will sometimes find himself pushed or -driven by the very impulse he has himself originated. - -Mary's remonstrances were in vain. She could only do her best towards -arming her brother against the storm, and seeing that his mackintosh -and plaid were securely wrapped around him. Considerate, as usual, for -every one but himself, the minister offered the young fisherman -shelter for the night, to await the morning coach, but that was -declined with a 'Na na, sir! Shanks' naig diz fine for the like o' me. -An' surely gin _ye_ can thole the rough nicht, I'se do weel enough.' - -Up the steep hill road that runs eastward from Glen Effick and -gradually gains the upland moor dividing it from the sea, the two -wayfarers floundered in the darkness. The water-courses being already -choked with their hurrying floods, the road became the natural vent -for the superfluous deluge, and had changed into a roaring torrent, -carrying down stones and gravel in its course, and rendering travel -against the stream both difficult and dangerous. The pony had full -opportunity to prove his character for sagacity and sure-footedness, -and he vindicated it triumphantly, for he kept on his way despite of -all impediments, while poor Sandie, the fisher lad, found his footing -give way and himself rolled over among the rattling stones more than -once, when he would pick himself up again with a 'Hech sirse! but my -hirdies are sair forfuchan.' - -As they won their way upwards, the darkness grew less intense, and the -flooding of the road less serious; but it was not till they had -reached the level of the moorland looking straight out to sea, that -they were able to realize the full fury of the tempest, which -threatened each moment to catch them up in its arms and dash them to -the ground. The rain, however, had abated, and there was refreshment -in the salt keen breath of the distant sea. An occasional rift in the -clouds let through a feeble glimmer, and as they staggered along they -could make out the broken horizon line of the black tumbling waters. - -A flash--and the distant boom of a gun. 'I'm thinkin', sir, there's a -ship out yon'er. It's a sair nicht to be on the water.' - -Presently another flash--and a rocket cleft its way aloft through the -darkness, while the roar of the angry ocean, as they drew near, grew -louder and louder. - -They now began to descend from the higher level, encountering on the -downward course a repetition of the perils and difficulty which had -hindered their ascent. Their attention was fully engrossed in picking -their steps and left them no leisure to observe other things. At the -bottom of the hill there was a considerable breadth of flooded meadow, -and there a wooden bridge half submerged spanned the flooded waters of -the Effick, shivering in the boiling flood, and threatening to give -way beneath them as they hurried across. They now found themselves on -the sea road, level and well made, and their troubles or at least the -dangers of the way were at an end. - -And now for the first time they could realize the horror of the raging -sea, with the great billows hurling themselves against the shore, and -casting their sheets of foam high in the air, and drenching the road -in showers of spray. Again they see the flash of a minute gun, but its -voice is drowned in the tumult of the elements. The flash now, not as -before, far out at sea--the ship was coming perilously near the shore. - -'I'm fear'd they'll hae sair wark to win round Inverlyon pint, noo,' -said Sandie; 'they're ower far in shore!'--'The Lord pity them!' he -went on, as another flash showed the vessel to be still nearing the -land. 'They're driftin' fair in for the Effick Mouth! The Lord hae -mercy on their souls!' - -'How is the tide to-night, Sandie?' the minister enquired. 'Do you -think we can cross the mouth of the bay by the sands under the rocks? -It will be wet, of course, with the spray from the waves, but we are -too wet ourselves to mind that, and it saves full four miles of the -way.' - -'Na, sir! The sea's in the nicht, an' there's five feet o' water on -the sands. We maun gang round.' - -As they journeyed along, they twice again saw the flash of the signal -guns; the second time the ship herself became visible, very near the -shore, a helpless waif apparently, tossed on the summit of a mountain -surge. The bulwarks, which showed as those of a large vessel, stood -out black against the murky horizon for an instant, and then sank -again among the tumbling waves. Two of her masts were gone, but the -third entangled in the wreck of rigging, still held out. Presently -there was a crash audible above the storm. Another, and they saw the -ship impaled on the jagged rocks at the mouth of the bay. The furious -billows rushed up after her, wave on wave, as if refusing to be -baulked of their prey, washed over her from end to end, broke down the -remaining mast, and shook and ground her among the rocks. A few cries -were carried shoreward, shrill above the tempest, and then went out in -the night. Another crash--and the wreck parted asunder and fell back -into the sea, and was whirled away among the furious breakers, which -tore it plank from plank, and strewed the relics of that goodly ship -for miles along the shore. - -It was wearing towards morning, and the wind was perceptibly falling -when these wayfarers reached their destination. A candle burning in -the window seemed the only sign of life in the whole slumbering town; -and even that guttered and flickered low in its socket, an emblem of -the life slowly burning itself out on the adjoining bed. A stentorious -breathing, coming at irregular and ever-lengthening intervals, told -that Sandie's granny was already setting out on her long journey--that -she had closed her eyes for ever on all the things of time, even the -ministrations of religion; and that the mysteries to which those -ministrations can, at the best, but darkly point, would shortly be -uncovered to her immortal view. - -The minister was dried and warmed and refreshed, but there was little -call for his services. The watchers were too weary with their watching -to give much heed to consolation; he did, however, what was possible -and retired to rest. - - - - - CHAPTER III - - THE FIND. - - -Long ere daylight the storm had died away. The new-risen sun shone in -a sky of transparent blue, with not a cirrhus rag to shew of the -enswathing vapours of the night before. - -The air, bracingly fresh but calm, stirred faintly among the sandhills -by the shore, shaking out the bent and grasses laid limp and tangled -by their drenching overnight. - -When the minister set forth on his return, the sun still hung low over -the eastern sea, and reddened the waves, foam-flecked and tossing in -angry recollection of the lash of last night's gale. In the ebb they -had shrunk far back across the sands, but again the tide had turned -and was advancing. The fisher folk were not astir. No boats could be -expected home that morning. Such as were away during the gale must -have put in for refuge somewhere, or been swallowed by the sea; nor -would any stir outside the harbour till the sea went down. Perforce -they must rest; and they rested. The cottages were still shut up, and -no smoke curled from the chimneys as Roderick rode over the roughly -causewayed street, past the harbour, where a lugger or two swayed up -and down upon the heaving tide, and down upon the sands beyond, that -he might avoid the long detour of the night before. - -The Effick Water spreads itself out into a small firth or bay some -three or four miles round, but the mouth of this bay is encumbered by -upstanding rocks and boulders, and about these a bar or beach has -gathered, standing up out of the water at all times, save the highest -tides, or when the sea is driven up by an easterly gale. Through this -beach the Effick cuts a channel for its own escape, and that of the -water in the bay at the tide's turn, but it is fordable at any time, -and at low water is but an insignificant trickling over the shingly -beach. The Point of Inverlyon divides Inverlyon bay and harbour from -the Bay of Effick, it runs sharply out into the sea and completely -conceals the one from the other; and, in those days of scanty -provision for the ship-wrecked, a vessel might be driven ashore in the -latter desolate bay without the people of the village being aware, -especially if the catastrophe took place after dark; and their first -intimation would be when in scanning the shore after a gale they came -on the wreckage. - -It was an hour or two after Roderick had started before the first band -of prowlers set forth to search for the rejected spoils of victorious -Ocean. The shore was solitary, and he was the first to come upon the -tokens of the night's disaster. On passing the point, he found the -shattered relics scattered on every side--boxes, barrels, planks, -wreckage of every kind. By and by he came upon a stove-in boat, and a -little further along the body of a drowned sailor lay upon the sand. -He was but partly dressed, and the dark yellow tinge of his skin, the -straight black hair, prominent features, and set of the eyes, as well -as the long, strange-looking knife, tied securely to his waist, showed -him to be a Lascar. So the ship probably had been an East Indiaman, -had sailed in safety round the Cape, crossed the Bay of Biscay, and -escaped who can tell how many perils, and all to be cast away in the -end on this solitary shore, within a few leagues or hours of her -destined haven. - -Roderick dismounted and examined the poor fellow, but he was -manifestly dead, and there was no dwelling near to which he might -carry him; so he drew the body up above high-water mark, to await the -searchers who were sure to arrive shortly in search of plunder. He had -visitations and a meeting to fill up his day on getting home--service -due, as he told himself, to the living, and therefore more important -than ceremonial cares for the dead. - -Hastening forward, he crossed the shingly beach at the mouth of the -Effick, and reached the sands gathered about the base of the rocks, -and sloping on the one side to the sea, on the other to the inner -basin or firth of the little stream,--at high water a brimming lake, -but now at the ebb a slimy hollow full of pools, boulders, seaweed, -and mussel beds, where gulls and crows met to quarrel over the spoils -of sea and land. There he came upon a sight sadder than the last, two -women thrown together upon the sand, surrounded and partly covered -with wreckage, as though a specially strong eddy had set in this -direction, and there unburdened itself of its prey. The first he -examined was clad in thin and peculiar garments of white cotton, a -life-preserver was made fast about her body, and her hands clung with -the inextricable grasp of death to the clothes of her companion. Her -feet were bare, so was her head, her skin was a dark olive, and her -dress and appearance showed her to be an Ayah or Indian maid, in -attendance doubtless on some lady returning to Europe. Her long black -hair was clotted and stained with blood, and closer inspection showed -terrible wounds and bruises on the head, as though the waves had -dashed and pounded her against the rocks before at length -relinquishing their hold. Clearly there could be no hope of -resuscitation there, and Roderick passed to the other. - -From under pieces of plank and broken cabin furniture he was able at -last to disentangle the form of a lady. She too was encased in a -life-preserver, which in her case too had failed to save her life. The -cruel rocks and breakers had made sure of that. Her head and face -especially showed contusions and bruises of the most dreadful -description, and there was a distortion of the features, as though her -last thought had been one of agony, in striking contrast to the calm -which had settled on the face of her companion. The arms too were -stretched out in an intensity of purpose that death had been unable to -paralyze, and the fingers were clenched on a bit of a chain composed -of coins connected by knotted links of gold. Could it be that the -parting of this chain, and the severance from what it held, was the -last agonizing idea which had passed through the poor creature's mind? - -As Roderick gazed, a feeble wail hard by gave a new turn to his -musings. Not many steps away, but where the sand sloped inwards to the -protected waters of the bay, he descried a bundle of clothing, and -while he looked it seemed to move, and again the wail was heard. -Taking it up he found the bundle to be a tiny infant, warmly wrapped -up in many shawls and wound in a life-preserver. The poor drowned -mother had probably given her last care to make the little one as safe -as she could, and by a miracle she had succeeded. The lightness and -smallness of the tiny bundle had secured its safety. While heavier -bodies were being hurled and rolled among rocks and stones on the -beach, this slight thing had been caught up on the crest of a surge -and flung beyond the rocks and boulders margining the sea, into the -protected waters of the inner bay, where it would float in comparative -safety till, on the subsidence of the tide, it stranded on the shore. - -Roderick took it up and undid the swathings, that it might freely use -its limbs. At once the infant ceased its wailing; it stretched its -little arms, and, looking into his face, it smiled. Who that is human, -not to say humane, could resist the appeal?--the flattery of being -approved by a pure fresh soul, all untarnished by the world's guile, -and so lately come from heaven! - - -[Illustration: "The baby smiled, and twined its fingers in his -whisker-ends." Page 19.] - - -Roderick was enthralled at once. 'You poor wee darling,' he said, 'we -cannot leave you here alone, waiting till other help finds you; you -must come with me!' - -The baby smiled again, and twined its fingers in his whisker ends. -Roderick wrapped it again in its shawls, remounted the pony, and -proceeded on his way. - -He could not but look back regretfully at the poor dead mother, whom -he seemed to be separating from her child; but there was nothing he -could do for her without assistance, and that he must go miles to -seek, and he knew it would arrive equally soon without his -intervention. - -He passed a good deal more wreckage as he went, but nothing that had -life, nor any more bodies of the drowned. Leaving the shore, he came -in time to Effick Bridge. It had withstood the spate, and though badly -shaken, was still available for crossing the stream. The waters had -subsided over the flooded meadows, and after crossing these he began -to ascend the hill. It was a tedious task; the soil was washed away in -places, and in others stones had rolled from above, among which he had -to pick his way carefully, lest a jolt should disturb his fragile -burden. - -The morning coach for Inverlyon reached the brow of the hill, coming -down, while he was still wending upwards. It stopped there, and its -passengers were required to alight, and make their way downward on -foot, while the driver, with all precaution, guided his team and the -empty vehicle over the encumbered track. The passengers included a -parishioner or two of the minister's, who by and by encountered him on -their descent, and greeted him effusively. His response, however, was -absent and constrained, he was wholly disinclined to stand still in -the middle of the tedious ascent, or engage in the desultory gossip so -dear to his rustic friends. In truth, he was worn out. His tempestuous -journey over-night, the early start without breakfast, the sad -spectacle of death which he had beheld, and doubts how best to do his -duty to his helpless charge, had thrown him into a melancholy and -preoccupied mood, and deprived him of all power to enter into -indifferent chat. He made no attempt, therefore, to rein up the -'pownie,' and that canny beast went tranquilly forward, picking his -steps as seemed best among the sods and heather tufts by the side of -the road. - -'What's come ower the minister? He wad scarce gie us the time o' day -as he gaed by, an' he glowered at a body like the far awa end o' -Willie Cant's fiddle. An' what brings him awa down here at this time -o' day? An' ridin' on that godless chield, Patey Soutar's pownie! I'm -sair misdoubtin' but he's been after nae gude!' - -'Hoot, awa! Peter Malloch, ye maunna judge sae hard. I'm jalousin' -he's been awa a' nicht, an' aiblins he's meditatin' on his next -discoorse. Gin he'd gotten as far as the twalthly, or even the -seventhly, ye see, he wadna be for brecken aff, to haver wi' a curran -fules, ower a' the clashes o' the country side.' - -'Speak for yersel, Tammas! An' dinna ye be for judgin' the -office-bearers o' the Lord's Kirk by yer ain silly sel'. I'm thinkin -gin he'd kenned a' 'at I cud hae telt him, he'd hae frisket up his -legs, an' drawn bridle fast enough. The Sustentation Fund's prosperin' -bye a' expectation, an' I wad hae telled him a' about it. But noo he -can juist bide till the next Deacons' Coort, whan I'll read my report. -Set him up wi' his high looks! Is't no me 'ats gatherin' the siller -that's to pay him wi?' - -'Hoot! Peter, man, I'm thinkin' he was that carried like in's mind, he -didna ken even wha it was gaed by! But I'm sayin', Peter, what was yon -the minister was carryin' afore him on the saidle, 'at he took sae -muckle tent on? It was sma' an' muckle happit up, an' he ne'er took -his e'en aff it. Gin it hadna been him I'd hae said it was a bairn, -an' he was blate ower 't.' - -The subject of the discussion went on his way, unwitting of the -offence he had given. 'Tammas' was scarcely wrong in surmising that he -did not know who passed. Had he been questioned at the moment he would -no doubt have answered correctly, but as there was no one to do so, -the impression on his consciousness glanced off, causing, indeed, the -mechanical salutation at the moment, but powerless to influence his -thought. - -Upward toils the pony, picking his steps from one soft sod to the -next; the rider sunk in a brown study lets the bridle hang loosely on -his neck, and the baby, rocked by the springy undulations of his gait, -sleeps again, unconscious and content. The summit is gained in time, -the road grows easier, and the pace mends, till a shout in front -startles their drowsy senses. - -'Hallo! Roddie!--halt! You're not going to pass an old friend like -that!' - -Roderick, wakening with a start, catches the bridle of the -good-natured beast, which has already come to a stand. A middle-aged -gentleman is descending a heathery knoll overhanging the road, and -carries a salmon rod on his shoulder, and a boy follows with his -basket, apparently well filled, and from which there peers a -companionable-looking bottle neck. - -'Good morning! Captain Drysdale.' - -'Good morning, Roddie! Glad to see you after so long.' - -'Going to try a last cast at the salmon before the fishing closes? You -have every prospect of good sport. The water looked splendid at the -bridge as I came over. The spate has fallen, but the water is still -brown, and dotted with foam-spots. You will have a fine day's sport.' - -'I hope so, lad! And I only wish you were coming with me! Od! Roddie, -do you ever think of the jolly days we used to have, when young -Kenneth was at home, lad! The fishing! and the days after the grouse! -we expect Kenneth home to-day for three months' leave,--in fact he -should have come last night. I wish you were to be with us too, old -man!' - -'Thanks, Captain John; but that can scarcely be. A minister should -have other things to think about,--at least the Presbytery would say -so, and I do not think the General would relish the crack of a -dissenter's gun on any moor of his.' - -'Hang the dissenters! and that weary Free Kirk that has set the people -by the ears. I never could understand how they contrived to inveigle a -sensible fellow like you--gentle born and bred, and your father's son, -in among a crew of canting demagogues.' - -'Please don't! Captain Drysdale. Nothing but a conviction that it was -right could have led me to take the step, and give up so much of what -I valued most. Having that conviction, I am sure even you must approve -my acting up to it. My choice has cost me much, but I counted, the -cost before I made it. So, as regards the church, we had better "let -that flea stick to the wa'" as my beadle says. We might argue till we -vexed each other, but neither would be converted to the other's -views.' - -'Well, Roddie! And probably your beadle says again--"They that will to -Cupar, maun to Cupar;"--there's no use speaking, but it's a great -pity!--And where, in the name of all that's wonderful, are you -trapezing to, at this hour of the morning? And of all the steeds in -the country side to carry a douse Free Kirk presbyter, if that is not -Patey Soutar the drunken cadger's pony! Bonny on-goings! my lad. What -would the 'Residuary' Presbytery, as you are pleased to denominate the -church of your fathers say to that? Ha, ha! I doubt not the Free is -both free and easy--ha! ha! And what may that be your reverence is -carrying home so gingerly? My stars! I believe it is a child!' - -At this point the baby disturbed first by the cessation of the pony's -rocking gait, and then fairly awakened by the Captain's loud guffaw, -lifted up its small voice and wept. - -'Indeed, Master Roddie, yours seems to be a very free church indeed!' - -'Captain Drysdale, I do think some things should not be said even in -jest, which is all you mean, I know. But I do not think I have -hitherto so desecrated my sacred calling as to have laid myself open -to such insinuations even in jest.' - -'Tush, man! Don't be so thin-skinned. One must have his joke. Besides, -after all, you have no need to be much vexed, "it is such a little -one," as the French girl said to her confessor.' And with a volley of -'ha, ha, ha!' Captain John bounded down the hill. - - - - - CHAPTER IV. - - _DOWN BY THE BURNSIDE_. - - -Mary Brown arose even earlier than her wont on the morning that -succeeded the gale. The air was fresh and sweet with the scent of bog -myrtle, fir, and early heather. The hillsides, new washed, were -vividly green in their clothing of pasture coppice and feathery birch. -The sombre moors were warming into crimson when they met the morning -sun, and the shadows among the rocks and distant hilltops showed the -whole gamut of blues and purple greys. - -Mary perforce had to take a morning walk. Their breakfast-room was at -some distance from the cottage in which she spent the night, and the -sweet air tempted her to extend the stroll through the village to an -old bridge that crossed the stream at its western extremity. There she -sat down on the stone parapet to sun herself, and thaw out the -chilliness which she had absorbed from the walls of her damp little -cottage chamber. - -How the poor seem to thrive and bloom and flourish into ripe and -hearty old age in those houses with their turf and stone walls! vying -in health and gaiety with the lusty house leek that ridges the roof -thatch! Can it be that they are made of another clay from those who -walk on planked floors, and shiver at every draught that sifts through -an ill-adjusted casement? Mary was no hothouse plant: her health was -good, and she had always spent much of her time out of doors, careless -of weather; but the clammy dampness and closeness of the little -cottage rooms oppressed her, and she now drank in the pure clear air -of the hills with thirsty content. - -The swiftly passing waters beneath the bridge, were a darker brown -after the rain, and spotted with patches of white foam, and they sung -with a low continuous movement as they slid over the rocks and broke -on the piers of the arch. Down the stream on a grassy flat the village -women were spreading out their little heaps of wet linen fresh wrung -from the stream, to bleach in the sun. Farther on a few cattle had -come down to drink; and beyond that, cottage roofs and palings closed -in the view. - -In the village street the grey shadows of the cottages alone broke the -monotony of the deserted road, till as she looked a figure issued from -the door of the inn, and slowly came towards her. The distance was too -great to enable her to identify the person; yet some vague -association, indefinite but altogether pleasant, was called up by the -gait and set of the shoulders as he approached, and added a new chord -of feeling which filled up the harmony of the peaceful scene. The -breeze flitting through a neighbouring wood came laden with a spicier -fragrance of resinous pine, and the hum of vagrant bees mixed with the -melody of babbling waters, and all the music of all the sunny mornings -she had ever known came back on her with a mysterious gladness as she -watched the approaching stranger. He was coming nearer, however, and -she turned her head till he would pass. - -The gentleman came forward smoking an early cigar, and likewise -enjoying the quiet beauty of the morning. The view looking up the glen -was wilder than in other directions. About a mile above the village -the woods ended, and the shoulders of the hills swept down into the -ascending valley in breadths of green pasture and brown and purple -moor, while the jagged outline of the more distant hills, bounded in -the background a broad bank of grey which stood sharply out against -the transparent horizon. - -The steep ascent of the old-fashioned bridge, and its brown stone -parapet, picked out in all the sunlit greens and yellows of moss and -wall rue, made a bold foreground to the picture, and the sable-clad -figure of Mary Brown on the summit, gave life and purpose to the -whole. - -The gentleman ascended the bridge. Mary's back seemed not unfamiliar -to him, but it was only on casting a side-long glance in passing that -a recognition became possible. - -'Mary Brown!' - -Mary started. Her thoughts had wandered away in a day-dream; she -looked round, and there stood the stranger at her elbow, with both -hands held out. - - -[Illustration: "He was coming nearer, ... she turned her head till he -would pass." Page 24.] - - -'Ken--Mister--Captain Drysdale!' The light came suddenly into her -eyes, and perhaps a shade of warmer color into her cheeks as she gave -her hand. - -'Why not Kenneth, as of old? Am I to say "Miss Brown?" I fear you have -a bad memory for old friends!' - -'Not that--but who would have expected to see you here?' - -'And who could have thought to see you here,---sitting upon a bridge, -in Glen Effick, at seven o'clock in the morning?' - -'We live in this village now. But where have you fallen from? When we -heard of you last you were at Gibraltar.' - -'And so I was till the other day, when the doctors ordered me home on -sick leave. But tell me. How come you to be staying in this poor -little place? Some of your old charity doings I suppose. Will you not -let me drive you over to the manse, my gig is getting ready now. As -you may suppose, I was storm-staid here last night, and I am just -setting out for home. Though, of course, I shall be only too glad to -wait till you are ready to start.' - -'Then you have not heard of my dear father's death, and that Roderick -has been appointed to the Free Church congregation in the parish.' - -'I knew about Doctor Brown, and felt deeply grieved. But I understood -Roderick had succeeded him in the parish. The General always said he -intended that he should.' - -'General Drysdale meant to be very kind; but Roderick has joined the -Free Church, so he could not accept, and I fear both the General and -Lady Caroline are a good deal displeased. But you know he had to do -what he thought right. Tell me, however, have you been very ill?' - -'Oh! I have been broiling on that terrible rock all the summer, like -the rest, and I had a pretty sharp attack of fever. But the week at -sea, coming home, has set me up again. But about you and Roddie,--do -you mean to say that for his church crotchets he has dragged you out -of the old manse where you were born? And that you and he are living -down here? Where do you live, by the way? Not in the village tavern, -surely!--with its pipe-smoking and toddy-drinking--and yet I see no -place else.' - -'We live in the cottages. Several of the villagers each give us a -room, so we are not so badly off for space, though the rooms are -pretty far apart.' - -'I would not have believed that your brother could have behaved so -badly as to bring you down to that. And I did not think my mother -would have allowed it. Were you not asked to stay at Inchbracken?' - -'I fear she and General Drysdale are too much displeased with my -brother for bringing the Free Church controversy into the parish, and -with me for following him, even to waste another thought upon either -of us. And perhaps, Captain Drysdale, it is wrong in me to stand here -talking to you, when I know how deeply we have offended your family. -Perhaps they might not like it.' - -'And what then? Miss Brown. Am I still in pinafores at -eight-and-twenty, that my mamma is to give consent before I may be -allowed to speak to my very oldest friend? Why! Mary, girl, I have had -you in my arms before you could walk, and I have fished you out of -more than one burn, where you might very well have been drowned if I -had not been near. And you know when you were eight years old you -promised'-- - -'Pray stop! Captain Drysdale. Those are old stories, and neither you -nor I are to be bound by the foolish speeches of our childhood. Dear -old Kilrundle! I shall never forget our happy days there. But things -have changed--I think this must be your gig.' - -It _was_ his gig, and with a very hearty shake-hands on either side, -he got into it, and drove away. - -'Prettier than ever,' he kept saying to himself, and the touch of the -soft hands and the light in the violet eyes seemed to remain with him, -and to vibrate about his heart, like the echo of a pleasant strain, -till an hour later be alighted at Inchbracken. - -Mary Brown strolled back to the village, her thoughts running on many -things at once, the pleasant memories of the long ago and the somewhat -sordid experiences of the present. Had Mrs. Sangster of Auchlippie -been by, and known what was passing in her mind, she would surely have -told her she was looking back to the fleshpots of Egypt, and exhorted -her to take warning by the melancholy fate of Lot's wife. - -Mrs. Sangster was a lady who took a particular interest in her own -side of the ecclesiastical contest; and indeed it paid her to do so. -She was the wife of the great man of the congregation, and seeing how -mightily her consequence had prospered under the schism, she might -well be zealous. From being an unpretending gentleman farmer, and the -smallest heritor in the parish, her husband was now one of the few -landed proprietors adhering to the Free Church, and one of those, -therefore, whom she delighted to honour. Their snug home with its -arable land and pastures, had now become a territorial designation -attached to his name by an accented 'of,' like a German 'von,' and -when he attended the General Assembly at Edinburgh he found himself -sitting in committee and on platforms with the Church's solitary -Marquis and the great magnates of the cause, while Madame had her seat -in the Assembly among the honourable women, behind the Moderator's -chair. - -Fortunately for Mary, Mrs. Sangster did not appear. It was only her -messenger in the person of a bare-foot herd laddie, who brought an -invitation to drink tea; so Mary might let her thoughts linger in -Egypt as they would. Indeed, in her case the rebuke could hardly be -held to apply, seeing it was not the Free Church she had followed into -the wilderness, but only the steps of her dear brother, that she might -support and minister to him wherever and however he might need her -help; consequently her religion manifested itself only as it had -always done, in charities and good deeds, and as she had little -to say on controversial subjects she was held to be 'juist a wee -cauldrife'--a weakly sister after the pattern of Martha, troubled -about many things and much serving, but hardly sound on the importance -of the Headship, seeing she was disposed to look on all ministers as -alike good, whether they had come out or stayed in. - -Mary lingered long over her breakfast, but at length it was concluded, -and she rose and returned to the study over the way. In the distance -coming down the hill road, she now descried her brother jogging slowly -down towards her. - -'Eppie,' she cried, 'here comes my brother at last; will you make him -some tea?' - -'Hoot, mem! He's no wantin' his breakfast, I'm thinkin', or he'd be -for makin' mair speed, saw ye e'er a hungry man danderin' down the -road like yon? But preserve us a'! What's yon he's carryin' afore him -on the bit pownie? It micht e'en be a bairn by the looks o' the -bun'le, an' the tent he taks on't.' 'A' weel, sir!' she shouted as he -drew near, 'Ye've had a sore traivel. Hoo's a' wi' ye, sir? An' wad ye -like a dish o' tea, sir! Or a drap kale? My pat's on this twa hour, an -I'm thinkin' there's a hantle mair fushion in that, nor a' yer -dribblin' teapats. Tak tent, sir!' she added as he proceeded to alight -before the door, 'gie us the bun'le an' ye'll licht easy. Lord sakes! -sir, wha's acht the bairn? A gangin' fit's aye gettin', folk says, but -wha'ar gat ye the wein?' - -'Well Eppie! It's a poor little shipwrecked sailor, and I believe an -orphan. I picked it up among the wreck of a ship that was lost at -Effick Mouth last night, and we must care for it till we find out whom -it belongs to. Though I fear its parents are among those lost in the -shipwreck. Poor little soul! See how it takes to you already, Eppie!' - -'The bonny lamb! an' sae it diz, an' it micht tak up wi' waur folk nor -Eppie Ness. I'se tent ye, my birdie! Hoot awa! Miss Mary, what ken a -young thing like you about fendin' for a bairnie? Young folk hae -muckle to learn, an' yer time 'ull come, hinnie, or I'm muckle -mistaen. I'll seek out the bit cradle whaur my ain bonny wee lambie -lay, 'at's been wi' the Lord noo gaun on twenty year, gin ye'll haud -this wee birdie, Miss Mary. An' ye can be seein' til its claes, an' -we'll hae to mak meat til't.' - -So the baby was carried into the house, undressed and bathed and fed, -and put to sleep in Eppie's cradle. When the shawls were removed they -disclosed a little girl dressed in many delicate embroideries, and -around its body was entwined part of a gold chain corresponding to the -links which Roderick had observed in the grasp of the drowned woman on -the beach. These properties they carefully folded up and put away to -assist in the future identification of the child, and Roderick wrote a -letter to the _Edinburgh Witness_ describing the waif he had rescued -from the sea, in hopes it might meet the eye of some friend or -relation. - - - - - CHAPTER V. - - JULIA. - - -When Captain John joined the family at dinner that day, it was with -feelings of more than his wonted self-content. He had returned from -his fishing only the hour before, and had brought with him the two -finest salmon that had been caught that season. The game-keepers and -retainers had admired them as in duty bound, but theirs was the -admiration that pleases only _faute de mieux_, seeing that it can be -counted on, while to-day his nephew, his old rival in field sports, -was present to join in the applause. - -They sat down, a party of five, the three gentlemen already described, -Lady Caroline, and her kinswoman Miss Finlayson. Lady Caroline was the -great lady of the neighbourhood. She was tall and dignified, with a -thorough appreciation of her own importance; also she was somewhat -indolent, and therefore disposed to be good-natured and condescending, -whenever her superiority was quietly acquiesced in. She spent a few -weeks each summer in London with her husband, but these visits were -yearly becoming shorter. There were so many persons of more -consequence than herself, and she found herself so much in the -position of one in a crowd, that she felt as if losing her sense of -personal identity, became depressed, and hurried home never to return, -or would have done so had it not been for Miss Finlayson, her -judicious young friend, who never once presumed to advise or direct, -but who yet could influence her in opposition to her own inclination, -to remain in town to the end of the season, to return again the next -year, and to do any thing else the said Miss Finlayson might desire. - -Miss Finlayson was a young lady of five or six-and-twenty, and of -slender fortune and accommodating disposition, who could converse or -keep silence, read, write, play or sing, laugh or cry in sympathy with -the mood of her protectress. In person as in manner she can only be -described negatively. She was quite what a young lady should be at all -points, or at least, when you come to particularize, nothing that she -should not be. Had Madame Contour, her London dressmaker, sent home -her person and demeanour, as well as her admirably fitting draperies, -she would have been very much as she was. Her figure was tall and -well-proportioned, waist small, bust a little flat, easily amenable to -the touch of art, arms slender but well rounded and charmingly white, -hands and feet adapted to the smallest and daintiest of gloves and -slippers. Her complexion was pale but clear, lips thin, mouth long, -nose slightly aquiline, eyes somewhat pale, forehead too high, but -with the dark hair drawn well over the temples, and long ringlets -descending nearly to the waist. Altogether a pale but not unpleasing -vision, and what Madame Contour would have called 'very ladylike.' She -had come to Inchbracken three years before, on a cousinly visit of a -fortnight; but Lady Caroline had found her so delightful and -invaluable a companion that she had been induced to prolong her stay -from month to month, till at length, after prolonged entreaties, she -had consented to sacrifice what she called her independence, and make -Inchbracken her home. - -Her insight into the character of those about her was unusually -distinct, and the tact with which she applied the knowledge so -acquired thoroughly artistic. With the General she was all grateful -deference and modest trust; hanging on his lips for any occasional -oracles of wisdom that chance might issue, but very careful not to -bore him with her presence or conversation unsought, and ever ready -with a light for his cigar when his own matchbox was mislaid, as it -generally was. With Captain John she was gay, always ready with a -flippant repartee whenever he attempted to gibe, but still upon her -guard. There was a twinkle in the old gentleman's eye whenever they -engaged in a passage of arms, which suggested that he too had some of -the insight on which she depended so much in playing the game of life. -With Lady Caroline, as already said, she was self-adaptive and -sympathetic, and yet to all appearance spontaneously so, and without -ever sinking her own individuality, or permitting herself to be taken -for granted like a dependent. Besides amusing, she contrived to -relieve her of many small burdens and domestic cares, and so became -altogether indispensable to her indolent kinswoman. She interfered in -nothing, and yet there was no part of the household machine that did -not run smoother when lubricated by her good offices. The housekeeper, -the head gardener, even my lady's own woman came in time to solicit in -an emergency the favourable intervention of this best natured of all -young ladies, and always with the best results. - -Lady Caroline found at length that she need neither think nor act, -save when she felt inclined, and she declared with fervour, that Julia -Finlayson was as good as a daughter of her own. That amiable person -was quite content that it should be so, and indeed was most willing -that Lady Caroline should have a full legal claim on her filial duty. -By some deft manipulation of circumstances, the idea of her becoming a -daughter-in-law had been suggested to her ladyship's mind, while the -dear disinterested Julia stood immaculate from every suspicion of -scheming, and, strange as it may seem, Lady Caroline was disposed to -acquiesce. Her Kenneth, she said, would never make a great marriage, -and if he would bring home a nobody, there was none she would more -willingly take to her mother's heart than 'poor Julia.' The adjective -is not exactly an enthusiastic one, but narrow circumstances had -taught Miss Finlayson philosophy, and she did not look to gather -grapes off thorns. If the thorns would only consent not to scratch -till she had made good her hold, she knew she could pick them off at -her leisure afterwards; and then for a crackling blaze under the pot! -It would be 'poor thorns' then! But meanwhile, to acquire a -mother-in-law, that lady's consent is by no means the essential or -only step. 'First catch your hare,' or the pot will be empty, and the -thorns to crackle under it will never be required. Though the damsel -sit expectant and willing in her bower, what matter, if the wooer -comes not? and so far Kenneth had shown no desire to approach Julia's -bower in wooer's guise. Most callous of men, and most indifferent of -cousins, he had passed under all the battery of charms and -accomplishments, and never known. In all cousinliness he had taught -her to fish, and to row on the loch. When she admitted a curiosity as -to men's pursuits and a liking for tobacco smoke, he had welcomed her -to the smoking-room, where she felt inclined to study _Bell's Life_, -and also to the billiard room, where, in fact, he made her a very -tolerable player, but that was all,--he felt to her only as if she had -been a very little brother, and wondered what she meant by so many -dainty affectations, and why she should bother to do so many things he -shrewdly suspected she did not like. As to her clever little leadings, -feints, and fencings colloquial, they were so much good brain-power -thrown away, and might have been spoken in French or Sanscrit for any -idea they conveyed to him. In fact she was altogether too -sophisticated and utterly fine for this country-bred swain, and -besides, she was always there. - -If you had partridge every day for breakfast, partridge for dinner, -and partridge again at supper, how long would you continue to relish -that dainty food? And so probably in the case of a healthy young man -with plenty of social opportunities, a permanent residence under the -same roof does not afford the sportswoman the best opportunity to bag -her game. So many weapons and devices become useless after a trial or -two. What can be the efficacy of a parting glance, for instance, if -the glancer has only gone behind the rose-bush at the other end of the -garden? And how can one recall a last _tête à tête_, when the partner -in it sits in an adjoining chamber, ready to resume? And how can -imagination and memory ever come into play, with the fair object -always in full view? Miss Finlayson was not only too sophisticated, -but she was always there, and so, simple Mary Brown, though probably -not so handsome according to Madam Contour's standard, and certainly -less clever and accomplished, had taken possession of the young man's -affections, and kept them, in spite of all the wiles of the syren. - -All this, however, had come to an end two years ago when Kenneth, -after long leave and quarters in the nearest garrison town, was -ordered with his regiment to Gibraltar. In the meantime Mary Brown had -become involved in the disgrace into which every well regulated mind -in the Inchbracken circle considered that her brother had sunk. In -fact she had so completely fallen out of their world that she need not -be considered further, except to keep her out. Wherefore Julia made -haste to welcome Kenneth's return, with all the warmth of a cousin, -and to intimate as far as a well-bred damsel may, that she was -capable, perhaps, of even warmer feelings. - -The conversation at dinner that evening ran much on Captain John's -successful angling. The appearance of his largest salmon at table gave -the ladies an opportunity to join in the applause, which every male -inhabitant of the house and offices had already offered. - -'If you would only go out oftener, John!' said Lady Caroline. 'None of -the men ever seem able to bring home anything larger than a small -grilse.' - -'Was it above or below the bridge you caught him? Captain Drysdale,' -asked Miss Finlayson. - -And so John was launched on an extended narrative of his day's spoil. -Every bolt and plunge and feint and double of his fish was duly -recorded, with sufficient local description to make the whole -perfectly intelligible. He told his story remarkably well, and quite -aroused the interest of his auditors. Too much so, perhaps, if the -General's opinion had been asked; but then the General may have been -hypercritical, owing to an idea he had of elevating dinner into one of -the fine arts. 'You see,' he would say 'one can only dine once in -twenty-four hours, that is to say if one is not to be talked about, -which would be unpleasant, or to lose use of one's liver, which would -be worse. And so, for myself I confess I look forward to dinner as the -event of the day, and like to approach it in a proper spirit. There -should be some talk of course, because we are neither beasts nor -cannibals; but it should be light, gay, and cheerful, for good spirits -promote digestion--yet not too engrossing--and especially--no -discussion! That distracts the attention, till a man may not know -whether it is a quail or a snipe he is eating. We want a cheerful -tranquility at dinner, in order to appreciate rightly the dishes -submitted; and give due attention to the business before us and that, -I take it, is the deglutition of food.' - -On the present occasion, however, the General's views were neither -asked nor propounded, and John rambled pleasantly forward through the -various events of his day. - -'By the way, Kenneth! I met your old crony, young Brown, this morning. -Poor lad! Fanaticism has changed him sadly; long-haired, lank-jawed, -and saucer-eyed, that is what he has become. He might be a Covenanter, -or a member of the Barebones Parliament. He appeared to be returning -home from Inverlyon, where he must have been last night, for it was -about eight o'clock when I met him on the road this morning, jogging -along, (how he used to gallop about the countryside of old!) and -mounted, of all beasts for a douce Free Kirk priest to be astride, on -that poaching rascal Patey Soutar's pony!' - -'Hm!' said the General,'I always said secession was just inserting the -small end of the wedge! They quarrel with our vested right of -patronage now, but that is only the beginning. By and by they will -question our right to the grouse on our own hills, and want to repeal -the game laws! If they had their way, I wonder would they leave us a -roof over our heads, or a coat on our backs? That comes of your Reform -Bills! and putting the government of the country in the hands of -people who have nothing to lose! But I did not expect to see the son -of my old friend array himself with such as these. It is very sad.' - -'Did he seem cheerful, John?' asked Kenneth. - -'He looked as I say, tired, thin, and hollow-eyed. But when I tried -mildly to remonstrate, and show that he had made the change for the -worse, he fired up briskly enough, and held forth quite at length. He -might have been talking still, I daresay, but that just then, there -came a squeal from a parcel he carried on his saddle bow. I pricked up -my ears at that, and resolved to take _my_ innings then. He had been -discoursing on the solemnity of his avocations, which precluded -shooting and fishing, so here I had a fine opening for chaff, saying -that his presbytery might reasonably forbid these, seeing that it -allowed other pastimes so much more engrossing, for--saving your -presence, Lady Caroline--the bundle contained a baby! Poor fellow, he -seemed so put-out, I really did not catch his explanation--though of -course there was one, (there always is--) The confusion seemed quite -out of proportion, for after all as the French girl said to her -priest, "it was such a little one!" Ha, ha!!' - -But no one joined in the laugh. The ladies were examining the flowers -painted on their plates, and the gentlemen kept a severe silence. You -surely went too far there! Captain John! Good man. He loved to make a -joke, but it was not often that he achieved one. If desire had been -qualification, he would certainly have been a wit; and when he thought -he had achieved one, he repeated it till every one he knew had heard -it. Hence the repetition of the morning's rather thread-bare jest. - -Perhaps it was only to break an awkward silence that Miss Finlayson -took up the word. - -'Your woman Briggs tells me, Lady Caroline, that that Tirpie girl, old -Tibbie's daughter, has come home again. When Briggs came over from -Inverlyon last night, there was some one else in the stage-coach, all -wrapped up, who sat and cried the whole way. She got out at Tibbie's -cottage. This morning Briggs went over about some sewing, and there -was the girl looking so thin and pale. Briggs says it was distressing -to see her, she looked so weak and heart-broken. Perhaps you may -remember that she was ailing and went away to some friend at a -distance. Now she is home again. I fear she is not a good girl, at -least not all her mother would wish her to be. But perhaps you could -let her have some fine sewing, Briggs says any other kind of work -would be too much for her.' - -The boisterous unmannerliness of Captain John's remark had caused a -sensation, but it was as nothing to the dismay which followed Miss -Finlayson's perfectly quiet, evenly uttered, and perhaps charitably -intended words. She seemed virtuously unconscious of all evil, but by -some occult association of ideas, her statement fell into the minds of -her auditors as corroborative and supplementary to what had been meant -but as a little verbal horse play by the Captain. - -Lady Caroline looked deeply shocked, Kenneth flushed scarlet with -indignation, and as his glance met John's, the latter returned it with -a twinkle of mingled amusement and admiration. He passed his napkin -across his mouth to hide an uncontrollable grin, and muttered to -Kenneth his neighbour--'the scandalous jade!' - -William the footman appeared to quiver as if struck. His eye dilated -and his jaw fell. The dish he carried would have fallen, and there -would have been a catastrophe, had not the butler trodden on his toe -and recalled him with a reproving glance to that sublime impassibility -which alone is worthy of a footman on duty. - -The General alone remained tranquil. He was eating his dinner. He -heard something pass between the ladies about one of the cottagers, -but his thoughts were running on other things, whether, for instance, -another clove of garlic, or perhaps an olive would not give a rounder -fulness to the sauce on his plate. - -There was little or no conversation afterwards. Every one seemed -distraught, and following out a train of new and unpleasant ideas, -except Miss Finlayson, who seemed securely content, a participant with -the General in his digestive tranquility. Perhaps she had fired her -shot and it had sped home to its mark, or perhaps there was no mark -and no intention when the winged words flew forth. We read that of old -'a certain man drew a bow at a venture.' The arrow sped, and entering -the unguarded joint of a harness, it laid a warrior low. It may be -that Julia's arrow was thus unwittingly shot, but Captain John did not -think so. - - - - - CHAPTER VI. - - _SOPHIA_. - -Three weeks later, Mrs. Sangster entertained friends. Dinner at -Auchlippie took place earlier than at Inchbracken--finished the -afternoon rather than began the evening. At its conclusion the master -withdrew, to make the round of his stables and cattle sheds, and see -that the stock was fitly provided and bestowed for the night. His son, -Mr. Peter Sangster of Manchester and his friend Mr. Wallowby, likewise -of Manchester, and now in Scotland for a short vacation, also withdrew -and lighting their cigars sauntered down the avenue. Only the Rev. Mr. -Dowlas was left within doors in company with Mrs. Sangster and her -daughter. The latter sought her embroidery frame in a distant bay -window, and soon became engrossed in counting the squares of her -Berlin wool work. - -The elder lady was left alone to converse with her ghostly friend, and -the pair selecting the two easiest and roomiest chairs they could -find, drew a long breath and settled themselves for along and -confidential 'crack.' There was much to tell and to hear about the -fortunes of the 'cause' throughout the several parishes of their -presbytery, in which Mr. Dowlas was a guiding spirit; but at length -they came round to the lady's own parish of Kilrundle, which she, as -ruling lady of the ruling elder and chief adherent, considered as her -own in a more especial sense than did any other of the parishioners. - -'And I think,' she said, 'Mr. Dowlas, that we here in Kilrundle, have -fought the good fight as well as any of you. They tell me there were -not two dozen residuaries in Kilrundle Church on Sunday, though the -Inchbracken family are far more particular about their servants -attending ordinances now than they used to be. And Lady Caroline goes -twice every Sunday herself. You know there was many and many a Sabbath -day in the old time, that she never darkened the kirk door at all, but -now she goes to countenance that sticket dominie that fills good old -Doctor Brown's pulpit. Well! poor misguided woman, let us hope she may -perhaps get some small enlightenment to her darkened mind! Though, I -fear, the motive which draws her to the sanctuary, being only the -support of high handed error and worldliness, is one not likely to -bring a blessing. It seems _doubtful_ to me too if we have any right -to consider the churches of the Establishment as sanctuaries at all. -Just hot-beds of soul-deadening Moderatism and Erastianism, where the -word of God is only permitted, in so far as it can be made to square -with Lord Aberdeen's Bill.' - -'Well ma'am! they _do_ say that that sinful Act of Parliament is laid -on the table of the residuary presbyteries side by side with the word -of God! But I would fain hope that that is an exaggeration. I hear you -are having very full meetings at the Muir Foot; times of refreshing, I -hope, and sincere milk of the word.' - -'We've much to be thankful for. On fine days when the heather's dry, -far more turn out than ever I saw in Old Kilrundle Kirk in its best -days; and even when it rains, you'd be surprised to see how many sit -out the discourse under their plaids and umbrellas. I hope the hearts -of the persecutors may be turned before long, however, and that we may -get a stanse for a church, before the rough weather sets in. There's a -very suitable stanse, just opposite Inchbracken Gates, and in full -view of the Old Kirk. That would suit us finely and be a standing -testimony against the backslidings in high places, and I want Mr. -Sangster to head a deputation and wait on the General, poor -thoughtless worldling, and lay our case before him, simply but -faithfully; but I cannot prevail on him to undertake the duty, for I -think it is a duty. He says he cannot afford to quarrel with General -Drysdale, who has always been a good neighbour, though I cannot say it -myself. I have found Lady Caroline always very high with me. I fear, -poor woman, she wants some grievous affliction to bring her to a due -sense of her unworthiness, and that she'll get it. However, widow -Forester has a small free-hold down Glen Effick, and the Deacons' -Court are considering about buying a corner fronting on the high road. -She wants a big price for it though, and they cannot get her to move -from her terms. She says the bit of land is all she has in the world, -and she must do the best she can with it.' - -'Ah!' sighed the minister, 'filthy lucre!' It is strange, people will -set so much store by things which perish in the using, notwithstanding -the noble example of the widow in the gospel, who cast into the -treasury all her living!' - -'Yes, it is indeed sad to see such worldly-mindedness; and you see -we've a poor congregation, and whatever money is spent on the ground, -there will be just so much less to lay out on the building, and we -will end with having some poor draughty little place, with narrow -benches and straight backs, enough to give one the fidgets in a long -service, or an attack of rheumatism. We have subscribed twenty pounds -ourselves to the church building fund, and it seems very hard that so -much of the money should just be going into widow Forester's pocket; -I cannot think that a person like that can be in a proper frame of -mind. Indeed, I called on her myself, and strove to place the matter -before her in all love and faithfulness. I earnestly besought her to -leave all care and anxiety for her poor perishing body in higher -hands,--and, what do you think? Mr. Dowlas, she had the assurance to -tell me that we had better give them a site for church, manse and -school, up here at Auchlippie! The impertinent beasom! I just gave her -one look, and I walked out of her house--and I will never speak to -that woman again!' - -There came a twinkle into the minister's eye. He was by no means -devoid of the sense of humour, and perhaps that trait in himself, -which led the 'unregenerate' to think they detected in him a -considerable vein of pawkie selfishness, led him more keenly to enjoy -his friend's unconscious display of a similar propensity. He soon, -however, solemnized his features and voice with the regulation -ecclesiastical sigh. - -'The flesh is weak! my dear friend,' he said in time, 'and we must -bear with one another's infirmities! The strong especially must bear -with the weak.' - -'Yes,' retorted the lady, whose meekness was generally absent on the -faintest hint of reproof, 'but the weak are required to look up to the -strong for guidance as well as protection; for the powers that be are -ordained of God. And I consider that the like of Widow Forester was -very far out of her duty to speak back to _me_. The Shorter Catechism -is most precise about superiors, inferiors, and equals.' - -'Ah yes!' said the minister, with his twinkle of eye, and more unction -of voice. He was too sensible a man to embroil himself with an angry -woman and a hospitable hostess. 'It is a wonderful compendium of sound -and wholesome doctrine, the Shorter Catechism. I hope our young friend -Mr. Brown sees that the lambs of the flock are well grounded in its -hallowed teachings.' - -'Oh he does, and I am very particular myself that my young women's -class have all the scripture proofs to each question at their finger -ends. I would like you to examine them, Mr. Dowlas, to-morrow -afternoon. You see Mr. Brown is but young yet, though he is a most -excellent lad, and I feel to him almost like a mother, and try to -advise him as an older head sometimes can. But he's rather fractious -at times to the voice of instruction. Young folk, you see, will be -young folk!' - -'Yes ma'am,' said Mr. Dowlas, who, whatever his faults, was always -loyal to his cloth, and would permit no one but himself to say -anything against a cleric in his presence, 'I look on you people of -Kilrundle as most fortunate in your minister. He is one of the -excellent of the earth, and has few equals in the presbytery either -for piety or learning, or I think talent. If he lives he will take a -high place in the church, and then his zeal and his sacrifices for the -cause are something to make many an older member blush. You see, to -him Erastianism showed itself in its most enticing aspect, for his -father, we must all admit, was a worthy man, though moderate.' - -'Ah yes!' broke in the lady; 'there's where it is! In this life he had -his good things, and was thought a worthy man; but he would not join -at the Disruption. The pleasures of sin for a season were too much for -him, and now he is gone to his account! It's a solemn thought, Mr. -Dowlas, to think where that poor old man may be now!' Here she became -ejaculatory. 'Without are dogs--and moderates.' - -The minister here broke in to prevent worse, 'As the tree falleth, -dear lady, so shall it lie. Old Doctor Brown led a godly life, and it -is not permitted to pry into the mysteries beyond the veil. He -belonged to an earlier generation, and was so bound up in the work of -his parish that I do not think he gave much thought to what was -transpiring in the church at large. We may judge from the training he -gave his son, that his heart was in the right place, and from the -course his son has taken since he was brought face to face with the -questions of the day, we may guess how the father would have acted if -he had been similarly placed. Just see how young Roderick, though not -yet ordained, has brought out the whole of his large parish with him. -It is a great achievement! When do Mr. Sangster and the Session intend -to moderate the call, and get him ordained and settled among you?' - -'Well! to tell you the truth, Mr. Dowlas, I have been rather delaying -and keeping back Mr. Sangster (so far as a wife may) from pressing -that matter forward too precipitately. It seems to me that, with the -young man's talents, it is like hiding gospel light under a bushel, to -keep him in this poor neighbourhood. If he had only a chance now to -preach in Edinburgh or Glasgow, or even Aberdeen, who knows but he -might get a call to a city church? While if he is once ordained and -settled here, he may be twenty years before he gets out of it. Between -ourselves--you see, there has been a very considerable intimacy -between him and our Sophia, for years and years back. I cannot say -that anything has ever been said--I will not say that anything wants -to be said--but a mother's heart, Mr. Dowlas, will ponder and be -anxious. Before the Disruption, when there was every prospect of his -becoming assistant and successor to his father, such an arrangement -might have been feasible enough--not that it could be said to be much -of a match for our daughter--but when there is true love and true -religion, and a very good position in the county--for the Browns -always visited with the best, and the money the uncle that died in -India left them--. I fear I am a wee bit romantic, Mr. Dowlas, but I -think if matters had arranged themselves in that way, and Sophia -had wished, I could have given my consent. But the Disruption has -changed all that! Still, with a city charge, and a nice congregation -able to support a minister, like St. George's, Edinburgh, we will -say,--perhaps we might have thought of it yet. But if he settled down -here in Kilrundle, without either church or manse, it would be a clear -tempting of Providence to entrust him with the happiness of our -Sophia. I think of her that we have reared with such care, and given -the most expensive education to!--potichomania, even, and the use of -the globes!--to be living about among the cottars in Glen Effick. It -would never do! The clay floors would bring on a galloping consumption -in six month's time!' - -'Mr. Guthrie, ma'am, of Edinburgh, will remedy all that before long. -Have you not heard of the wonderful success that is attending his -scheme? which is, to build a manse for every minister in the Church? I -hear he is carrying everything before him, and I am not surprised. -Such energy and such powers of persuasion could not possibly fail.' - -'I hope it may be so, for the Church's sake. But as regards Mr. Brown, -he would still be in but a small way to take a wife. Not that I would -have you for a moment to imagine that we are looking for a proposal -from him. I have great confidence in Sophia's sound Christian -principles. I do not think she would ever bring herself to do anything -rashly or unadvisedly--she has great prudence and sound sense. Did you -observe Mr. Wallowby at dinner, and the very marked attention he paid -her? I believe he is interested in her already! and no wonder, for -there are few like her, either for good looks or solid sense. Mr. -Wallowby is very wealthy, and perhaps Sophia might see it her duty to -accept, if he were to propose. Great wealth opens such a door for -extended usefulness! That would relieve my mind greatly as to Roddie -Brown, poor man, and his prospects. But as I said before, Sophia has -never opened her mind to me, nor, I believe, has either admirer spoken -to her. Roddie would speak fast enough, I am sure, if he either saw -his way to keep a wife, or got encouragement from us; but we must see -our way better before doing that. As for Mr. Wallowby, he only arrived -yesterday, but I think so soon as he knows his own mind, he will let -us know it too.' - -'It is an anxious time for a mother, when a beloved daughter's -settlement comes to be decided. But here come our young friends Mr. -and Miss Brown!' - -In fact the Sangster dog-cart here drove past the window, and set down -the young preacher and his sister at the door. Thereupon supervened -considerable noise of voices in the hall, for Peter Sangster and his -friend had been smoking through the bars of the lodge gate when the -dog-cart came in sight, and Mr. Wallowby had been so taken with what -he was pleased to call the trim clipper-like cut of Mary Brown, that -he had persuaded Peter to dismiss the groom driving, and get in -themselves to accompany the new comers to the house. Peter being an -old acquaintance and admirer of Mary's was not averse, and when he -found her seated at his side, he wished the avenue had been of greater -length. - -Sophia left her embroidery frame to meet Mary as she alighted, and -carry her off to her chamber, while Roderick entered the presence of -the Lady of Auchlippie. - -Mr. Dowlas hailed the arrival with sincere satisfaction, for his -hostess' postprandial confidences had been a little irksome. She had -been loquacious and exciting, when, if the unvarnished truth may be -told, he would fain have been silent, still, tranquil, somnolent and -perhaps even asleep; for he had dined copiously. At any time it is -unpleasant to hear one's sincerely cherished sentiments caricatured, -or made ridiculous by being introduced in a discordant connection, but -it is aggravating when the exhibition is obtruded on a mind rendered -reposeful by the sense of physical repletion. The lady's jumble of -genuine selfish worldliness and artificial pietism had been very far -from soothing. He could not but admit in his heart, that he had -detected something like the same stirring of mixed motives in himself; -but then, even to himself, they had taken a more seemly guise. Here in -their grosser manifestation they shocked him greatly. It seemed like -looking in a distorting mirror, when the gazer cannot withdraw his -eyes from the hideous image, which he still perceives to be his own, -although so different and deformed. - -Mr. Dowlas rose, and said he would take a short stroll in the garden -before tea. Mrs. Sangster re-seated herself with Roderick, and -proceeded to make herself busy with the worldly affairs and spiritual -state of many members of his flock, giving much valuable advice, as of -a mother in Israel to her youngest son. Her eye, however, rested not -on his comely face, but peered over his shoulder to see how it sped -with Sophia and Mr. Wallowby, for she was resolved that no detrimental -influence should come between that wealthy man of Manchester and her -daughter's charms, if perchance she might find favour in his eyes. - -Alas! the rich man's eyes were fixed on Mary Brown, whose lively talk -engaged both himself and Peter, while Sophia, resplendent embodiment -of repose and still life, completed the group, but contributed nothing -to the conversation. Mrs. Sangster grew restless as she watched, lost -the thread of her discourse more than once, resumed in the wrong -place, and wondering what her interlocutor would think, grew more and -more confused. Had she looked in his face instead of past him, she -would have been reassured. He had moved his chair a little so as to -see, by turning his eye, in the same direction to which her looks were -directed, and he sat regarding her with a smile of reposeful content. -He probably knew nothing of what she was saying, and in truth he -bestowed only so much attention as enabled him to smile or bow when a -pause in the current of words seemed to call for a sign of assent. The -young man's soul was steeped in tranquil satisfaction. He breathed the -same air, he occupied the same room with Sophia,--the Sophia ever -present in his thoughts by day and his dreams by night, and when he -raised his eyes they rested on her form. - -Sophia Sangster--the name is prosaic enough. Not Romeo himself could -have taught the nightingales to warble it. But there are no -nightingales in the North, and the name of the girl he loved best had -never struck Roderick as wanting in melody. She was about the same age -as his sister, but taller and larger in every way. Indeed, she was on -as large a scale as a woman can well be, without disturbing the sense -of fitness and harmony; but the proportion was so fine, that unless -when some one was near with whom to compare her, she would have passed -for the medium height. Perfectly modelled, and in the finest health, -she lent to each movement a rhythmical repose, while rest was in her -the suspended action we see in a marble statue, all free from the limp -flaccidity of lolling sloth. Her abundant hair was coiled in -numberless braids about her head, whose low forehead reminded one of -ancient sculpture. So also did the straight nose, full lips, and chin. -The rich currents of exuberant health lent brilliant carnation tints -to a soft and delicate skin, and nourished the cool shining of the -large brown eyes beneath the shadow of their curving lids and long -dark lashes-eyes into which poor Roderick had gazed with reverent -wonder since long ago. - -He saw in this maiden of the admirable physique, and the transparent -well-coloured eyes, all that was responsive to his enthusiastic and -imaginative nature. Another Pygmalion, he had breathed into her clay a -life derived from his own, and now, heathen-like, he worshipped and -rejoiced in the work of his own hands, and basked in the light of -perfections which existed only in his fanciful desires. With her fine -person and her talent for silence and repose, she was like a handsome -wall, on which the magic lantern of his thoughts could disport itself -in the gayest hues of imagination, and, for the present, with far more -comfort and delight than had the Sophia of his worship been a real -person, liable to be found wanting, and falling short of expectation. -Being an ideal creature altogether, it wanted but a little more -make-believe in a new place to fit her exactly to each varying mood. - -A young child finds greater and more lasting amusement in the rough, -coarse cuts to be found in a backstreet picture book, than in the -daintiest illustrations of Caldecott or Kate Greenaway; and the -reason, no doubt is, that art having realized less, there is more -scope for imagination--more field for the young idea to play in. So -too in heathendom, the worship of Isis continued a living cult long -after that of the Latin gods had become merely a state ceremonial. The -blank impersonal carving of the Egyptian idol left unlimited -possibilities to the devout imagination, which each worshipper could -work out according to his own needs, while the fully realized -conceptions of Grecian art showed more to the worshipper than perhaps -he could take in, and the bodily perfection displayed recalled rather -the victor in some circus contest than suggested the mysteries of the -unseen. - -But while we have been talking of her daughter, Mrs. Sangster and her -guests have gone to tea. Tea was a meal forty years ago. The company -sat round the table, which was set out with plates of bread and -butter, various kinds of cake, and sundry varieties of preserves, the -work of Sophia all, and works whose excellence warranted the pride she -took in them; for before all else Sophia was a notable housekeeper. - -After tea there was music, but it being Saturday night, Sophia -refrained from performing her last-learned polka, seeing it was an -elder's house and two ministers were present; not that she feared to -seduce these grave gentlemen into the levity of a dance, but that it -was not consonant with the Sabbath exercises of the coming morrow. -Mary therefore was called on to sing for them 'Angels ever bright and -fair,' and such other morsels of Handel as she could recall without -her music. After that, Mr. Sangster called for his favourite Psalm -tunes, in which he and Mr. Dowlas joined with immense relish, and no -small volume of sound. Mary's voice was completely overborne in the -din, and Mr. Wallowby added a new experience in sacred song to his not -very complimentary catalogue of the transgressions and shortcomings of -the Scotch as measured by the standard of Manchester. - - - - - CHAPTER VII. - - JOSEPH. - - -If night follows brighter day in more sunny climes, the colder skies -of Scotland enjoy at least the compensation of a lengthened gloaming. -The crimson glory of sunset ebbs more slowly away, and a paler -daylight lingers on and on, fading by imperceptible degrees, as the -blue transparent vapours of the still and warm earth rise to meet the -golden blue of heaven; it is hours before the two unite to wrap the -world in the purple gloom of night. - -On a slope of the upland moor which divides Glen Effick from the coast -was the spot where the Free Church congregation of Kilrundle held its -Sunday meetings in the open air. 'The Muir Foot' sloped evenly down -into the glen, not far outside the village, and close to the high -road, from which, nevertheless, it was entirely screened by a thicket -of birch and hazel. On the inner edge of this was a small platform for -the preacher, roofed and enclosed with canvas, and hence denominated -the tent. When the services were in Gaelic and the preacher indulged -in much action, the arrangement might have been suggested of Punch and -Judy to a frivolous stranger, but the people were too full of solemn -and earnest enthusiasm to see anything amiss. A stray colt on the -hillside projected against the sky, would bring to the minds of some a -vision of Claverhouse and his troopers in the olden time, for that was -a theme often presented to their thoughts in tract and sermon. They -had almost persuaded themselves the covenanting scenes were to be -played over again in their own times, and were steadfastly resolved to -'quit themselves like men' in the day of trouble. - -Before the tent there was a plat of turf, through the middle of which -a burn babbled over the stones; beyond, the moor swept gently upwards, -and here the worshippers were wont to sit, tier above tier, like the -audience in a theatre, to listen to the preaching of the word. In that -gloaming the place was not altogether deserted, the tap of a hammer -driving nails reverberated through the stillness. Joseph Smiley the -beadle and a joiner by trade, was at work making preparation for the -services of the morrow. He had driven a few posts into the sward, and -on these was nailing planks to form a rough bench or two, for the -eldership and the _élite_ of the congregation. There were also two or -three wooden chairs, but these he hid away in the tent to keep them -safe till the Sangster family should appear, and he had an opportunity -to present them. - -'It's nane o' yer orra bodies 'at's to hecht their tail on thae -chairs, an' me feshin' them a' the gate fra' hame, I'se warrant! I'll -mak an errand up til Auchlippie come Monday, an' gin I hae na twa half -crowns in my pouch, or a pair o' the maister's breeks in my oxter at -the hamecomin', my name's no Joseph Smiley!' With these comfortable -reflections he put on his coat, gathered up his tools, and started for -home in the gathering darkness. - -'Joseph Smiley!' - -The words came out of the darkness under a tree, as he passed through -the thicket and gained the road. Joseph recognized the voice, though -he could not see the speaker. - -'The deil flee awa wi' her auld banes! If that's no Tibbie Tirpie! -What brings the auld witch here wi' her blathers and fleetchin'! I hae -lippened til her haudin' her tongue afore folk, but here she's grippet -me my lane. But we maun speak the carlin fair'--so much under his -breath, then aloud-- - -'Hoo's a' wi' ye, Mistress Tirpie? It's lang sin we hae forgathered -the gither. But I'm aye speerin' after ye; I ken ye're weel!' - -It's no my bodily health 'at's ailin', Joseph Smiley, but my heart's -sair in me, an' ye ken what for.' - -'I'm sure, Luckie, I kenna what ye're drivin' at; gin gude will o' -mine wad gar ye thrive, ye'se thrive wi' the lave! an' as for sare -heart I kenna what there can be to fash ye. But there's balm in -Gilead, Mistress Tirpie, take ye yer burden there. I'm but a puir -door-keeper in the house of the Lord,--tho' it's better that nor -dwellin' in tents o' sin,--juist a puir silly earthen vessel, but I'se -testifee sae far. - -'Joseph Smiley! Ye twa-faced heepocrit. Hoo daar ye tak the word o' -God atween yer leein' lips like that? Are ye no feared the grund will -open an' swally ye up?' - -Fient a fear! Luckie, gin the earth swallied a' body 'at spak -unadveesedly wi' their lips, it wad hae a sair wamefu'! There's no -mony wad be left stan'in' ower grund. An' I'm misdoubtin' but ye'd no -be to the fore yersel', Tibbie. But lay by yer flitin'. Hoo's a' wi' -young Tib?' - -'An' it sets ye weel, Joseph Smiley, to be speerin' after my puir -dautie, after a' 'at's come an' gane. An' ye hae na come naar her this -three month come Saubith, for a' the wite ye hae wrocht her.' - -'What's the wite, mither? Is she no weel?' - -'No weel!--An' ye'll be for no letting on ye ken ocht about it!' - -'What wad a ken, Mistress Tirpie? She was aye a fine bit lassie, -blythe and bonny as ye'd see in a' the country side, but sin' she gaed -awa, naebody kenned whaur, I hae na heard tell o' her ava.' - -'Lay by! Joseph Smiley; I ken a' 'at's come an' gane atween ye; she's -telled me a'.' - -'The saft silly tawpie!' this aside, and under his breath. - -'I ken a' about yer guilefu' tongue, an' a' yer pawkie gates. An' -think ye I'll haud my whisht, an' see her bear the wite her lane? Ye -ken ye swore to marry her.' - -'Speak laich, mither; ye dinna ken wha's hearkenin'. They hae lang -lugs 'at travel after dark.' - -'Ye ken it's true! Joseph Smiley. Ye took yer Bible aith, an' ye beut -to keep it. Wha's fraickin' tongue but yours has played a' the -mischief? She gaed awa' at yer biddin', an' the bairn's left there, -an' naebody kens wha's acht it. But the matter canna bide sae, an' -ye'se beut to mak' a decent woman o' her noo. An' a gude wife she'll -mak ye, an' a faithfu' whan a's done.' - -'Speak laich, woman! An' bide a wee. (The deil's in the wife! the way -her tongue rins). Oh Mistress Tirpie! I'm bund till own it was ill my -pairt to do as I did; but the best o' us wull gang astray whiles. King -Dawvit himself, tho' I wadna be sae presumptious as even mysel' wi' -the like o' him, gaed ance wrang amang the lasses, but he made it a' -richt belive; an' sae aiblins wull I. But it taks time--we maun bide a -wee.' - -'An' what's to come o' Tibbie or than?' - -'The deil may flee awa' wi' her for me! An' I wuss he wad,' muttered -Joseph below his breath; but aloud his words were more prudent. 'She -maun just juke an' let the jaw gae by, like the lave. An' after a', -there's naethin' kenned till her discredit, we tuk braw gude care o' -that; and there's a gude tent taen o' the bairn as ye cud tak' -yersel', an' ye're its grannie. Bide a wee; it'll a' come richt. Ye -see, Mistress Tirpie, I'm an office-bearer e'y kirk, an' there maun be -nae clashes or clavers about me, or I'd lose my place. Gin thae -lang-tongued gouks cud find but a haunel, it's nae Joseph Smiley was -be lang the bederal o' Kilrundle, an' then whaur wad the siller come -frae for me to keep a wife?' - -'Hech! Joseph Smiley, but ye're a pawkie loon an' a slick-tongued! -Ye'd fraik the tail aff auld Hornie himsel'. But I'm misdoubtin' ye. -Ye'll be slippin' through our fingers yet, like an eel. But I'd be -laith to lose ye yer place; an' gin ye'll swear again afore me an' -cripple Cormack, an' own her for yer wife, I'se raise nae din. Least -said suinest mendet. But Tibbie's real lonesome, an' aye at the -greetin'. Ye maun come an' see her twa fore nichts ilka week, an' keep -up her heart.' - -'I'se tak my aith to yersel, Tibbie, wi' muckle pleasure, an' I'se -some an' see Tib, but I'll say naething afore auld Cormack. I winder -that a sensible woman like you wad fash wi' sic a doited auld gomeral, -'at can nae mair haud his tongue than he can flee. But I maun be -steerin', or it's cauld parritch I'll sup this nicht. Sae here's -wussin' ye weel, an' mind me kindly to Tibbie--bonny lass!--gude -nicht.' - -'Fushionless senseless gowk!' he muttered to himself as he turned -homewards. 'An' she's gaun to wive her on me is she? We'll see, -Luckie! Time wull tell! But it winna be by garrin' me own up afore -auld Cormack!' - -Tibbie likewise wended home. As she recalled her interview, she could -not but admit to herself that excepting fair words she had taken -little. At the same time she had broken ground, and her adversary had -betrayed no small dread of a scandal. She, had, therefore she thought -some slight hold on that slippery person, and took comfort in -recollecting that a salmon ere now has been angled for and landed with -a single horse hair. 'But we maun ca' canny,' she muttered to herself. -'He's a kittle chield to drive.' She began now to regret she had not -used her little pull towards securing some present advantage. It is -sweet to spoil the Egyptians. Besides, any tribute secured would be an -admission of her power, and every such tribute and admission would add -strength to the chain by which she hoped eventually to secure her -victim. Wherefore, it was resolved and decided in Tibbie's council of -one, that no time should be lost, but the very earliest opportunity -taken to commence operations. - - - - - CHAPTER VIII. - - _A FIELD PREACHING_. - - -Sunday in summertime among the hills is not like other days of the -week, and it is not like the Sundays given to less favoured scenes. It -is free from the smothering sense of restraints experienced in cities, -shut up as it were for the day, with their inhabitants paraded through -the streets in solemn raiment returning home to depressing lunches and -drowsy afternoons. It seems rather to foreshadow that bright eternal -Sabbath we looked forward to in childhood, ere faith grew dim-sighted -or criticism had been heard of,--that day when every act shall be -spontaneously holy, and each sacred observance a delight. The glorious -sunshine, the bright breezy sky streaked and dappled with shining -white clouds, the crimson moors and the all-pervading scent of the -heather, the hum of bees and the chirp of grasshoppers in the herbage, -a silence that is musical with faint and distant sounds, burns -babbling in the hollows, lambs bleating on the braes, all speak to the -spirit of perfect peace and freedom and holy gladness. - -The Sangster family preferred walking to church that morning. It was a -long walk, but they set forth in good time and the phaeton would bring -them home. It was with some misgiving lest she was yielding to the -allurements of sense, that Mrs. Sangster consented to gratify this -desire of the young people, but prudential considerations seemed to -recommend the arrangement. Sophia could have no better opportunity for -free and friendly talk with Mr. Wallowby, and Peter could walk with -Mary Brown. Mary had two or three thousand pounds, and was a 'nice -girl,' and should his lordship Peter, so incline, would not be an -unsuitable connection. Peter's private idea was not unlike his -mother's, indeed their views in secular matters were wonderfully -alike, and each could count on the support of the other without the -unpleasant feeling of conspiracy, which comes of putting schemes into -words, when they are apt to confront one so strangely and stare one -out of countenance. He was therefore the earliest in the hall and -stood hatted and gloved, ready to step forward so soon as his intended -companion should issue from her room. - -'What brings that fool Wallowby, in such a hurry?' he thought to -himself, as the latter appeared shortly after him, also equipped for -the walk But the 'fool Wallowby' had his own plans. He too was minded -to cross the moorland with 'that jolly Brown girl,' as he called her -to himself, rather than with the other 'stick' who had so little to -say for herself. - -'I think we have got ready too soon,' said Peter; 'the ladies will not -come down stairs for twenty minutes at least, they take so long to -dress,' and he moved as if for the door. - -'One expects to have to wait,' replied Wallowby, and he stood his -ground. - -Presently Mary appeared, descending the stairs. Wallowby secured her -book as she reached the landing, and placed himself at her side; and -Peter, not to be cut out, had to make a dash for her parasol on the -stand, and so constitute himself a third in the party. They set forth, -and when Mrs. Sangster got down stairs she beheld to her disgust Mary -Brown disappearing in the shrubbery attended by both the squires. - -'Bother that lassie!' she muttered, but whether it was her own -daughter or the other will never be known. At that moment Sophia, in -perfect tranquility, was still giving her orders in the kitchen for -the family dinner. - -Mr. Sangster kept his room. He often did so of a Sunday, for the time -had not yet arrived when a godly divine should stigmatize taking -medicine on Sunday as a form of Sabbath breaking. - -Eventually Sophia was ready to start, and at the same moment the two -ministers appeared. Mrs. Sangster was of course taken possession of by -the elder, and there was nothing for it but to let the ineligible -escort Sophia. There was consolation then in remembering how slow and -safe she was. No fear of _her_ being hurried into an entangling -admission during one moorland walk, but 'Oh! if Providence had only -seen fit to grant her a bright lively girl like Mary Brown!' - -No misgiving oppressed the soul of Roderick. The Sabbath in any case -was to him a day of holy calm, whose devout associations he had -cultivated by long habit into a sacred joy. To-day these were -exhausted by the surroundings. The sunshine on the hills seemed to -bring him into the very presence of a loving creator, and the -companion by his side was one whose image in his thoughts had long -stood for the embodiment of the good and beautiful. It was no vulgar -love-making that he poured forth as they walked along, but the -enthusiastic utterances of a devout young heart brimming over with -piety and content. - -And she? She looked up in his face and softly smiled. No need for -words, the light in her eye spoke more eloquently than poets had ever -sung. Poor youth! That light had shone as brightly and the smile had -been as sweet--less vague and more intelligent--when a little while -before she stood at the kitchen table and bade the cook put ten eggs -instead of twelve in the custard for dinner. - -Yet she really liked Roderick Brown. He was so good and so kind. She -had known him all her life, and she knew that he admired her. He did -not exactly say so, in fact she did not expect that, it would have -been too frivolous; but his voice grew softer when he spoke to her, -his eyes glowed, and his pale face would sometimes flush. She did not -understand much of what he said, but she knew she was not clever, and -was content it should be so. It was 'nice' to hear him talk about -heaven in his earnest eloquent way; it sounded all so real, and she -felt always more sure of going there when she was with him--he was so -good. - -Over the moor, down a brae, across a burn and up another slope. -Moorland again, past a peat hag with the new cut turf drying in the -sun. Straggling groups dotted the outlook, the dwellers in many a -distant shieling, all converging towards the common goal--the -preaching tent. Old men and women, mothers with their children, -shepherds with their dogs, lads and lasses, the latter carrying their -heavy shoes and stockings in their hands, till they should come to the -last burn before reaching the kirk, there, after a preliminary -footbath, to put them on and appear before the congregation decently -clad. - -Joseph Smiley, ever on the alert, produced his chairs as the Lady of -Auchlippie and her suite entered the assembly and took her place in -the front with a condescending smile, and Mr. Dowlas disappeared from -view behind the curtains of the tent. - -Roderick not being as yet an ordained minister, was not authorized to -celebrate the sacraments of the church, which necessitated the -occasional intervention of some one who was, as on the present -occasion, when Mr. Dowlas was to perform the rite of baptism, as might -be guessed from frequent thin small wails which issued intermittingly -from the neighbouring covert. Immediately in front of the tent were -the elders and deacons seated on the uncomfortable benches which -Joseph had constructed, and near them the older and more devout of the -people sat on their folded plaids, on stools or bunches of bracken. -These were the more earnest church members, denominated the 'far ben -christians' by their neighbours. Behind, reclining at their ease on -the elastic heather, where it sloped upward from the grassy level, -were the general company, who felt diffident about including -themselves with the 'professors,'--men, women, children and collie -dogs, basking in the sun and fanned by breezes sweet with the heather -and the wild thyme. - -Mr. Wallowby had all the prejudices of a middle-class Englishman. -Whatever differed from the use and wont of his native county and -country was wrong, and a good many things in the North had therefore -met with his disapproval; but of all the matters on which sane men -could differ, the most preposterous appeared to him to be church -affairs, in a country where the established religion was not entitled -to be called a church at all, but only, by a supercilious adoption of -the native speech, a 'Kirk,' as something altogether different; -though, to be sure, all bodies of Christians not affiliated to his -church were in the same position, excepting the Latin and Greek -communions, which being older than his, are wont to treat it with -precisely the same contemptuous disrespect. The present conventicle -promised at least more interest than a schismatic service in a kirk, -and Mr. Wallowby had come in a mood of bland condescension to enjoy -the humours of the scene, and amuse his superior mind with Sawney at -his devotions. But when he seated himself in the silent assemblage, -the spirit of the scene seemed to fall on him, and he found himself -strongly impressed. - -The minister shortly appeared in gown and bands, and although silence -overspread the crowd before, it seemed to deepen as the worshippers -straightened themselves in their seats, and fixed their gaze intently -on his face. Around, the swelling hills showed not a sign of life or -habitation; yet in this sequestered hollow a thousand souls perhaps, -were gathered together for prayer. The minister gave out a psalm, and -the whole congregation presently burst forth in song. At first the -voice of the precentor quavered uncertain and thin in the wide expanse -of the open air, then one by one a few others tremulously joined in, -till at length the ear of the people caught the familiar cadence of -'Bangor,' and the multitudinous voice rose in a mighty swell, filling -up that recess in the hillside, brimming over and reverberating among -the rocks around. Here and there around him he would perceive the -momentary jar of a bad voice or a false ear, but these were overborne -in the vast flood of sound, in which every one joined with a seeming -intensity of feeling that counterbalanced mere technical -imperfections, and fulfilling the purpose of all art, that of -conveying emotion from soul to soul, the song of those uncultured -voices impressed him as he had never been by choir and organ under the -fretted roof of church or minster. - -Mr. Dowlas preached from the Canticles, applying the apostrophe to the -Shulamite to such as had wandered from the truth. The audience -listened with silent and deep attention, but without any of the -ejaculation and amens with which Mr. Wallowby's dissenting -fellow-countrymen relieve and stimulate their fervour. Some aged -grandmother would occasionally shake her head in concurrence with the -minister's words, but that was all. - -At the beginning of the sermon a slight rustling attracted Joseph -Smiley's attention. He looked up and beheld Tibbie Tirpie taking her -seat on the outskirts of the crowd. She was accompanied by a young -woman who leant on her arm and appeared delicate and pale till she -caught sight of Joseph, when her cheeks became suffused with crimson, -and she bent down her head. A look of annoyance came into his sharp, -squirrel-like eyes, but he passed his hand across his mouth, which -appeared to act like the wet sponge over a much be-written slate, and -left it blank and sober as before. - -There were four babies to be baptized at the conclusion of the sermon, -and during the singing of a hymn, Joseph, as master of the ceremonies, -proceeded to the clump of hazel bushes and thence ushered three well -pleased mothers, each with her latest born held proudly in her arms. -As struts the brood hen before her chippering train, calling the -universe to witness the last new life added to the mighty sum by her -praiseworthy exertions, so sailed these worthy women behind the -beadle, and took their places with rustle and importance in front of -the congregation. The husband of each came diffidently behind, and -stood in front of his proprietress, tall, awkward, and a little -shame-faced before all the people, the length of leg and arm appearing -sadly in its owner's way, and the hands especially difficult to -dispose of. Behind the matrons came Mary Brown, carrying the little -waif rescued by her brother from the sea, Roderick himself bringing up -the rear. Their appearance created a sensation, and a hum of enquiry -ran through the congregation, for many were as yet ignorant of the -addition to the minister's family. Mary gave her own name to the -little one, and Roderick presented it for baptism as the several sires -presented theirs, vowing to bring it up in the nurture and admonition -of the Lord. - -Mr. Dowlas concluded the service, and while the younger and the -English-speaking part of the congregation rose to depart, the older -members drew more closely together before the tent, and Roderick at -once commenced the afternoon service in Gaelic for their behoof. Many -of them having come long distances, it was best that the two services -should follow each other without interval, that they might start the -earlier on their return home. In reverent haste the retiring -worshippers withdrew from the ground, that they might not disturb the -Gaelic congregation, and in ten minutes every one of them was out of -sight. Joseph's duties were now over till the breaking up of the -meeting, and as he did not understand Gaelic he withdrew to a mossy -bank hard by, where birch trees warded off the afternoon sun, and -stretched himself at length to enjoy a little repose. He had drawn -from the crown of his tall black hat a bannock and a hunch of -skim-milk cheese wrapped in a turkey red cotton handkerchief which he -spread out on his knees, and proceeded to refresh himself. While he -was still so engaged there approached him from the thicket in his rear -Tibbie Tirpie. - -'I wuss ye gude day! Joseph Smiley.' - -Joseph snorted with impatience, and the squirrel-like gleam came into -his eyes, but he merely answered-- - -'Gude day to ye! Tibbie,' sweeping together the scattered fragments of -his repast, and causing them all to disappear in one comprehensive -gulp. Then he wiped his mouth with the red cloth, replaced it in the -hat, and resumed his wonted look of solemn composure. - -'A weel, Tibbie! an' it's a graund discourse we hae heard this day; -an' I houp it'll do ye gude. He's a godly man, Mester Dowlas, an' he's -gaen hame wi' Mistress Sangster til a verra gude denner I mak nae -doubt. But you an' me has haen a feast of fat things o' his -providence. Marrow an' fatness truly, tho' it's juist a when bannocks -we may hae to stay the flesh withal an' aiblins just a drappie o' -something to wash a' down. Will ye taste, hinnie?' Thereupon he arose -and retreated some steps to where the tree stems would conceal him -from any wandering eye among the congregation, and drew forth from his -bosom a flat bottle, which he applied to his lips, throwing back his -head the while. After a prolonged gulp he paused for breath, and -passed the bottle to his friend with one hand, while with the back of -the other he wiped his lips. - -'Pruive all things! Eppie. Try the speerits, an' I'm thinkin' ye'll -find them not that bad.' - -Eppie tasted and sipped, and tasted again, very well pleased, nodded, -and returned the bottle, which was forthwith emptied where the bulk of -its contents had already been poured. - -'Hech! but my eyes are enlichtened like Jonathan's, an' noo let's -crack about the preachin'.' - -'Joseph! I hae bed a wee, as ye said. What is't a' comin' til?' - -'Bed sin yest're'en! No muckle bidin' there I ween! But let's lay -worldly business by, this holy Sawbith day, an' think o' wir -sauls!--our puir perishin' sauls!' - -`An' what'll come o' your saul? Joseph Smiley, an' you sinnin' wi' the -high haund an' wrangin' my puir lass Tibbie. Saw na ye hoo she was -e'en ower blate to forgather wi' the neighbours, an' gaed creepin' -hame afore the kirk wad skell?' - -'The mair fule she! There's naething kenned again her. What maks her -blate?' - -'It's no for you to speer! Them 'at pet the cat e'y kirn, can best -fesh't out. Ye ken what's wrang, an' ye beut to mak it richt!' - -'Hech! Tibbie, ye're troubled an' carefu' about mony things. But _wan_ -thing is needfu', as the Scriptur says, an' this is the Sawbith day, -an' I'se speak o' naething else but that same. Think o' yer saul! -Tibbie, yer sinfu' saul!' - -'Speak o' yer ain sins, ye rascal! an' let mine be. Yer saul's black -wi' them, an' it's time ye was mendin'.' - -'Na, na, Tibbie! that wad be _works!_ an' they're filthy rags. I'm a' -for grace!' - -'For grace? ye villain! Grace Grimmond belike, gin' a' folk says be -true. An' what's to come o' Tibbie? But ye'se never wad wi' Grace -onybody, sae lang as Tibbie's to the fore! Tak my word for't.' - -'Ye tak me up wrang, neighbour, it's the kingdom o' heaven I'm after, -whaur they neither marry nor are given in marriage. An' I houp ye'll -win there yet! It's no o' women, puir silly earthen vessels I'm -speakin' or wull speak this holy day.' - -'But ye'll hae to speak o' them! Ay, an' speak plenn--or I'se doon t'ey -minister an' hae ye up afore the Kirk-Session the maament the kirk -skells. I'm for nae mair o' yer parryin' I'se tell ye--ye thocht ye -had puir Tibbie a' by her lane, yon fore nicht, doon i' the loanin', -whan ye ca'd God to witness ye took her for yer lawfu' wife, an' juist -wanted it keepit quiet till the bawbees was gathered for the -plennissin'. But ye didna keek ahint the dike, an' ye kenna wha was -hearkenin'!' - -Joseph's countenance fell, his eyes opened wider, and strove to read -in the other's face whether the witness suggested was a reality or a -mere _ruse_ to overawe him. He took the red handkerchief from his hat, -and mopped his brow as a partial screen for his features, and finding -evasion no longer possible, concluded to mitigate his opponent's -excitement, and man[oe]uvre for time. - -'Ye needna thrape that gate, Mistress Tirpie, gin Tibbie wad hae me; I -kenna the lass in a' Glen Effick I'd sooner wad wi', but what ye said -ey noo about the bawbees an' the plennissin' hauds true yet. I canna -tak the lassie hame an' no a bed for her to lie down on, an' what for -wad ye be raisin' a din an' a clash? It's a filthy fowl 'at files its -ain nest. An' it's yer ain dochter the folk wad lichtly, gin ye didna -haud yer tongue. - -'But ye can bide wi' me, Joseph, till yer gear's gathered; I'se be -blythe to hae ye.' - -Na, na, Luckie! Ilka pat till its ain cleek! we maun hae our ain -fire-side.' - -'An' it's little fireside me an' Tibbie's like tae hae gin ye haud -back muckle langer! I hae na claes eneugh to keep her warm, an' she -hasna strength to tak' wark, an' hoo can she get her strength on -sowans an' kirn-milk? An' that's a' I hae to gie her. Ye maun keep yer -wife, Joseph, e'en gin ye dinna bide wi' her.' - -'An' hoo's a man to gather the bawbees, gin he's payin' them awa -faster nor they come?' - -'_Ye_ ken that, Joseph; an' I'm thinkin' it's a denty pose ye hae -hidden awa in some auld hugger, an' hae na the heart to spend. We a' -ken ye for a hard thrifty body 'at winna spend yer ain, gin ye can -finger ither folk's.' - -Ye're hard on me, Luckie, but I'se do what I can. I hae nae siller in -my pouch the day but a bawbee for the plate, seein' it's Sawbith, but -I'll tell ye what I wull do, speak to the minister. An' he's the gude -man wi' the free haund and the saft heid. Gin ye getna a' ye need out -o' _him_, yer tongue winna wag sae souple, as I hae fand it can this -hour back.' - -And here, to avoid rejoinder he ran down the slope and took his place -demurely on a stool by the tent to await the conclusion of the -exercises. - - - - - CHAPTER IX. - - _THE BABY_. - - -The moorland overhanging the scene of the 'exercises' was always -dotted over at their conclusion, with straggling companies of the -worshippers returning home. At each branching of paths they would -separate and change again to break up and separate further at fresh -junctions, till at length the whole assemblage had dissipated itself -over the extensive tract and disappeared. - -The air freshened by a breeze was so warm and bright that it tempted -to linger in friendly gossip, especially those whose week spent in -some remote nook among the hills brought never a stranger to their -door or a scrap of news. Some of the villagers, too, chose the moor as -a roundabout way home, where they would meet more acquaintances than -on the hot and dusty road, and while obtaining the air and exercise, -avoid the sinfulness or disrepute of taking a walk upon the Sabbath -day. Those from a distance had brought refreshments, and were now -seated in the neighbourhood of some clear spring discussing their -simple meal of scones and cheese and hard boiled eggs. - -Seated in such a group were old Angus Kilgour, crofter, and Stephen -Boague, shepherd, with their respective wives and families. Boague's -offspring were three tow headed children who played noisily with a -couple of dogs till their father interfered and bade them 'mind it was -the Sabbath-day,' and called the dogs away. The young Kilgours were -older, a big lad who carried a basket for his mother, a couple of -girls competing, it seemed, for the favourable notice of a youth -between them, a not unwilling captive to their charms, but still -uncertain to which he should surrender, and another daughter whose -tardy arrival was delaying the family repast. - -'What hae ye in yon creel? Mistress,' cried Kilgour to his wife. 'We -can bide nae langer for Meizie, she'll be danderin' alang wi' some -laad nae doubt and niver thinkin' o' hiz. Here wi' yer creel, Johnnie! -an' gie's a bannack a' round. I'm rael hungry. An' syne we'll hae a -pipe, Stephen Boague, you an' me, an' here comes Peter Malloch, he's a -graund chield for a crack. Hech! Peter Malloch, sit down, ye'll eat a -bit, an' hae ye settled yet about pettin' up the new kirk?' - -'A weel I'm thinkin' we'll hae't settled braw an' sure noo. We'se get -a piece off Widdie Forester's kale-yard be like, gin we can raise the -siller. We'll hae to mak an effort to do that, as Mester Dowlas says, -an' it'll be a kittle job, but pet a stiff shouther till a stey brae, -as the folk says. We maun ca' a meetin' I'm thinkin', an' hae him to -speak, he's a graund man to crack the bawbees out o' folk's pouches.' - -'Ou ay!' ejaculated Stephen, 'He's a gude man, but unco worldly! He's -aye cryin' about the pennies an' the sustentation fund. Nae fear o' -_him_ gaun a warfare at his ain charges!' - -'An' belike ye'd cry about the pennies yersel', Stephen Boague, gin -ye'd naething else to lippin til.' - -'Weel, that was aye what I liket best about the auld Kirk! A' thing -was proveedet, "without money an' without price," an' that's Scripter. -Juist the sincere milk of the word an' naething to pay for't!' - -'I'd think shame o' mysel', Stephen Boague,' broke in his wife, 'to -speak like that! An' ca' ye yon the word at's preached up by at -Kilrundle? A curran Erastian havers! Settin' up the law o' the land -ower the word o' God, an' the will o' the Coort o' Session abune the -General Assembly o' the Kirk! My certie! I'se no ca' yon the milk o' -the word. It's grown sooer wi' ill keepin'! A wersh savourless gospel, -for puir starved sauls, hungerin' for the truith an' gettin' naething -but a clash o' cauld parritch!' - -A weel! gude wife, _ye_ maun hae yer say, but gin ye had to fin' the -pennies ye'd maybe no be sae glib! an' but twa e'y pouch to buy the -sneeshin'.' - -'Haud yer tongue, Stephen! an' fill yer pipe,' said the hospitable -Angus, 'It's no expecket that the puir man's to pay the same as the -weel-aff folk, out o' their abundance.' - -'An' wha's the man to say that Stephen Boague did na pay his way the -best? I'd like to ken. Na, na! It's juist anither patch on the auld -breeks, an' weel the gude wife kens whaur to clap it on! an' the -siller's saved. But a man beut to hae his grum'le.' - -'An' wasna yon a fine preachin' the day?' asked Peter Malloch, who -being a deacon, felt bound to lead the conversation into an improving -groove, especially for the good of the young, and Meizie had now -joined the circle followed by William the footman at Inchbracken, -absent on leave to visit his sick mother. - -'A grand sermon!' said Mr. Kilgour, 'an' was na he bonny about the -Shulamite? Tho' I'm free, to say I kenna verra weel wha she was. But -I'm misdoubtin' but she was some thochtless young hempie 'at kenned -na' weel what she was after--An' hoo' he cried til her to return!' - -'That was the wanderin' sauls o' sinfu' folk,' said Peter clearing his -voice for an extended exposition, but he got no farther, for William -here brought the pious abstract down to the concrete and personal by -breaking in. - -'An' saw na ye hoo young Tibbie Tirpie, sittin' awa back wi' the -hindmost took to the greetin', an' down wi' her head, an' up wi' her -neepkin, like's a' the minister was sayin' was for her.' - -'Hech laddie!' said Mrs. Kilgour, 'an' what for no? we hae a' wandered -frae the truith. The word was powerfu', an' wha kens but it may hae -reached her heart. An' micht it no hae reached yer ain as weel, -William?' - -'An' that's true! Mistress Kilgour, an' nae doubt but it wull belive -whan the Lord sees fit. But it was yersel' was speakin' about the -Shulamite an' winderin' gin she micht na hae been some thochtless -hempie, juist mentioned ye ken for our edification--an' it kind o' -looket like's she had taen 't a' to heart. Wha kens?' - -'Whish man! Think shame! Ye maunna be lichtlyin' a lass's repute for -naething. Naething but greetin' e'y kirk. An' that diz her credit. It -wad be weel, lad, gin yer ain flinty heart wad melt as easy.' - -'Belike it wad, Mistress Boague, but I'm jalousin''-- - -Here Meizie interposed to save her young man from the threatening -onslaught of the matrons by a change of subject. 'Yon's a braw muckle -bairn o' Jean Cameron's, an' was na Sandie the proud man whan he held -it up to the minister?' - -'A fine bairn! an' sae war the ither twa. An' didna the minister lay -the vows tichtly on the fathers. Gin they stick til a' they hae -promised this day, the weins will get a godly upbringin'. An' didna -our ain minister look solemn whan he held up yon bonny wee thing, to -be baptised. An' it neither grat nor skirled whan the water fall on -its bit face, 'ats no the size o' a saxpence.' - -'I'm wae it didna skirl,' said Mrs. Kilgour. It's aye a gude sign. My -gude-mither wad aye be sayin' it was a sign the Deil was losin' its -hauld o' the bairn.' - -'Ye've no warrant in Scriptur for that, Mistress,' said Peter. 'It's a -superstitious notion, an' I'm misdoubtin' but it's a rag o' the whoor -o' Babylon.' - -'A weel! I kenna mysel, but mine skirled weel. I had to rin out wi' -Meisie there, or she'd hae deaved the hale kirk wi' her screighin'. -An' see til her noo! for a braw sonsey lass. The pruif o' the puddin's -the preein' o' 't. Babylon or no!' - -'An' wha's the Minister's wein ca'd after?' - -'On Miss Mary be sure! She carried her in.' - -'An' wha's acht it? That's what I want to ken, an' that's what the -minister disna ken himsel',' said Mrs. Boague. 'I had a' about it frae -Luckie Howden, an' she's nane sae weel pleased that Eppie Ness has -gotten the tent o' 't, by her. An' her keppin' the minister's teapat -in her corner cupboard. They micht hae leuten her turn a penny on the -bairn. But ye see they're sleepin' down by at Eppie's, an' sae she's -gotten Miss Mary's lug, an' says what she likes intil't. But its juist -the way o' the warld. The puir maun aye to the wa'. But as I was -sayin' the minister gaed ower til Mary yon ae dark nicht, an' the -mornin after he brocht hame this bit bairnie in his arms. An' he -thinks the Lord gied it til him. He fand it lyin' on the sands at -Effick Mouth, a' happit up in the finest o' claes, an' he thinks it -maun be a leddy's bairn washed ashore by the sea, when some big ship -an' a' body intil't was lost in the storm. It's a queer tale, an it's -rael gude o' thae twa young folk to tak up wi' the puir wee stray, an -be at a' chairges.' - -'It's a verra queer tale,' said Peter Malloch. - -'A verra queer tale, nae doubt,' repeated William. 'The gentles was -crackin' ower't ae fore nicht, ower their denner up by at Inchbracken, -an' a curious story they made out o't, but ye hae na juist the hing -o't as _they_ had it, Mistress Boague. Odd sak! my heart fairly lap i' -my mouth to hear them, an' I a' but cowpet the dish wi' the wine sass -on my Leddy's saitin gown. Gin it hadna been for the look Mester Smith -the butler gied me, I'd hae let it fa', that's sure, an' syne I micht -hae hanged mysel', for it's ne'er inside the dinin'-room door I'd hae -been leuten again. The General wad hae ordered me out himsel'. He'll -stand nae flousterin' frae the attendance I'se tell ye.' - -'But ye hae na telled us what the gentles said yet, William. Belike ye -war that frichtet ye hae forgotten't a'.' - -'I'se no forget it in a hurry. But I canna sae weel rehearse't, atween -what they said, an' what they garred a body think, tho' aiblins they -mayna hae puiten their tongue til't. For it's no a thing a body daur -say afore her leddyship. But Mistress Briggs, my leddy's woman kens a' -about it, an' it was her telled Miss Finlayson. She kens what's been -ado wi' Tibbie Tirpie this lang while back. An' she was comin' ower -frae Inverlyon e'y mail coach that dark nicht the minister gaed for -the bairn, an' wha suld the driver put in aside her but Tibbie Tirpie? -He said it was a sair nicht for a lassie to travel her lane across the -muir, sae he juist in wi' her an' stieket the door. An' deil a word -she spak to Mistress Briggs the hale road, juist pu'd the plaid ower -her face an' grat an' sabbet a' the time. Mistress Briggs, ye see, is -verra genteel an' parteeklar, an' was for complainin', about folk -bein' puiten in aside her, an' sae she telled Miss Finlayson whan she -cam hame, an' the day, ye see, it cam a' back on me, when I seen -Tibbie greetin' an' carryin' on e'y kirk. An' whan she gaed slinkin' -hame afore the weins were brocht into baptise, thinks I to mysel', -aiblins Miss Finlayson's no that far wrang!' - -'I see na muckle in yer story, William,' said Angus, 'but I think the -gentles micht hae better to do, nor prankin' wi' the gude name o' a -puir lass 'at ne'er wranged them. An' ye're ill-aff for a job yersel' -to be carryin' their clashes about the country side.' - -'But ye hae na heard me out yet. It was that same dark nicht the -minister gaed ower til Inverlyon. An' next mornin' he brings hame the -bairn. An' wha suld he meet on the brae-head, think ye, but Captain -Drysdale, (the auld captain). An' the captain speers "wha's acht the -bairn," an' the minister he durstna tell, an' he looket terrible -blate. An' the captain he leugh, an' the minister he grew mad, an' the -captain he says--says he, "keep up yer heart," or, "dinna be ower -down-cast, it's nae great matter, gin it be a bairn--it's a verra sma' -ane"--an' that's the captain's ain words.' - -'Preserve us a'!' ejaculated Mrs. Boague, 'Diz the sin grow heavier -wi' the wecht o' the bairn? Fau'se doctrine I'se wager! But that comes -o' sittin' under a moderate minister! There's saul's bluid lyin' at -the door o' that prophet o' Baaul, up by at Kilrundle.' - -'But wha wad hae thocht the like o' Roderick Brown?' said Angus, 'an' -I maun hae pruif or I can tak it in. I hae kenned him man an' laddie -sin afore he kenned himsel', an' I kenned auld Doctor Brown weel,--an' -a gude man he was--an' I canna thole to think he cud gang sae far -astray.' - -'It hings thegither tho',' said Peter Malloch, 'an' I'm sair -misdoubtin' but things are na a' thegither as they suld be. An' that -minds me, as I was gaun til Inverlyon no lang syne, we lichted frae -the coach gaun doon the brae, an' wha suld be comin' up but Mester -Brown. It maun hae been that verra day, for he had a bundle in's arms, -an' says my neighbour to me, laughin'-like, it micht be a bairn, that -i' the minister's arms. An' as for him he wadna forgather, like he may -hae been blate, but juist gaed by wi' hardly the time o' day to throw -til a dug. An' me the Convener o' the Deacons' Coort! I ance thocht -him a gude young man, but he's verra pridefu'. An' he winna be guidet -by them 'ats aulder an' mair experienced nor himsel'. An' pride ye ken -comes afore destruction, an' a hauchty speerit afore a fa'. So says -scripter. Pride's deadly sin, ye ken, an' wan sin brings on anither. -I'm sair misdoubtin' but there may be some fundation. But it's -terrible to think on. A minister o' the Free Protestin' Kirk o' -Scotland, and _our_ minister--hiz 'at's corned out o' Egyp', leavin' -kirk and steeple an' a' ahint us, intil the leeteral wilderness, wi' -naething but a bit umbrelly belike to keep aff the ren an' the snaw. -Hiz wha's praise is in all the churches, as Mester Dowlas tells us, -for our persecuitions--to think _our_ minister suld gae wrang! My -certie, we's cast out the unclean thing frae amang us, to perish like -anither Aachan without the camp!' - -'An' him sae young! an' sae gude to the puir folk!' said Mrs. Kilgour. -'I'se no believe the like o' him or ony ither minister, till it's -pruived on him.' - -'Ministers are but men, woman,' sighed Mrs. Boague, 'an' the flesh is -weak. I'm misdoubtin' but it's an ower true tale.' - -The subject of this discussion concluded his Gaelic sermon in due -course, all unconscious of the havoc that was being made of his -reputation. Ere he left the tent he was addressed by the assiduous -Joseph, who described to him the case of Widow Tirpie, reduced to sad -straits and threatened with destitution as the consequence of the long -and severe illness of her daughter. Like others whose charity takes -the form of urging their neighbours to give, Joseph used his very best -skill to rouse his master's sympathy, and grew both picturesque and -pathetic in describing these paragons of honest independence and -virtuous poverty;--the empty meal girnel, the daughter weakened by -sickness, perhaps sinking into a decline and unable to work, and the -mother depriving herself of such necessary food as still remained to -nourish her child, and stave off a little longer the inevitable day -when they must come on the parish. The eloquence was so far useless, -in that Roderick would in any case have done what he could for any one -in want, but he was surprised as well as rejoiced to have discerned at -last so fervid a charity in one he had hitherto regarded as cold and -worldly. He made no doubt that Joseph's deeds had been guided by the -same warm sympathy as his words, and while promising to see the widow -that evening or the next day, he made him a present to reimburse him -for any imprudent outlay into which his feelings might have led him. -Joseph accepted it, and when, later in the evening he added it to the -'pose' which awaited his next journey to Inverlyon and the Savings -Bank, he chuckled over the good young man's simplicity and his own -shrewdness. - -When Roderick arrived at home he found Mary at liberty at last. Peter -Sangster and Mr. Wallowby had both accompanied her from church with -Eppie Ness and the baby, and had even lingered on for some time, -despite the manifest displeasure of Mrs. Sangster, as she drove away -with Sophia and Mr. Dowlas; but the young men had set themselves to -watch each other, and see each that the other made no advance in -Mary's favour to his own detriment. Neither would withdraw and leave -the other in possession of the field--rivalry having made both fancy -themselves more interested than either would have been but for the -competition. - -Peter believed he had a prior claim owing to his previous -acquaintance, which he had meant to strengthen during his present -visit to the North, though perhaps on a more condescending footing -than he saw he need now attempt. He had thought to maintain an -intimacy without committing himself, and eventually, in the uncertain -future, if it suited, to come forward with his proposal, and be -accepted of course. Like a timid bather standing breast-high in the -water, he found himself pushed from his shelf of standing ground into -deep water, where he must strike out at once or go under. He was -aggrieved that his guest should so deliberately and immediately set -himself to cut him out, and he thought, too, that his sister was being -slighted most ungraciously. - -As for Mr. Wallowby, he thought nothing about it. He was rich and -good-looking, or at least his whiskers were cut according to the most -approved pattern of the time, and he was accustomed to have ladies -make themselves agreeable to him. He speedily decided that Sophia was -rather heavy, and he imagined from the first moment he saw her, that -Mary would be more amusing, and therefore strove to improve the -acquaintance. It is probable that would have been all but for Peter's -airs of proprietorship in the girl and his too obvious endeavours to -make him (Wallowby) interest himself in the young lady of the house as -her due. This was more than man or lady-killer could stand, and the -result was keen rivalry and strained diplomatic relations, which did -not promise increased cordiality for the morrow, when they were to -shoot in each other's company. - -As for Mary, being indifferent to both, she probably preferred taking -them together. Each kept the other on his mettle, which prevented -dulness, and she could not but be amused with the cross looks she -detected now and then passing between them. Still one may have too -much of anything, and she was not sorry when a clatter of plates and -dishes in Eppie's part of the house was accepted by the visitors as a -warning to depart. - -Roderick came in very shortly after. Mary met him with slippers and -dressing-gown, and drew forward his father's old leather chair from -its corner, to receive his weary frame, and recruit his strength for -the Bible-class and other activities still to be gone through. She -then brought the baby, and seated herself with it in a low chair near -him. - -'Did you ever see such lovely eyes, Roderick?' - -Of course Roderick never had. - -'Or such a dainty little mouth?' - -Again such a mouth was never seen before, nor such intelligence, nor -such a dear divine little image ever before. It was the first -revelation of babyhood that had appeared in their lives, and they -worshipped and wondered and reverently served, as every good soul -must, before the mystery of a dawning spirit. - -'It is strange,' said Roderick, after a while, 'that no enquiry should -have come from any one about this little Mary of ours. I shall -certainly not be sorry if no one comes to claim her. She is more than -welcome to all that I can give her; but those she belongs to can have -no idea what a precious little darling she is, or they would have -reclaimed her ere now. My letter was printed conspicuously enough in -the _Witness_, but it has led to nothing, not one enquiry. You will -have noticed in the paper that Lord Briarhill and Mrs. Steele went to -Inverlyon and identified a daughter-in-law, the wife of their son, -Major Steele in India, in one of the bodies washed ashore from the -wreck of the 'Maid of Cashmere,' which must be the ship I saw perish -that fearful night. To tell you the truth I have been expecting a -letter from his Lordship ever since, claiming the baby; for the -drowned lady I saw, and who I make no doubt was baby's mother, was -just what one might suppose Major Steele's wife to be like. When you -write to our uncle you might mention the circumstance, and also ask -him if there is any other step I should take to find relations for the -little one. I am sure I had better not write him myself, till he cools -down upon the church question, and that will take years, I fear. So -pray write, dear, during the week.' - -News was not diffused so freely five and thirty years ago as it is -now. The mails, excepting between Edinburgh and Glasgow, were still -carried by mail coaches, but people having never known anything -better, were quite satisfied, nay proud of the free intercommunication -between different parts of the kingdom, and newspapers were issued -only once or twice a week. Further, Roderick's newspaper was one -addressed to an ecclesiastical rather than a commercial or sea-faring -public, and therefore his communication about the child was less -likely to be noticed than it would have been in some other journal. -However, in this instance a different mode of advertising would have -mattered little. Lord Briarhill was not aware that a child accompanied -his daughter-in-law, and it was not till many weeks later, that he -learned from a letter received by a mail long overdue that a baby had -been born a fortnight before she sailed, and had been carried with -her. By that time the circumstance of a child having been picked up -alive, had quite escaped his lordship's memory, if indeed he had ever -been informed of it. Mrs. Major Steele, too, belonged to a family in -the Indian Civil Service, she had been born in India herself, and -there her father and near relatives resided, so that, excepting the -old judge, there was no one in Scotland interested in the matter. - -Mary's letter was not written, owing to an invitation from Mrs. -Sangster to spend the week at Auchlippie, and help to entertain the -visitors. The conversation was forgotten by brother and sister alike, -and affairs drifted on in their own way. - - - - - CHAPTER X. - - _TIBBIE_. - - -On rainy evenings Roderick had to accommodate his Bible-class in his -study. The books and pamphlets piled on the floor were removed, and -stools and chairs brought in from all the neighbouring cottages. The -attendance was large, the room but small, and the window could not be -opened without admitting the rain. The sole ventilation therefore was -by the chimney, for Roderick's chest was delicate and could not endure -open doors or draughts. The breaths of the people and the steam from -their plaids and umbrellas made an atmosphere almost too dense to -breathe, but no one stayed away on account of that. Discomfort in fact -was the chosen salt and relish of popular piety in those days. The old -stories of the covenant and the persecutions had been brought out -afresh after lying hid for a century under the dust of time and -'moderatism,' so called, which perhaps means only the new ideas -begotten of newer circumstances in advancing civilization. These tales -told in modern language and addressed to the people from hundreds of -pulpits and platforms, and scattered by the thousand in illustrated -tracts and broad sheets over the country, roused the best instincts of -the people into a sort of fanaticism; common sense appeared sinful -latitudinarianism, and there seemed a very hunger for austerity and -persecution in a small way, which raised an uncomfortable church-going -into a meritorious claim on divine favour. Like other artificial -revivals of obsolete feeling with their inevitable unreality and -exaggeration--for the one begets the other, seeing that each -individual, knowing his own earnestness to be below the standard, -compensates by intensity of expression for what is lacking in -depth--all that has now passed away. No better cushioned pews -now-a-days invite to repose in the green pastures of the word, than -those which the Free Church supplies, and the erewhile battle cry of -'Christ's Crown and Covenant' has moderated down into a demand for -Disestablishment. - -These cottage services were far more exhausting to their conductor -than the regular preaching, and after struggling through them under -the oppression of heat and bad air, he found when his apartment was -left to him, that it had become uninhabitable for the rest of the -evening. Whenever, therefore, the weather at all permitted, he -conducted his Bible-class in the open air. - -Down by the Effick side was a meadow where the villagers washed and -dried their clothes, and their cattle browsed. The grass was short and -thick, and the stream slid by with a low soft lapping among the -stones. An aged beech tree formed a landmark, and there on summer -evenings the minister was wont to assemble his class. The faint -evening breezes nestled drowsily among the leaves overhead, and the -glassy surface of the stream shone in the yellow radiance of the -evening light. No scene could be more peaceful and still, or lent -itself better to the earnest exhortations of the teacher, and the -unflagging attention of his auditors, who had grown to comprise the -whole inhabitants of the village, old people and children as well as -the youths and maidens for whom the meeting was designed. 'Free Church -Principles,' or the superiority of the church to the interference of -civil authority, were the stated subjects of consideration, but this -pious and indefatigable teacher would not let slip the opportunity of -pressing all other branches of religious truth, as occasion offered, -in a way more familiar and impressive, as his people thought, than -even the regular services of the church. - -It was dark ere all was over, and after singing a hymn the meeting -dispersed. Then Roderick remembered the errand of mercy with which he -had proposed to himself to conclude his day, and set out at once for -Widow Tirpie's cottage, which was about a mile from the village. -Reaching it, he found the daughter on the threshold, gazing motionless -towards the western sky, where the last faint gleams of evening still -struggled with the coming night. A girl of about twenty, but looking -older, worn with care or illness, but with a face superior to her -station, she sat like an image of regret, pale-cheeked and thin, with -her great dark eyes looking out into the ebbing twilight. She rose on -Roderick's approach and followed him inside. - -There knelt the mother crouching on the hearth, where with distended -cheeks she was endeavouring to blow two peats into a blaze, that she -might boil her pot and prepare their evening meal. - -Tibbie's husband had been a gamekeeper on the Inchbracken property, -her daughter had been employed there as seamstress, and she herself -was in some sort a client of the great house. Therefore it was a point -of loyalty or policy with her to keep aloof from the Free Church, and -occasionally to attend at Kilrundle, but that was not very often, the -church being three miles off, and she herself, as she admitted, 'no -kirk greedy.' Roderick had not therefore considered her a member of -his flock, and knew little of herself or her daughter or their -circumstances. She was poor, but not more so than her neighbours, or -much more so now than she had always been, and she had no claim to be -described as she had been by Joseph Smiley either in the matter of her -poverty or her high principle. She had expected a visit from the -minister, and although she had no intention of devolving on him the -burden of her support, which she destined for his beadle's shoulders, -still she was not averse to profiting by his bounty, and had indeed -arranged her little scene so as to justify any touching appeal Joseph -might have made on her behalf. She had watched Joseph from the thicket -after they parted, and observed his closeting with the minister at the -close of the service, and knowing Roderick's eager charity, she had -thought it not improbable he might visit her that very evening, and -accordingly had arranged the tableau of a scanty supper as more -effective than anything she could say; besides that, being honest -after her fashion and shrewd, she was unwilling to lie unnecessarily. - -Tibbie had risen and followed the minister into the house, looking -deprecatingly at her mother over his shoulder. She revolted at the -idea of charity-getting, and dreaded the references to her own -affairs, which her mother might be led into. - -'Here Tibbie!' said the elder woman, 'tak' the stoup an' fesh some -water frae the spring on the muir, the minister micht be for a drink; -ye hae nae sic water down by in the Glen, sir, sae cauld an' sae -caller!' - -Tibbie took the stoup, well pleased to get away from whatever -conversation might follow. - -'I hear you are not very well off, Mrs. Tirpie,' said Roderick, 'and I -have come to see if I can give you any help.' - -'A' weel, sir! It's thankin' ye kindly a' the same, but I winna -complain. Ye can see for yersel'--Some folk can mak oot to live whaur -ithers wad starve. But I'm no beggin'.' - -'I never heard that you had got relief from the parish, and I know -that you have got nothing from us. You know we have a fund, though not -a large one, for our poor brethren, and I think it is often quite as -usefully employed when we look about for those who are bearing their -lot in silence, as when we give to those who claim our help.' - -'I dinna belang to yer kirk, sir, an' I hae nae claim on ye ava'; tho' -I canna but say it's whiles gye an' hard for a puir body to gar the -twa ends meet. What wi' sickness, an' a' things sae dear, it's a sair -fecht for puir folk, whiles, to keep saul an' body thegither. But we -maun thole. Them 'at sends a' things kens what's for our gude.' And so -on. A spirit of fine sturdy independence, uncomplaining poverty, and -patient trust in Providence, moderately expressed, furnished out a -harangue which refreshed the soul of the worthy preacher. If tares -must inevitably be found among the standing corn, it is all the more -refreshing to the disappointed husbandman to see the good seed -springing up outside his enclosure, and Tibbie Tirpie bore the -reputation of being a cold and worldly person with the fervid -professors among whom he laboured. He felt himself privileged in being -allowed to minister assistance to so much modest worth, and returned -home refreshed in spirit. - -When he left the cottage the night had closed in, with only the -glimmering stars to light him on his way. He walked slowly homewards, -musing as he went on the trials and hardships of the poor, and the -pious fortitude and noble courage with which they so often bear them. -He fell into a reverie, and did not perceive that two men coming down -behind him had overtaken and passed him. It was quite otherwise with -them. Like the owls and other creatures which fly by night, their -faculties were all awake. - -'Preserve us a! Saw ye e'er the like? Slinkin' hame e'y dark, wi' his -head atween 's feet, like a dug scaddet wi' puddin' brue. He ne'er -turned round e'en whan we gaed by, like's he thocht shame to meet the -glint o' honest folk's e'en.' - -'What mean ye? Peter Malloch. Yon's the minister! or I'm sair mistaen, -stappin' cannily hame. He's been readin', belike, an' prayin wi' some -auld puir body 'at's ower frail to gang t'ey kirk. My certie! but he's -the faithfu' servant, 'at sees the folk hae their meat i' due season. -I wuss there were mair like him. It gars a body think shame o' their -ain puir fushionless godliness, to see the gude he's aye after. Ne'er -sparin' himsel', but juist spendin,' an' spent for the gude o' ither -folk. He'll hae his reward!' - -'Man, Tummas, ye're a rael Nathanael! It diz a body gude to hear til -ye whiles. Ye hae the charity 'at thinketh no evil, an' mony's the -time I'm juist winderin' hoo ye can carry on wi't. Ye do weel to think -nae ill, but hoo ye can look about ye, an' stick til't, passes me. I -dinna see either 'at we're ca'd on to let folk mak a fuil o's wi' -their sough o' godliness an them nae better than oorsels, but rather -waur, seein' what they set up for. I'm thinkin' they're juist maist -like whitet sepulchers ower the dead men's banes; an' naebody's ca'd -on to think weel o' sic like, ye ken.' - -'I see na what ye're drivin' at. But I'se lippen 'til our young -minister afore ony man I hae e'er clappit my eyen on!' - -'Trust not in princes nor men's sons,' as the Psalm says, 'an' the -ministers are kittle cattle to tackle wi'. Saw na ye whause house yon -was he cam out o', richt afore yer eyen?' - -'I ken Tibbie Tirpie brawly, an' it's her bides up yonder.' - -'An' what kind tak ye Tibbie to be? She's no a kirk member ava, I'm -thinkin'; a bonny ane for a minister to be sitten' aside a' Sabbath -forenicht!' - -'I ken naething against her; but gin she be worldly or waur, she has -mair need o' the minister's advice.' - -'An' there's that hizzie, her dochter! Ye'll be for makin' out the -minister was adveesin _her_ belike?' - -'An' what for no? Gin she be young an' fu' o' daffin' she'll a' the -mair need to be adveesed.' - -'Young an' fu' o' daffin'! Ye're for letting her down easy. There's -mair wrang nor that, I'm feared. Some folk say she's nae better nor -she suld be. But there's nae gude threapin' wi' you. Ye'se think nae -harm--ye'se tell me he was sympatheezin wi' her in her misfortun.' - -'Whisht man! Let the lassie's gude name be gin ye hae nae proof.' - -'But there maun be pruif some gate seein' it's true. The gentles hae -heard tell o't. An' what's mair, it's them 'at's sayin' up by at -Inchbracken 'at Mister Brown's at the fundation o' the hale mischief. -Sae noo ye ken a' about it, an ye'll own yersel it's gye an' like it, -to see him slinkin' up here after dark. An' ye'll mind hoo you an' me -saw him bringin' hame the bairn yon mornin' early, whan the roads war -that bad there wasna like to be ony body about, to see what he was -after. We a' ken hoo he gaed awa for the bairn the verra nicht 'at -Tibbie cam hame. Think o't! Tummas. Pet that an' that thegither, an' -syne ye'll may be hae mair charity, an' no be accuisin' me o' evil -speakin'. Charity thinketh no evil, sae what for suld ye be thinkin' I -wad tak awa a decent lass's gude name? But gin she be na decent, an' -hae nae richt til the gude name, I see nae wrang to say sae. Let the -skelpet wein skirl! What says Scripture? Is na the maugistrate for the -terror o' evil doers an' the praise o' them 'at do weel? An' be na I -wan in authority? The Convener o' the Deacons' Court? Tak tent, -Tummas, and dinna be impuitin' yer ain sinfu' thochts til ither folk, -an' them folk setten ower ye in the Lord! Speak not evil of dignities! -It's against a' Scripter--an' I may sae as weel, in a' luve and -faithfulness, seein I hae a kin' o' charge o' ye, an' may hae to gie -account, ye're juist a wee pridefu' whiles, an' ower set in yer ain -notions, for a humble private member o' the kirk. Think o't, Tummas, -an' lay't to heart!' - -Tummas was silenced, fairly overthrown and carried away by the torrent -of words, and every meek stirring of self-assertion completely -devoured out. He had meant to defend his pastor from what he thought -were improbable and poorly supported suspicions; but he was meek and -diffident, and accustomed to be over-borne by his arrogant companion, -so he held his peace, content to cherish unuttered the assurance that -there was some mistake, and to leave time to disabuse others of their -misconceptions. - - - - - CHAPTER XI. - - _AN EXCURSION_. - - -Mrs. Sangster decided that Mr. Wallowby ought to see something of the -country during his stay. An excursion was planned, and to introduce -some appearance of novelty into the party, the Rev. Roderick was -summoned to join the expedition. - -It was an early September morning when they started from Auchlippie. -Peter drove the phaeton, and his friend sat beside him on the box. -Inside were the ladies and the minister, in his quality of priest, or -one of the third sex, which, as though not either male or female, -possesses all the claims to deference of both, and owes the duties of -neither. Roderick sat in the back seat beside his hostess, while the -two young ladies faced him. The two gentlemen on the box looked back -from time to time with some remark which was gaily responded to by the -ladies, and Roderick occasionally joined in with a quiet jest. The -presence of Sophia filled his mind with happiness too deep for -merriment, and there she sat before him in full view. - -Sophia being a placid person abounding in the beauty of repose, had -worked her spell upon him more by looks, which he had interpreted into -sympathy, and what he chose to imagine the beauty of her virgin soul, -than by anything she had ever said. Looking in her eyes he had dreamt -of all that was loveliest and then fancied he saw it there. Another -Narcissus, he had gazed in their crystal depths, and, mistaking his -own reflection for the spirit of the flood, had fallen in love with -it. - -It made little matter to him that they were in the midst of a merry -company, he could sun himself in the presence that was so much of his -own creating all the same, and save that he was more silent than at -other times, no one could have observed any departure from his usual -bearing. Sophia was aware of his mute observance, and thought it 'very -nice,' she was used to it, and it required from her no irksome effort -in response, which, as her thinking part was neither imaginative nor -emotional, and somewhat sluggish besides, was comfortable. The -contrast between Roderick's quiet and the lively loquacity of Mr. -Wallowby, told all in favour of the former; for although Mary and her -mother with their greater readiness relieved her from the necessity of -reply, it was mortifying thus to realize her own slowness, and she -found the constant smiling and laughter over jests whose point she had -missed, fatiguing to her facial muscles, and at last she took refuge -in a private chat with Roderick as to whether he thought the day would -keep fine and such like weighty matters. - - -[Illustration: Loch Gorton and Inchbracken. Page 79.] - - -They drove across the upland moors and the ridge dividing Glen Effick -from the neighbouring valley of the Gorton, and down Gorton side to -where it spreads into the lake of the same name. At that point it is -crossed by a bridge, the road passing an old posting inn which looks -down the loch, and is backed by Craig Findochart, the highest mountain -of the district, and the goal of the day's expedition. - -Loch Gorton is a basin among the hills, deep and narrow at its upper -end, but broadening and shallowing towards its base. It fills the -mouth of a valley whose precipitous slopes crowd down upon the water -at its head, but draw back in lessening and ever-widening undulations -from the lower end. Near the outlet is the broad low island of -Inchbracken, connected with the mainland by a narrow neck of land. -Here in the old time stood the castle of the Drysdales, commanding the -isthmus, which they cut across and commanded by a drawbridge. The moat -is filled up now, and the square old keep, ivy-grown and ruinous, has -sunk into a mere picturesque feature in the shrubbery of the modern -mansion. - -Leaving their phaeton at the Bridge of Gorton Inn, the party secured a -guide, and proceeded to ascend the hill. A steep footpath led across -several enclosed fields, and brought them through a stretch of oak -copsewood to a track of open pasture, whence they could look down on -the lake spread out at their feet, while the great purple mountain -reared its steep shoulders above them, swelling in broad sweeps of -heath backward and upward to the beetling crags far up, thrusting -their jagged outlines into the sky, and shutting out the climber from -the distant summit. - -The belt of pasture past, climbing began in earnest. The shaggy -heather was knee deep in many places, and every here and there the -rocky knuckles of the mountain projected through the peaty soil. - -The party began to straggle. Mary, sound of wind and limb, -light-footed and active, was in front with the guide. Peter and -Wallowby toiled closely behind, the latter showing the first signs of -distress in shortening breath, and handkerchief applied occasionally -to his brow. Mrs. Sangster followed in steady mechanical fashion. Her -fifty odd summers had no doubt impaired the elasticity of her frame, -but had left behind a fund of tough endurance and sturdy will, which -did very well in its stead. Sophia and Roderick brought up the rear, -the coolest and calmest of the party. Her fine physique made the -exertion both light and pleasant, and her tranquil soul supplied a -wellspring of inward coolness, which even hill-climbing was unable to -overheat, while Roderick by her side among the sunshine and the -ever-widening view, walked on air, held forth at will, and dreamed -aloud in words overflowingly; while his placid companion smiled and -looked at him out of her beautiful eyes, listening, and sometimes -understanding what he said. The path became steeper after a while, and -Mrs. Sangster stopped to take breath, looking around the while for the -others. - -Mary and the young men were perched upon a rock high over her head, -and when she looked down Roderick and Sophia came calmly following -her. It seemed too much that Mary should monopolize not only Peter -(though that was well enough), but also the wealthy party from -Manchester, who had been sent by Providence, as she still thought, to -open a larger sphere of usefulness to her daughter; meaning really, if -self-delusion would ever let us speak plainly to ourselves, a carriage -and pair and a handsome establishment. The ice between the two had -been hard to break, what better way could there be to thaw it, than -the small difficulties and adventures of a mountain ramble? And here -the stupid girl was letting her opportunity escape, and trifling it -away with a young man whom she could beckon to her side any day, and -could always fall back upon if more ambitious aims did not succeed. A -more worldly or a more single-minded mamma would no doubt have spoken -plainly to her daughter, and so might have influenced that not very -perspicuous person more effectually, but Mrs. Sangster had the -misfortune to be looking two ways at once, or like the boatman in the -_Pilgrim's Progress_, she looked one way while she pulled the other. -She loved and appreciated the good things of the world, as thoroughly -as any one, but at the same time she was wont to say, and to really -think that she thought they were a snare, or dross, in comparison with -higher interests. She could not bring her tongue to frame such advice -to her daughter as would in any way derogate from true religion, or -the old-fashioned 'true, true love,' she had thought and sang of in -her own youth. She could only suggest and influence in a half-ashamed -sort of way. But she was disappointed and mortified that a -daughter of hers should be so wanting in common sense. After all the -advantages of her upbringing, how came it that she should fail of that -well-regulated mind, which, seeing both sides of a question, can both -say what is 'nice' in regard to the higher, and at the same time -follow the more profitable. The thing requires a little casuistry, but -it must be of the unspoken kind. It cannot be decently uttered, so -each must work it out alone in those secret chambers of the brain, -where not the prying eye of conscience even may intrude. Any one would -feel annoyed at a carefully and expensively-educated daughter throwing -herself away, and all the proud hopes that have been formed for her, -on a poor match; yet openly to preach the mercenary would be infamy. -So felt Mrs. Sangster, and she was greatly disturbed; for hers was -virtue of the uncomfortable, rather than of the heroic kind,--it could -not make her choose the better way, but it would reproach her if she -followed the worse. As for Sophia, her mother wronged her if she -suspected her of unwisely preferring the good to the profitable. She -was only dull. Money and all it could buy would, she felt, be -delightful to have, but she did not feel equal to winning it. Roderick -had looked and succumbed to her beauty, and it would be very pleasant -if Mr. Wallowby would do likewise; it would be grand,--and no personal -preference should prevent her making her fortune; but if Mr. Wallowby -was only to be captured by something she was to do, she resigned the -idea at once; she felt she could do nothing, and the very idea of -doing anything to win his regard made her ashamed, which was what -might have been expected. If people will bring up their girls to be -high-minded and good, they have no right to expect scheming and -meanness from them after they are grown. - -'Oh, Mr. Roderick,' said Mrs. Sangster, 'I fear I must ask you to take -pity on an old woman. This climbing is hot work, with the sun beating -down so on my old back. I can bear the weight of my shawl no longer. -If there was only a breeze! But the air seems stagnant, and my old -limbs are not what they once were.' - -'We have only to get a very little higher now to have wind enough,' -said Roderick, doubling the shawl on his arm. 'See Mr. Wallowby's -handkerchief up there how it blows about. If you will accept a little -assistance over this steep place, you will soon reach the cooler -level.' - -'Sophia!' continued the mother, 'I believe that guide will break a -bottle, or something, the way he swings the basket about. Pray bid him -take care or we shall have a dry luncheon to eat when we get to the -top of the hill,--there will be no water up there. It makes me quite -nervous to look at him.' - -So Sophia was despatched in advance while the older lady made a -leisurely survey of the prospect at her feet. - -'A beautiful place Inchbracken, with its woods spreading out beyond -the island and rolling away into the distance, and the steeple of -Kilrundle church rising from among them. Dives with his good things, -and Lazarus with his evil things! You must feel thankful to have -chosen the better part, Mr. Roderick.' - -'I feel no misgiving about my choice whatever, but I hope there is no -reason to look on General Drysdale as another Dives. Difference in -people's circumstances, shows things in so different a light.' - -'Ah! my young friend, charity is good, but it must be according to -knowledge.' - -'But, Mrs. Sangster, the General is a most worthy man, a kind master -and a good landlord, and an honourable gentleman.' - -'I will not say, Mr. Roderick, that his hands are red with the blood -of the saints, because it has not been left in his power to take the -lives of the Lord's people; but he has been very bitter against the -Free Church. We may fairly include him among the persecutors, driving -us forth to worship God according to our conscience, on the bare -hill-side, and refusing us a stance to build our church on any part of -his property. Now, I have always said, that that open place facing -Inchbracken gate is where our new church should stand. There it could -testify before the very walls of the Erastian temple, instead of being -huddled away in the corner of widow Forester's kale-yard.' - -'But how would you like a Roman Catholic or even an Episcopal Chapel -set down opposite your own gate at Auchlippie?' - -'Mr. Roderick! Popery and Prelacy! To hear you evening our true -scriptural protesting Free Church to the Babylonish apostacy, with -their white gowns, and their organs, and their traditions of men! I -fear there's a leaven of latitudinarianism among you younger men. You -should follow the staunch old lights like Mr. Dowlas, to steady your -principles. How you can recall the doings of Archbishop Sharp, and -speak lightly of Episcopacy, is what I can't comprehend!' - -They had now reached the last steep ascent which ended on the summit. -This left the old lady no spare breath to hold forth, and she was glad -to catch hold of Roderick's arm to assist in pulling herself up the -nearly vertical slope. The wind-swept cairn at the top was at length -reached, and, notwithstanding her late complaints, Mrs. Sangster was -forced to shelter herself from the keen breeze, under its lee, and to -resume the shawl she had discarded. - -Craig Findochart rises high over the surrounding hills especially -towards the east. On that side they gradually diminish and die away in -the belt of cultivation that borders the sea. To the north is a narrow -glen running down into a fertile strath well-wooded and watered by a -river of some size; beyond, the lofty Highland mountains toss their -battered summits in the air, a very sea of emulously-surging peaks. -Westward it is mountainous again but more various. The eye travels far -up more than one winding strath, while glancing lakes shine out every -here and there among the greys and purples of mountain and moor. -Southward the view is narrower and loses itself in haze, a greyness -which rises indistinctly from the distant country, but when once -fairly launched in heaven, swells and curls and rears itself into vast -white battlements of cloud, and drifts before the wind shining and -luminous, like some great iceberg in a transparent sea. - -Having surveyed the view, the party sought such shelter from the -chilling breeze as was attainable, on the leeward slope, and proceeded -to rest and refresh themselves, after their fatigues; the old lady, -with some elation at having climbed the hill as cleverly as the -youngest, doing the honours of her provision basket with garrulous -hospitality, while the others reclined on the scanty herbage with -infinite zeal. The warmth gained by exercise withstood the sharp upper -air, whose biting keenness felt only bracing and exhilarating to those -toilers upward from the airless heat below; but after half an hour -they had parted with the surplus heat gained by exertion, and began to -feel distinctly cold. There seemed a failing too in the brightness of -the light, except over the distant sea, which still glittered crisp -and bright in unclouded sunshine. A wan greyness seemed to be stealing -over the landscape, not as when passing clouds dapple the view with -well defined blocks of shadow, but rather a diffused withdrawal of -warmth and light all undefined and vague, but ever deepening like the -stealthy advances of sickness or death upon a living thing. Looking -upwards they now for the first time observe great vaporous arms and -wreaths extending over their heads and stretching out towards the -still bright heavens in the north-east. Turning round they find the -outlook completely obliterated. The shining cloud-masses of an hour -before in the south-west have drifted down upon them, and are now -nothing but curling wreaths of cold damp mist, seething and twisting, -but ever downward and onward. They seem scarcely to have descried -overhead its first advancing arms ere it has descended on them and -lapped them from the world in cold damp greyness, above, below, and -all around them. From far down the hill ascends the report of a gun, -and by and by another, telling them that others besides themselves are -on the mountain, and that they are still upon firm ground; but for -that they might be anywhere or nowhere, the mist hems them in utterly, -the very ground they stand on becomes indistinct, and they stretch -their arms to touch each other and make sure they are not each alone. -They gather close together standing perfectly still, a step in any -direction may precipitate them they know not whither, and the damp -clammy vapour creeps close about them soaking hair and clothing, and -chilling them to the bone. - -'It is only a cloud and will soon pass,' some one says; so they agree -it will be safer to wait than to attempt a descent not knowing where -their next step may carry them. They huddle closely together and watch -and shiver; at one moment it seems growing lighter overhead, and -glimmerings of the bright sky shine through, but anon a surging wreath -drifts up, and the promising rift closes in again denser than before. - -For more than an hour they stood thus afraid to move, stiffening and -shivering in the cold. The day was passing, but the mist showed no -sign of rising; on the contrary it grew thicker and more wetting, and -the idea of spending the night where they were, began to present -itself as a possibility unless they made a bold venture to move. To -die of cold where they were, appeared a certainty if they remained, -while there was at least a hope of escape, in tempting the uncertain -dangers of the descent. - -Wallowby being a stranger was told to keep hold of the guide, and -Sophia was entrusted to their joint care. Mary and Peter having both -some knowledge of the hills and the country followed next, while -Roderick who had often shot over the ground, undertook to pilot the -old lady. The three groups were to keep together as well as they -could, and by constant shouting they hoped to keep within each other's -ken. - -With infinite care, groping and feeling around at every step, they -commenced to descend, the grey obscurity swallowing them up, and -concealing each group from the others. The voices seemed muffled by -the fog, but they enabled them still to hold together. - -Down they went, stumbling over loose stones, clambering down rocks and -slipping among the heather now dripping with moisture, Mrs. Sangster -vowing it should be her last expedition of the kind, if ever she got -safe to 'bigget land' again. - -'Hold more to the left!' shouted the guide, an injunction which Mrs. -Sangster hastened to obey, though still very far from the point it was -meant to apply to and thereby found herself on a steep rock face, -where she was compelled to turn round, and grasping the heather bushes -above, to step gingerly backwards, down into the unknown. - -'Oh! Mr. Roderick, this is awful!' - -'Another step and you will come to level foothold again.' - -'Oh! but I can't; I am caught in something. There it goes--and now I -have lost my gold spy-glass, something has caught the chain and broken -it. Oh, Mr. Roderick! will you help me to find it! I shall never be -able to read my psalm-book on Sunday, if I lose it. Oh dear! oh dear! -what an old fool I have been. Skemmeling over Findochart like a -nine-year old!' - -Roderick shouted to the others to wait, but the cry lost itself in the -mist, or was misunderstood. The voices from below came up fainter and -fainter, and finally they were heard no more. - -The search for the 'spy-glass' occupied some time, and all their -attention, but eventually it was found within a foot or two of where -they stood, and it was not till then that they discovered they were -alone on the hillside. Roderick shouted till he was hoarse, but there -came no response, and it became evident they must shift for -themselves. - -'Most disgraceful conduct! such heartlessness! To think that Peter -Sangster, my own son, whom I have sat up with, and nursed through -measles and hooping-cough, till my back was like to break, should drag -his old mother up here among the clouds, and then desert her!' and -here the old lady began to whimper, but took care to make the -'spy-glass' secure in some inner receptacle of her dress. - -Roderick suggested that it was getting late, and that by making haste -they might yet overtake the runaways. - -'I hope we may. But who knows? They may have fallen over a precipice, -and be lying maimed and mangled at the bottom. Oh dear! it may be days -before they are found. My poor Sophia! that would have looked so well -riding about Manchester in her own carriage! She may have broken her -neck, or disfigured herself for life! lying bruised and bleeding on a -heap of stones. And the crows come and pick at people, they tell me, -when they are too much hurt to drive them away. Oh dear, oh dear! - -Her active mind conjured up every imaginable horror, till, distracted -by the pictures of her own invention, she lifted up her voice and wept -sore. - -Roderick stood by powerless, and eventually silent. Each word of -consolation served but to start her imagination on a new track of -suggestions more frightful than the last, so he held his peace and -waited. Tears brought relief in time, and now fear for herself took -the place of more fanciful terrors. - -'Oh, come away, Roderick!' she cried, 'what are you standing there -for?--glowering at nothing! Come away!' - -The descent proceeded. And now they were on an extended flat, -undulating in all directions, and lying between the steep ascent to -the summit and the declivity which sloped to the next level below. -Without the guidance afforded by continuous descent, they found very -soon that they had completely lost their way, and could form no idea -of what direction they were moving in. - -'I thought you had often shot over this hill, and knew it well, -Roderick Brown, or I would never have trusted myself in your hands; -but it seems to me you know nothing about it. I'm thinkin' we may -wander about here all night, for anything _you_ can do to bring us -home. So I am just going to sit down till the Lord sends us help! -Home! I'll never see home again; and a sorrowful woman I am, that I -ever set out on this fool's errand!' - -'We must do as I have had to do more than once before, Mrs. Sangster, -when I got befogged in the hills, follow a stream of running -water--the first we can find. The water will find its way down -somewhere, and will bring us to a house eventually, though it may take -us through some difficult places.' - -A burn was by-and-by found, and they set themselves to follow its -course wherever that might lead, like the clue by which some devious -labyrinth is disentangled. It led through swampy places sometimes, and -sometimes tumbled downward among rocks and under high banks, but they -were already so wet that walking in its bed where the sides were too -craggy and difficult made small difference, and after clambering -downwards for more than an hour, they were rejoiced by the barking of -a dog some distance below them. - -'Do you hear that? Mrs. Sangster; I think we are nearing a habitation -at last!' - -Mrs. Sangster drew a long breath, and stood upright to listen; letting -go her hold of the bushes by whose help she was scrambling down in the -bed of the burn. The rock she stood on was slippery. On changing her -poise her feet slid from under her, and with a scream, and a -clattering of stones, she shot forward and downward upon her -companion, landing them both in a pool of water. - -'Oh, Roderick Brown! You'll be the death of me! How dare you try your -cantrips on a woman old enough to be your mother? Dragging me through -bogs and down precipices, and ducking me in burns till I haven't a dry -stitch on my back, or an easy bone in my body! I'll have ye up before -the presbytery for a graceless loon! Oh, laddie! never mind what I -say. My head's just going round and round, I think I'm demented! Lay -me on the bank to drip--and let me die in peace! I can go no further.' - - -[Illustration: "She shot forward and downward upon her companion, -landing them both in a pool of water." Page 88.] - - -'Nonsense, Mrs. Sangster. Just a few steps more! We must be very close -to some shieling now. I declare I can smell the peat reek in the air! -Here is a footpath going down the hill--come! let us follow it.' - -'Give me your hand, then, for I do not think I have courage left to -stand alone, far less walk. Oh! What an experience!' - -They reached a shepherd's cottage in a few minutes more, where the -wife of Stephen Boague, surrounded by dogs and children, came out to -receive them. Roderick was not sorry to hand over his charge to the -good woman's care, but he would not linger himself, he must hasten to -the inn, though that was three miles off, to learn if the others had -not arrived there, and if not to send searchers up the mountain after -them. The mist had changed into a drizzling rain, but he was already -too wet to feel it, and too anxious for the others to have any thought -for himself. - - - - - CHAPTER XII. - - _INCHBRACKEN_. - - -The rest of the party stumbled and groped their way slowly down the -hill, Peter and Mary endeavouring to follow the voices of those in -front, and shouting to them from time to time. - -By and by, when they came to more level ground, another shout reached -them through the gloom. - -'Ah! there is your mother!' said Mary, and shouted her loudest. 'But -we cannot go to them, or we will miss the guide.' - -The sound of hoofs was now heard, and the crack of a gun fired as a -signal, and presently a mounted figure loomed up in the mist. - -'Captain Drysdale!' said Peter. - -'Mr. Sangster! and a lady! Miss Brown, you had better get on my pony. -He will save you a good many stumbles.' So saying, he dismounted and -lifted her on the saddle. - -When people meet in the mist, and are hastening after an invisible -guide, there is no time for ceremonious speeches. Mary was mounted and -Kenneth leading the pony, before she had made up her mind whether she -should accept his proffer or not. - -'You may trust Dandy, Miss Mary; he never stumbles, and he will -overtake the rest of your party sooner than you could.' But here their -path ended in rock and precipice. - -'We are at the bottom, climb straight down,' came up out of the abyss. -'It is not difficult, and we will wait for you.' - -Peter began to descend. - -'I know where we are,' said Captain Drysdale. 'If Miss Brown will -trust herself to my guidance, I will bring her round these cliffs -without her needing to dismount, and we, with the pony's help, will -reach the inn before you, so do not be uneasy, Mr. Sangster;' and -before Mary or Peter could express an opinion, the pony had turned, -and they were swallowed up in the mist. - -The pony broke into a jog trot, and Kenneth ran by his side. Shortly -they came upon a path which zigzagged easily down hill, but tended -more and more to the left. Kenneth fired again, and shortly an -answering report came up from the depths below. The pony mended his -pace at the answering signal, and it was not very long before they -came on General Drysdale with a gillie or two and a couple of ponies. -It was the spot where he had agreed with his friends to meet for -luncheon, if the mist had not put an end to their sport. - -'So, Kenneth, you have found the people you heard shouting. What! a -lady, and alone?' The old gentleman advanced to welcome the new -arrival. - -'Miss Mary Brown! To meet you here!' - -'She has been to the top of the hill with Mr. Sangster, and got caught -in the mist. I came on them just as they were on the point of -scrambling down a precipice, and I have promised to take her round by -the road to rejoin them at the inn.' - -'You must be drenched by this drizzling mist, Miss Brown, and it will -take you more than an hour to reach the inn by the road. You had much -better accompany us to Inchbracken, where Lady Caroline will be -charmed to see you made comfortable, and we will drive you home -to-morrow morning. Here, Duncan! you will find a short cut over the -hill. Find Mrs. Sangster at the inn, and tell her, with my -compliments, I have insisted on Miss Brown's remaining at Inchbracken -for the night. She is too much fatigued and wetted to make it safe for -her to go farther to-night.' - -Mary demurred and resisted as well as she could, but the old gentleman -was somewhat autocratic, and not used to being gainsaid on his own -land. Her remonstrances were over-ruled or disregarded, and she had to -submit, with no great reluctance after all, for she was chilled -miserably, and thoroughly wet, and the prospect of an hour's ride -ending in the make-shift drying to be obtained at a wayside inn was -not very alluring. Having exchanged her wet shawl for a dry plaid and -a mackintosh, she found herself riding along the hill track at a brisk -pace, the General on one side and Kenneth on the other, the men having -orders to remain and fire their guns occasionally till Captain John -and his friends should reach the rendezvous. - -It was later that afternoon when Miss Julia Finlayson entered the -housekeeper's room at Inchbracken. In her character of young lady, if -not daughter of the house, she had taken on herself the care of its -floral decoration, a matter less generally thought of thirty years ago -than now, and therefore even less to be entrusted to the servants. She -had made the round of the conservatories, and carried on her arm a -large basket of flowers to be arranged in vases which William the -footman was then bringing in. There she found the lady's maid -preparing tea to carry up-stairs. - -'Has Lady Caroline a headache, Mrs. Briggs? I do wish she would vary -the dissipation a little. Tea before getting up!--more tea at -breakfast!--tea before dressing for dinner, and tea after dinner -again! Why will Dr. Pilcox not intervene, and save her poor nerves? -But nobody ever does venture to advise rich people till it is too -late. But tea after luncheon as well! I almost think I must take upon -me to suggest a little Madeira, unless the headache is very severe. - -'La! Miss Finlayson! The tea is for a young lady just arrived. Did you -not know? She have rid up with General Drysdale and the Capting all in -a titty tit. And my lady, far from being poorly, is quite set up and -lively about having a stranger to entertain this drizzly afternoon, -and indeed, Miss, she have made us all pooty lively upstairs with so -many orders. Rooms to prepare--a hot bath--tea--and all the young -lady's things to be dried. For indeed she had not a dry stitch to sit -down in. And oh! such tears and tatters along of her having been -climbing hills and precipices in the mist, and the Capting bringing -her home safe and sound--for my lady says it is most remarkable. But -how she is agoing to go down to dinner in that black stuff dress I -confess I do not understand. Seeing as how she appears a sweet young -lady indeed, and it would be a pity if she were not properly dressed, -and she an old friend of the family, as I could see by my lady. Though -she has not been here before in my time. But here comes Mrs. Kipper -herself; no doubt she knows the young lady--' - -'Hoot!' responded the housekeeper, 'it's juist auld Doctor Brown's -daughter. I've kenned the lassie sin' she could rin. My lady would -often have her mother up from the manse, and she would be sent down -here to me, and the young laird with her, to keep them out of -mischief, and two bonnie bairns they were, and unco couthie; and -thinks I to mysel', I'm wonderin' will my leddy ever rue the way the -castle and the manse have forgathered. And I wad no say but the -Captain may have a kindness for Miss Mary yet. I thought her brother, -with his Free Kirk havers and his goin' clean against the master's -wishes, would have peuten sic notions out of his head. But there's no -tellin'. They're dour chields the Drysdales, that kenna how to let go; -and if our young Captain has wance ta'en the notion, they may save -their breath to cool their parritch, that would gainsay him. He'll -gang his ain gate.' - -Julia heard it all, while with her scissors she snipped the ends of -her flower stalks, and arranged her nosegays. In her rôle of -affability and general good nature with the household, her presence -imposed no restraint on those confidential servants; in fact, it -rather stimulated them to talk, and show how much at heart they had -the interests of the family, and how well they understood whatever was -going on. It suited her to know whatever was to be thus picked up, so -long as it could be done without betraying unseemly curiosity, and she -was much too wise to compromise herself by putting questions to a -domestic; but this intelligence was far from welcome to her, and what -was worse, Mrs. Kipper's speculations were but confirmation of her own -fears. - -A gentlewoman of slender means, and with no near relations, she had to -make her own way in the world and effect a lodgment in it somewhere by -the aid of such wits as relenting nature had bestowed, when she -withheld the brute strength that is given to vulgar humanity. In fact, -my poor Julia was, I fear, something of a schemer. Is it not shocking? - -And yet, dear lady, if I may ask--how long would that charming candour -and transparency of soul, not to speak of the high-spirited -independence of character, which so delight your friends, survive, if -you had to depend on the hospitality of some one, whom no social law -ordained to offer it? We must all eat three times a day if possible, -and those who have no money themselves must arrange that some one else -who has, shall pay for the dinner, or worse will come of it. -Inchbracken had been the oyster offered by fortune to Julia, and very -well she had acquitted herself in the task of opening it. Friends and -every comfort she had been able to achieve thereby, with every -prospect of their continuance so long as her kinswoman should survive. -But then good things of life are not enough, so soon at least as they -are once secured. Man is not an oyster, whatever his remote ancestors -may have been, nor woman either; and as regards ancestors, without -impugning the oyster's claim, if we are to infer anything from a -never-failing hereditary trait, a place should be found somewhere in -the pedigree for the horseleech; all human desire, aim, aspiration, -may be expressed by the one simple formula--'a little more.' With that -ahead and within view, how contentedly we can struggle along, and with -how little! Progress is what we need to make us happy. Julia was -becoming less young each day, and she was still unwed. No suitor had -appeared, but while her kinsman remained single she had still looked -forward with some confidence in her own skill and good fortune. That -good fortune had sent Kenneth abroad when Mary Brown appeared to be -getting dangerous, and had given herself the opportunity to slide into -intimate correspondence with him as a substitute for his indolent -mother. Again kind fortune had intervened in removing the Browns from -the scene before Kenneth's return, and in involving them in such -disfavour as to remove all danger of their being invited to the house. -Then, too, she had aimed her own little shaft to aggravate the -alienation by clouding his fair fame with insinuations of a -disreputable scandal. - -If she could but have left her ears in the housekeeper's room when she -went up stairs she would have learned how successful had been her -little device to make people entangle their ideas, by accepting -juxtaposition for connection, and thereby mistaking, like their -hostess, the _post hoc_ for the _propter hoc_. William coming for the -dinner bouquets while the confidential talk was in progress, was able -to contribute his quota to it by repeating the appalling facts and -surmises which his friends on the moor had discussed the previous -Sunday, and which, in fact, had been started by himself, though his -memory had failed to record that circumstance. The lady's maid raised -her eyes to the ceiling, and declared that 'she never----,' while the -housekeeper was 'thankful Roderick's godly father was safe in heaven, -or it would have killed him outright.' In due time all this would -filter upwards to Lady Caroline's ears, and yet what would it avail to -Julia? Here was Mary already in the house. A fog on the hill had been -able to undo all that Fortune and herself had been able to effect in -two years time, as the blundering broom of a housemaid will carry away -at one sweep the cobwebs that have been weeks in spinning. Mary Brown -in the house, and Kenneth at her side for a whole evening--but at -least she would be true to herself, and not yield till she was -defeated. Mary would be at a disadvantage in more respects than one, -certainly as regards dress, and also in accomplishments and knowledge -of the world. Mary on the other hand had youth, but then, as Julia -told herself, youth means rawness, and 'I won't give in yet!' she -added, 'I must go to her now to reconnoitre, and behave my very -prettiest, and that will at least keep her upstairs till the dressing -bell rings.' - -So thinking, she entered Lady Caroline's sitting-room with her -flowers. - -'Oh, Julia! such pretty flowers! What should I do without your kind -clever fingers to brighten my room for me? Have you seen the visitor -my General has brought me? But of course not. She is bathing and -dressing, and what not. The poor child seemed actually dripping when -General Drysdale brought her in;--found her in the mist! Away up on -Craig Findochart. I have handed her over to Briggs, and by and by I -hope she will be able to see us. So nice to have somebody arrive this -dismal afternoon. I really felt too dawny even to open the new book -box from London, and as for my knitting, the stitches wouldn't count -somehow, and that fool Briggs went and dropped some of them in trying -to put it right, and altogether the appearance of a new face has made -a most pleasing variety. You remember Mary Brown, of course,--a nice -little girl, and very like her poor mother. A great friend of mine her -mother was--a most dear woman. I believe I miss her sadly still, -sometimes. In fact, I always do miss the Browns when I see the new -people that have come to the manse,--not, my dear, that I would have -you imagine I could undervalue any clergyman of our national church. -Indeed, I consider it an honour to be able to contribute to its -well-being in these levelling times, when if we who have a stake in -the country do not support the Church, we shall have the State too -tumbling in about our ears. Those dreadful levellers seem to reverence -nothing, wanting to repeal the Corn Laws, and to call their dissenting -meeting-places churches! and putting steeples on them, and actually -ringing bells. What is to become of the British constitution if every -dissenting chapel is to have a steeple and call itself a church, and -ring a bell? As my dear General says sometimes, I think the flood -gates must be opening. If it was only the English chapels, it would be -of less consequence. You know my brother Pitthevlis is an -Episcopalian, and I belonged to that Church till my marriage (the -Drysdales have always held to the Establishment and the Revolution -Settlement), not to mention that it is the Established form across the -Border; but that every little gathering of impudent seceder bodies is -to hang up its kettle and deave the whole parish, whenever it wishes -to say its prayers, I consider it most improper, and neither to the -glory of God or man. And therefore, my dear, I would be most -scrupulous in paying the clergy every attention. Still, when I asked -Mrs. Snodgrass and her children to come up and eat strawberries one -summer's day, you may remember it, I could not but think of poor dear -Mrs. Brown, and miss her sadly. I think in future I shall _send_ my -strawberries to Mrs. Snodgrass. I believe she would rather eat them at -home, and I know _I_ shall prefer it. Then it was so convenient in Dr. -Brown's time, whenever a gentleman was required to make up the number -at dinner, he would come so obligingly on the shortest notice, and be -so useful in the conversation;--a most accomplished man, my dear. But -this Mr. Snodgrass is different, dining out does not appear to be his -forte; though he is a most excellent man, and I am sure we ought to -appreciate him highly. But, as I was saying, this little Mary Brown -was always a favourite of mine--a nice, quiet, soft little thing, and -so bright and pretty, just like one of your charming posies there, and -quite a relief on a grey colourless afternoon like this. But here is -Briggs to say Miss Brown is ready to receive us. Come.' - -They passed into an adjoining apartment, where, seated in an elbow -chair by the fire, was Mary. She was wrapped in a large white -peignoir, and her hair, gathered in a knot behind, had partly escaped -from the comb, and fell in a stream of sunny brown across her -shoulders. - -'Mary, my dear, keep your seat, and try to get rested,' said Lady -Caroline. 'Why, child, how like your mother you grow! and so pretty! I -was so fond of your mother, my dear, and you remind me of her. I hope -they have attended to you, and brought you whatever you want. Be sure -and ask Briggs for anything that has been forgotten.' - -And so she went on in a continuous monody, while the younger women -listened; for, when Lady Caroline felt disposed to talk, she gave -little heed to what was said by any one else, but followed the tangled -thread of her own ideas, never doubting but they must be as -interesting to persons of lower degree, as she found them herself. An -Earl's daughter, and of a historical house, she deemed nothing so -reverent as its traditional glories, and insisted with gracious -pertinacity on the full measure of deference according thereto; and -there is little doubt that when in after years she was duly gathered -to her noble fathers, it would not have been the 'Law and the -Testimony,' but the tables of precedence that would have been found -graven on her heart. In one house at the other end of the county she -had been led out to dinner behind the daughter of a more recent -creation, but she had never crossed that threshold since, nor were the -offenders ever again permitted to share in the festivities of -Inchbracken. - -'Well, girls, here comes Briggs with my tea, so I shall leave -you to your own chit-chat; it will be half-an-hour yet before the -dressing-bell rings.' - -Julia drew her seat nearer to the fire, and spread her hands to the -cheerful blaze: like the cats, she loved warmth. - -'It seems long since we have met, Miss Brown. One never sees you in -this neighbourhood now, though you are still so near. Pray, how do you -like your new way of life? I heard a gentleman say, not long ago, that -as it was on spiritual grounds you left Kilrundle, you would no doubt -feel you were advancing, and becoming more like the spirits, in so far -at least as being able to live in several houses at once goes. From -what we hear, you live all over the village at Glen Effick,--a sort of -ubiquity, in short. But perhaps 'living' is too gross a name for that -sort of thing; 'pervade' has a more spiritual sound, only it does not -suggest much in the way either of bed or dinner. Do you like it?' - -Mary raised her eyes enquiringly to the other's face. Did she mean to -be impertinent? And why? - -'A woman lives with her natural protector, Miss Finlayson. Wherever my -brother fixes his home, if he chooses to share it with me, of course I -shall like it.' - -Julia's eyelids winced. She had a rheumatic old aunt who lived in a -sea-side village all the winter with a solitary maid, and who was wont -to disappear in spring, when some family from an inland town would -rent her cottage for the summer. With this ancient relative, Julia had -been thankful to take up her abode when the demise of her parents left -her homeless, and her own small income, added to that of the old lady, -had made a better provision for both. Circumstances had changed since -then. When Lady Caroline found she wanted a companion, Julia -recognised the greater congeniality of a wealthy household. The old -aunt might talk of ingratitude, but she was quietly dropped, and Lady -Caroline enthroned in her 'heart' as nearest of kin. Julia's -conscience, however, was not a troublesome organ, and Mary could have -meant no retaliating shot, since she had never heard of the aunt; so -she continued as though Mary had not spoken. - -'And now you have extended your pervading presence to Craig -Findochart! What a strange choice! You do not expect to do good to -souls up there, do you?' - -'Oh, Miss Finlayson, pray don't! I never was clever at understanding -drolleries, and it pains me to hear sacred things lightly mentioned. -But if you want to know how I came there, it is simple enough. Mr. -Sangster has her son and another gentleman on a visit, and I have been -staying there for a few days. We made a party to Findochart to show -the stranger the view, the mist came down when we were on the top of -the hill, we lost our way and were all scattered, General Drysdale -found me and kindly insisted on bringing me here. It seems all natural -enough when you come to know it, does it not?' - -'Quite natural, dear, and very nice. Pray, forgive my poor, poor -little joke. You remember my foolish fondness for being lively, or -trying, at least; for it is not easily done in the lonely country life -we lead here. Oh, why will Lady Caroline not improve her health by an -autumn at Baden Baden? Pray now, tell me the news, since you are -staying at a house full of visitors. Young Sangster is home, is he? -Home for the holidays, one might say, for he is duller than many a -schoolboy. But his friend. Tell me about _him_--what is he like! Rich, -I suppose, or mamma would not endanger Miss Sophia's peace of mind by -his presence. He will be eligible from an Auchlippie point of view, -and if that is not a very ornamental one, at least it is pretty solid. -Old MacSiccar, the writer, dined with the General last week, and he -spoke of old Sangster as one of the warmest men hereabouts. So, my -dear, you might do worse than go in for gaukie Peter. I half meditate -a descent myself, only it would be a long run over a very heavy -country, as a Leicestershire friend of mine phrases it. But tell me -about the friend. Is he nice? The two shot with Captain John yesterday -over Whauprigg moor, and they were expected for dinner, but there was -some mistake about dressing bags, so we ladies never saw them. Cousin -Kenneth says they are horrid cads both, but then his regiment are a -parcel of supercilious puppies, so we need not mind that. What is the -friend's name?' - -'Wallowby.' - -'Don't like the sound of it. Is he moderately nice? and is he rich?' - -'They say he is very rich indeed, and has more in expectation from a -bachelor uncle--a mill owner.' - -'Ah! Those mill owners are tremendous people. And is he nice?' - -'Really I don't know--That is a matter of taste.' - -'Well, does he please your taste, Miss Precision?' - -'I find him very polite and attentive, more so indeed than I care for. -I think fussy people are apt to put me out, and it seems difficult to -converse with him. I suppose my being Scotch prevents my knowing the -things he talks best about.' - -'And has Miss Sophia made an impression, do you think? Or is she -impressed herself?' - -'Indeed I don't know.' - -'Ah! forgive me. I am so forgetful, but you know I mean no harm. I -remember now, there is some _tendresse_ between your brother and her. -She certainly is handsome, and I hope he will get her if he wishes it, -though, _entre nous_, she always struck me as a dull girl. Like a -wedding cake, only good to look at.' - -Here Briggs knocked and entered, with a bundle of white roses, each -flushing into pinkish creaminess at the heart. - -'With Captain Drysdale's compliments for Miss Brown.' - -'Poor Colewort!' cried Julia, with just a thrill of viciousness in her -voice, 'there go his hopes of a prize at the flower show next week! I -know he has been nursing that rose for weeks past. For all that, Miss -Brown, they will go nicely with your black gown, so I shall leave you -now to embellish yourself with the poor man's broken hopes--Pathetic -sentiment that? Ha! ha!' - - - - - CHAPTER XIII. - - _A HARBOUR OF REFUGE_. - -Roderick having bestowed his companion safely in the shieling of -Stephen Boague, did not linger. He started at once down the glen by -the path beaten by the shepherd and his family. Down a glen, over a -mountain shoulder, across rolling upland, zig-zagging between marsh -and peat bog, at length coming out on the road, and in course of time -gaining the inn from which they had started in the forenoon. There was -no lifting or clearing away of the mist, it had thickened rather, and -filled the air with a diffused drizzling spray, which settled -drenchingly on every thing, trickling down rock and herbage, soaking -into clothing and ground, till like sponge, they were distended with -moisture. - -He was wet already, as well as more or less bruised, battered, and -foot-sore from his late experience, therefore the drizzle did not add -materially to his discomfort, besides, the ferment in his mind made -him insensible to bodily pains. He had heard from Mrs. Sangster's own -lips when apparent danger had momentarily removed the restraints of -civilized life, and her native egotistic worldliness and greed for -once spoke out for themselves, that she was contemplating a match -between Sophia and Wallowby. His Sophia, for whom like another Jacob -earning his Rachel, he had laboured and borne so long. He had not gone -out each morning for fourteen years, it is true, driving the cattle -before him on the pastures of Auchlippie; but these are not the days -in which human life is measured by centuries. Out of what the -insurance companies would call his presumption of life, he had -bestowed a far larger percentage on Sophia, than were the fourteen -years devoted by the patriarch to winning his bride, not to mention -difference in intensity. Notwithstanding the beauty of the sacred -episode, one cannot but suspect some coolness, along with the much -patience required to watch the beloved object drifting from the bright -bloom of girlhood into the sun-burnt maturity of thirty summers, and -still keep waiting to work out the bargain. Roderick had been working -out his bridal on the other line, not ministering to the greed of a -grasping father-in-law, but submitting to whims, exactions, and -pretensions innumerable from the coarse-fibred mother of his charmer. -How she had taken upon her to regulate his orthodoxy!--had sat in -judgment on all that he did! reproved and exhorted him! and how he had -borne it all, and attributed it to ignorant good intentions, for the -love of Sophia! Sophia, whom he had picked blaeberries for in -childhood, and worshipped openly ever since. - -And had he not been given fair encouragement too? When he returned -from Edinburgh for his college vacations, had he not always met a -special welcome there, and received invitations to come and stay as -frequently as even he could desire? And since then, had he not become -in every respect what this most fickle of mothers the most approved? -Had he not cast aside the offer of a good manse and stipend, and come -forth with the faithful to suffer tribulation for righteousness' sake? -Had he not been zealous, and showed his desire to spend and be spent -in the cause of truth? True, he had obeyed the command of conscience, -and not of Mrs. Sangster in all this; but his line of conduct had been -the one she belauded as most noble and holy, and she had already, in -the earlier time, let him clearly see that personally she approved -him, and had given him every facility for becoming intimate with her -girl. And now without the pretence of falling out or complaint against -him, she was deliberately contemplating to marry her to another man. -Was ever such treachery, fickleness, worldly-mindedness, and all that -is worst? - -Poor young man! It _was_ bad treatment looked at from _his_ point of -view,--it was black, and deserving of all the hard names he applied to -it; but then there are more points of view than one, and who shall -decide which is to prevail over the others? His was the suitor's point -of view, but there is also that of the sought, and likewise that of -her family. A family can wed its flower and pride but once, and it is -neither unnatural nor improper that it should try to do its best, -which, speaking in the general, means to secure a rich husband for the -girl. The most mercenary will admit that riches do not necessarily -bring happiness, but the moral point is whether happiness is possible -without them. Many have doubted whether happiness is compatible with -poverty, but no one has ventured to assert that the poverty is an -element in the happiness. - -Therefore, friend Roderick, there is something to be said on the side -of the old woman. It is not to _your_ interests she can be held bound, -further than the truth and justice due to all our fellow creatures -require, but to her daughter's. As to how the case may appear from the -daughter's point of view, you have no right to say, or even to think, -as you have never put it in her power to tell you, and a maiden may -not divulge the secret of her preferences unasked. She has encouraged -you, you say? But how? Answered you civilly when you spoke to her? -Could a lady do less? Has not been averse to your company? Why should -she be? Could she civilly have shown a distaste for it? And supposing -she felt no distaste, but rather liked it? Must a woman be prepared to -marry any man whose company she finds pleasurable, or less irksome -than solitude? You never spoke the word, my friend, that would have -called her to speak for herself, and therefore you have no right to -complain; though I grant that Mrs. Sangster may have been -inconsiderate and fickle, and may be mercenary. Still, if when she -extended her encouragement, you did not tender your proposal, and -thereby nail her, she must be allowed to change her mind if she -desires. As to Sophia herself, the probability is, that her affections -are, and will remain, in an amorphous form, or let us say in solution, -until such time as her relatives provide her with a husband round whom -they may properly crystallize, as they no doubt will, and she will -prove a pattern wife and mother. I fear, however, that as regards the -nucleus round which her affections are to gather, as in the case of -sugar (another sweet substance), any stick will answer quite well. - -Love is blind, and young love headstrong, therefore it is little -wonder if these cold-blooded reflections did not occur to Roderick. He -fretted and fumed as he walked along, and was thoroughly miserable, -while the moisture dripped steadily from his hat brim, and meandered -in little brooks down his neck. - -Eventually he reached the inn, and bade the landlord send out a gig or -tax-cart at once, to bring in Mrs. Sangster. The landlady came -forward, officious to welcome a guest, and eager to show hospitality -to her minister. - -'Wae's me, sir, but ye _are_ drouket! Past a' kennin', ye micht hae -been soomin' e'y loch, forby climbin' the craig. Stap in by, aside the -twa gentlemen, an' warm yersel'. An' I'se bring ye a drap toddy to het -yer insides, an' syne ye'll gang to yer bed, an' I'se toast yer breeks -afore the kitchen fire. Lord pity me! the man's as blae as a corp -about the gills--clean fushionless an' forfuchan wi' cauld an' weet! -Gude grant he bena taeh doon wi' a fivver o' tap o't. Ye'll be for yer -denner, sir, whan Mrs. Sangster comes in? But that winna be for twa -hours yet; sae gang tae yer bed, sir, ey now, an' I'se see to dryin' -yer claes.' - -Roderick entered the room where sat Peter Sangster and his friend. A -roaring fire of wood billets and peat blazed on the hearth, each had a -smoking tumbler at his elbow, and soothed himself with a pipe. There -was a steaminess and a flavour of broadcloth and shoe leather diffused -about the apartment, but it was evident the gentlemen themselves were -nearly dried, and subsiding into a sort of drowsy comfort under the -united influence of warmth, toddy, and tobacco. - -'Ahoy! Sir preacher! Turned up at last? and what have you done with my -mother?' - -'She is safe in a shieling up one of the cross glens, and I have -already ordered a gig to be sent for her. You may expect her in little -more than an hour. We very nearly got lost on the hill in consequence -of waiting to look for an eye-glass she had dropped. When that was -found, you had gone out of hearing, and we found ourselves alone. -Eventually we had recourse to the old device of following running -water, and a pretty course it led us, over slippery rock faces, and -into pools of ice-cold water. Your mother thought she was drowned more -than once, and at last gave up all hope of getting home alive, and but -that she could hear the barking of dogs and the cries of children a -little way below, she would have collapsed altogether.' - -'Hm,' said Peter, 'I can imagine--I am glad it was you and not me! The -old lady is apt to cut up rough under difficulty. However I had my own -troubles. See my coat! Split right up the middle and only held -together by the collar and the two pins which Mrs. Tuppeny here has -tagged it together with. I have to sit bolt upright, or they run into -me like skewers whenever I lean back. Perhaps they are skewers.' - -'Ha!' broke in Wallowby, 'we heard a screach overhead, and when I -looked up, there were a pair of boot heels within a foot of my eye, -the legs belonging to them were only dimly visible, and whatever was -above that was out of sight in the mist. The guide got hold of one, I -took the other, while Miss Sophia stood well to the one side. Then we -said one, two, three, and gave a pull together. There was a crack of -rending broad-cloth and oh! such an unearthly howl. He must have -fancied he was being dragged down into the pit of darkness. Eh, Peter? -and there stood my gentleman clutching his fingers into the cravats of -his two preservers and panting like a steamboat!--Pretty exhibition of -nerves, my fine fellow!--What will they say at the club when they hear -of it?' - -'You shut up! for a clumsy blunderbuss! You nearly dislocated my hip -joint with your idiotic wrenching, and then wonder that I cried out!' - -'What has become of Miss Sophia?' asked Roderick. - -'Tea and bed upstairs,' replied Wallowby with a guffaw; 'the landlady -marched her up stairs to bed first thing, like a naughty child who had -wet her frock, and I heard her say, she would dry her coats for her. -What are coats by the way? Scotticé for garters? I know what breeks -are.' - -'Here's a lad speerin' for Mistress Sangster, gentlemen,' said Mrs. -Tuppeny opening the door and pushing in a damp and touselled-looking -youth, who grasped his dripping 'Tam o' Shanter' tightly in both -hands. - -'I was to speer for Mistress Sangster hersel.' - -'She has not come in yet, but I am her son.' - -'An' there's Master Brown, the young leddy's brither,' added Mrs. -Tuppeny, 'I'm thinkin' it'll be a' richt.' - -'A weel, sir, General Drysdale sends his compliments to Mistress -Sangster---- He sends his compliments' (and he looked into the crown -of his hat as though he expected to find them there) 'an' he's taen -the leeberty o' bringin' Miss Brown hame wi' him til Inchbracken, to -dry hersel', an' he'll tak her hame the morn. He fand her e'y glen, -down by fornent the Herder's Scaur, a' weel an' droukit like, an' for -fear she suld tak the cauld, he juist on wi' her til a pownie, an' -they're gane skelpin' hame til Inchbracken.' - -'Very kind of General Drysdale,' said Roderick, giving the messenger a -shilling. 'Here! Mrs. Tuppeny, give him a jorum of your toddy! He -looks as wet as any of us.' - -'An it's yer pleasure, sir, I'se gie him a gude drink o' yill---- Cock -the like o' _him_ wi' the best Glenlivet! An' I'm no for giein' toddy -to thae hafflin callants, no ways; they dinna need it, an' it's an ill -trick to learn them. The weet's nae harm tae cottar folks' bairns, -they're aye plouterin' e'y burns, an' it juist keeps them caller. But -say the word, sir, an' he's hae the yill!' and so saying she pulled -the messenger out before her and closed the door. - -'I can't say much for your sister's politeness, Brown,' said Peter. -'When a lady accepts a man's escort, she is bound to stick to it, I -should say, and not go off with the first stranger who rides up in the -mist, without even a word of apology or farewell. I don't see why she -could not have stuck by me.' - -'And broken her neck down that precipice where you so nearly stuck -fast yourself?' said Roderick. 'Your hands seem to have been full -enough taking care of yourself. I think one may without presumption or -profanity regard General Drysdale's opportune appearance as -providential.' - -'But it wasn't General Drysdale's opportune appearance! It was that -stuck-up puppy his son.' - -'And a far more ominous appearance for your peace, too, my boy,' said -Wallowby with a chuckle. 'But grin and bear it, old man. You will only -be laughed at if you get mad.' - -Mrs. Tuppeny looked in again. - -'Mister Brown! yer room's ready up the stair. Come awa, sir, an' tak -aff yer claes, an' I'se dry them for ye. Ye'll get yer death, sir, an' -ye bena quick! Juist see til the dub ye're stan'in' in! A' dreepit -frae yersel! An' the reek frae yer fore pairts as ye staund fornent -the lowe--ne'er mind the drap toddy-come awa! I'se brew ye a soup -better an' stronger whan ye're in ower amang the blankets.' - -So Roderick, half pushed and half exhorted, found himself forthwith -upstairs and in bed, while Mrs. Tuppeny stood beside him with a noggin -of her hottest and strongest toddy. - -'Drink it down, sir! It wadna harm a sookin' bairn. An' ye're needn't. -Noo see gin ye canna sleep a wee. It wad do ye gude. Gin ye dinna tak -tent, ye'se no wag yer pow in a poopit this mony a day.' - - - - - CHAPTER XIV. - - _SCANDAL_. - - -When Mrs. Sangster found herself safe in a human habitation, she -relaxed the tense control in which she had held her faculties, and let -nature have its way. - -She sank into a chair beside the fire, and trembled and shivered and -wept profusely for some time. Mrs. Boague heaped fuel on the fire, -removed her shoes, chafed her feet, disencumbered her by degrees of -her outer and wetter garments, which she hung up to dry, and wrapped -her in warm plaids and blankets. The warm cup of tea which she then -offered was fortified with a dash from her husband's private bottle, -very privately added and not mentioned. It acted like a charm in -restoring vigour and composure to the way-worn lady. - -'Your tea is most refreshing, Mrs. Boague. I feel greatly better, and -very thankful to you for your kind attention.' - -'An' kindly welcome ye are, mem, an' mair I wad like to do gin I juist -kenned what ye wad like. It's no often a kenned face, or ony face ava -for that matter, comes by here-awa, forbye a wheen gillies, raxin' -their breekless shanks alang the braes ahint the gentles. I'm a laich -country woman mysel', an' I hae sma' brew o' the hieland folk, wi' -their kilts an' their pipes, the daft antics. An' forbye that, we're -no e'y Hielands here! Ye'll gang twenty mile afore ye'll come on the -Gaelic. It's juist a maggit the General's gotten intil's heid, to pet -his folk in kilts like a curran playactors, an' please my leddy wha -cam frae the North. An' are ye comin' round, mem? Ye were sair -forfuchan whan ye gat down first.' - -'Greatly better, thank you; I think I could take another cup of your -tea, it seems quite to invigorate me. The rich cream, I suppose, and -the fine mountain air. You have many mercies, Mrs. Boague, many -mercies, and I hope you are duly thankful.' - -'Ou ay, mem. Rael thankfu'; but I'm thinkin' it's what cam frae -Stephen's crame pat 'at maks the tea sae nappy. It's Luckie Tuppeny's -gill stoup gae that crame, an' no the kye here-awa I'm thinkin'. An' -as for thankfu'ness for our mercies, we beut a' to hae that, as the -minister says. It's o' the Lord's mercies we're no consumed, gentle -and simple thegither; we're a' John Tamson's bairns sae far as that -gangs, or aiblins Auld Nick's, wha kens? gin we dinna repent.' - -'Ah! very true, and a solemn thought,' said Mrs. Sangster. She was -accustomed to do the Scripture quoting and solemn warnings herself, -when she visited her poorer neighbours, sandwiching her dole-bread -with rich and succulent slices of good advice; but here for once the -tables were turned. It was Mrs. Boague this time, who was performing -the act of mercy, and she realized the privileges of her position. -While proud and pleased to show hospitality to Mrs. Sangster, she was -not going to submit to exhortation such as flesh and blood can only -tolerate in view of an eleemosynary accompaniment. Mrs. Boague saw in -Mrs. Sangster a fellow-member of the Free Church, a Christian sister, -and was disposed to be very sisterly indeed. Mrs. Sangster liked -Christian sisterhood too, but it was sisterhood with Lady Grizel -Pitlochrie, and other Free Churchwomen of noble birth. We all like to -look upwards, even in bestowing our best and purest affections, and -feel it easier to realize the brotherhood of man in connection with -Lord Dives in his coach, than with poor Lazarus who sweeps the -crossing, and gets the mud spatters from his Lordship's wheels. - -Mrs. Sangster held the old-fashioned notion, that God, having made her -a lady, meant her to rule, instruct, rebuke and direct the lower -classes in the paths of holiness; but, alas! the Free Church movement, -which gave this idea increased occupation, was sapping the foundations -on which it rested. A secession from, and a protest against authority -in Church and State, it asked the rich to induce and influence the -poor, while itself courted them by dwelling strongly on their equal -standing in the Church. It has certainly led to a more democratic -state of feeling in the country, and this may or may not be a good -thing, according as the democracy is wise or the reverse. Meanwhile, -it has loosened old ties of interdependence, and helped to widen the -gulf between the classes; but then all advancement has to be paid -for--Adam and Eve got their eyes opened, but, to compensate, they were -turned out of the garden. The question in either case is, is the gain -worth the price paid for it? - -The price Mrs. Sangster had to pay for her entertainment, and she was -quick enough to see it at once and to submit, was familiarity: so she -repeated, 'Very true, indeed, Mrs. Boague, and really Stephen's -cream-pot brings out the flavour of the tea. It's a grand idea, I must -give Mr. Sangster some the next time he is kept late at a meeting of -the Presbytery or the Kirk-session. He comes home so tired sometimes. -These are searching times, Mrs. Boague, we have all need to keep our -loins girded and our lamps burning. But you know that yourself, Mrs. -Boague. And a sweet quiet home you have here, and such fine healthy -children. It must be sweet to live here in the great solitude of -nature, and most imposing. Away from the temptations of the world, you -must have much time for meditation and the perusal of the Word. - -'I'm no sae sure o' that, mem. Gin ye had sax bairns to tent an' skelp -an' do for, ye'd find yer haunds braw an' fu', no to mention the ither -clout that's aye wantin' on yer gudeman's breeks. It's sma' time I hae -for Bible readin' 'at canna get a steek peuten in my ain claes whiles. -Whaur wad I be gin I gaed meditatin', an' a' thae bairns wi' naething -i' their wee wames, skirlin' for a piece, round a teum aumbry? Na, na, -mem! The better pairt's no for puir folk! gin that means glowerin' at -print. It maun be for you gentles, 'at gars ither folk do yer wark, -an' sits a' day fornent the fire toastin' yer hirdies.' - -'Ah, Mrs. Boague! wealth and station bring great anxieties, duties, -and temptations. The rich are not to be envied.' - -'Belike no, mem; but I ne'er saw the ane wad gie up the siller sae -lang as they cud hing on til't. An' as for the solitude o' natur, what -thocht ye o't yersel', whan ye cam spielin' doun the braeside an hour -syne?' - -'Ah! Indeed, Mrs. Boague, that was a painful experience, and very -thankful I am to be in bigget land again. Indeed, I almost gave up -hope of ever coming down alive, and if it had not been for Roderick -Brown, that good young man, I believe I would have stuck fast. It was -a fearsome road. We came through burns and down crags, but he has -brought me safe down, like the good pastor he is, guiding the -trembling steps of a lamb of his flock.' - -'Ou ay, mem; mony's the time my gudeman Stephen diz the same, whan he -finds some teough auld yow stucken faur up amang the scaurs. He juist -pu's her doon by the lug an' the horn, an' she'll come hirplin' hame -ahint him, juist sic like as it micht be yersel'.' - -'Ah yes! a shepherd's work. It seems an appropriate thing to have been -done by my pastor. Reminds one of many beautiful passages, and brings -them home with a force which I feel most improving. I shall certainly -mention it to the next minister I meet. Poor Roderick. He's young yet, -and I could hardly expect him to guide me, that might be his mother, -through the rough places of dark and difficult doctrines; but he has -done his part in the physical difficulty, and no doubt in future years -he may have a like privilege in spiritual things. Oh yes, a good young -man, and a faithful shepherd!' - -'Wha kens? Gin a' the folk says be true, he's liker the wolf in -sheep's clothin' 'at's mentioned in Scripter, than a faithfu' -shepherd. Gin I had a dochter come to the age o' speerin' for, its no -him suld come keekin' round my toun wi' his souple tongue an' his holy -sough, I'se warrant. But ye ken yer ain business, mistress, an', ony -gate, ye were wise to keep him in yer ain hands, an' no hae him -danderin' round wi' the lassie.' - -'What do ye mean, woman? I have known Roderick Brown since he was -born, and there never was a better, steadier, or more pious young man -in the parish. Man or boy, you will hardly find his like between here -and Edinburgh.' - -'Belike mem!--belike--Folk's a' gude till they're fand out. Wha kens -whaur ony o' us wad stand, gin a' was kenned? But ye see mem, it's -like a' to be fand out concernin' his misdoin's, an' it's but a -cracket pig, or a broken cistern his repitation's like to pruive whan -a's kenned.' - -'Woman!--What do ye mean?' - -'Wummin yersel' mem! I ken I'm a wummin, an' sae are ye! But I'm a -decent man's wife, an' his name's Stephen Boague. Sae dinna misca' me. -I'm no beggin'.' - -'But what can you mean? No calumny surely could touch the character of -Mr. Brown!' - -'I ken naething o' calumny, an' I never lee. But gin ye like to hear -as was telled to me ye're walcome. Ye'll ken auld Tibbie Tirpie 'at -bides down by Glen Effick, an' belike ye'll mind her lassie; young -Tib, folk ca's her, a pridefu' scart 'at shoos whiles at the castle, -an' cocks her neb ower ither folic, wi' her veil an' her parrysol an' -the gumflowers in her mutch, like's decent folk was na gude eneugh for -her! Aweel mem, an' wae I am to say the like o' ony puir lass, but -she's gane wrang, an' wha but the minister to blame for't.' - -'Nonsense! Mrs. Boague, I don't believe a word of it!' - -'Juist what I said mysel', mem. But bide a wee, till ye hear the -pruifs. Ye see, mem, the lass gaed awa, naebody kenned whaur, an' -fient a word spak her mither about it. An' lang she stayed, till ae -dark nicht, yon terrible nicht, ye'll mind it? Hame she comes e'y -coach, a' happit up, an' hidin' like, an' greetin' sair, an' out she -slinks at her mither's door, an' nane wad hae kenned ocht about it but -for Mistress Briggs my leddy's woman, down by. An' that same nicht, -aff gaes the minister, in a' yon wind an' ren. It was lang after -decent folk was in their beds, an' naebody was steerin' to see him -gang. An' next day he brings hame a bairn, an' gies't til his sister -to tak tent on--the puir young leddy! To mak a fule o' her that gate, -wi' a merry-begotten wein! That caps a', says I, whan I heard it. An' -syne naething maun do but baptis't, an' mak a fule o' the Kirk's -solemn ordinance. An' there was Tib, I saw her wi' my ain e'en, keekin -ower the folk's heads, like's she thocht shame to be at the preachin' -ava, an sae weel she micht. An whan it cam to bringin' out the bairns, -awa she slinks hame, wi the niepkin stappit in her mouth to keep in -the greet. I saw't a' mysel', mem, an what mair pruif wad a body hae? -Folk dinna do their deeds o' darkness in day licht an' a' body lookin' -on, sae it's juist by pettin' that an' that thegither, ye can houp to -find them out. But there's mair yet. O' Sawbith nicht whan a' was -dark, wha suld be seen comin' out o' Tibbie s door but the minister? -An' wha gangs down to Peter Malloch's shop o' Monday mornin' but -Tibbie? an' she had siller wi'her, a pund note an' nae less. A note o' -the Bank o' Peterhead, 'at naebody round here ever has but Mester -Brown, an' his siller a' comes frae there. Noo, what say ye til a' -that? Mistress Sangster. The wicked man diz his deeds e'y dark but the -Lord will bring them t'ey licht, that's what I say, an it's scriptur, -or gye an like it. Belike it was a minister I heard preachin't--But -is't no terrible?' - -'I am confounded, Mrs. Boague! Who ever could have supposed it? But -the evidence is so circumstantial, it is impossible to doubt. It seems -providential that I should have come here to learn all this. And that -he should have presumed to come to Auchlippie, philandering after -Sophia! Would nothing less than _my_ daughter do for him? The -reprobate! But oh! He shall smart for it!' - -'Ca' canny! mem. Has the young leddy a kindness for him, think ye? -It's sair wark to bawk young luve. He's a likely chield eneugh, an' -micht mak no sae ill a gudeman, noo the daffin's by. It's no aye the -warst o' the men gangs wrang about the lasses. As for that limmer, Tib -Tirpie, I'd bring her to shame. The cuttie stule's a' she's gude for, -wi' her gumflowers an' her veils, cockin' her neb at decent folk, an' -scancin' at my tuscan bonnet, that was gien me by my ain gudeman, the -year he married me. But, as I was sayin', gin the young leddy had a -rael kindness for him, ye're no bund to ken a' 'at gaed afore; and let -byganes be byganes. It'll a' blaw ower.' - -'But there's nothing. He no doubt has paid my daughter some attention, -or at least has come a great deal to the house; but she is far too -well-principled a young woman, to have any liking for a man who has -not proposed and been accepted by her parents. In our rank of life, -Mrs. Boague, things are not done exactly as they are in yours.' - -'Aiblins no, mem. Ye think ower muckle o' the gear for that!' said the -other, the radical once more rising within her, and the colour coming -to her face. But the rattle of wheels without and a knock at the door -changed the current of their thoughts, before the two had time to join -in wordy battle, in which, perhaps, victory might not have chosen the -gentlewoman's side. - -Mrs. Sangster, with profuse thanks and salutations, climbed into the -tax-cart, while the anxious mother busied herself in pulling her -numerous brood from among the horse's feet. The vehicle at length was -safely started on its return down the glen, without damage done to any -of the children. Mrs. Boague returned indoors, bearing the most -refractory of her offspring in her arms, and the last that was heard -of her was the sound of maternal discipline and the wails of the -culprit, echoing down the glen till it was smothered in the mist. - -Arrived at the inn, Mrs. Sangster found the gentlemen ready for -dinner. She grumbled at the delay, but submitted; she would, however, -on no account allow the minister's repose to be disturbed, and assured -Mrs. Tuppeny that with his delicate constitution, it might be as much -as his life was worth, to let him get up again that afternoon. - -Having dined, the party made haste to be gone, under pressure of the -old lady's impatience; for of all the anxieties of that anxious day -the most harassing to her now was that Roderick would come down and -join them on the home-going. That would be dreadful, yet how was she -to forbid him? He had come as her guest, and he had, in all -probability, saved her life a few hours since on the hill. It needed -advice and consideration to decide what she should do or say at their -next meeting, in view of the dreadful revelations of his depravity -which had been made to her. - -She wanted to sleep over it, and felt, to use her own pietistic -phrase, deeply thankful, when at last the inn was safely vanishing in -the distance, without her having met him. - -Had she but known she might have spared her fears. Roderick was really -ill; too ill to observe that she neither came nor sent to enquire for -him. He tossed about on the bed where he had lain down some hours -before, hardly asleep and not quite awake. The heat of a fire and a -feather bed, too many blankets, and Mrs. Tuppeny's toddy, had thrown -him into something like a fever, yet fatigue and general oppression -had stupified him past seeking relief. When the stupor lessened, a -dull hot aching was in every joint, and he moved restlessly on the -bed. Then the heavy eyes would close again in a kind of slumber, but -the restless thoughts refused to go to sleep. An inarticulate anxiety -clung to him, and he climbed up endless precipices in his dreams. Up -and up he would drag himself, and anon Sophia would appear higher up -still on a peak above him, and he would climb and climb to reach her. -As he approached, her features would change, and, slowly taking the -likeness of her mother, she would spurn him, and then with a cry he -would lose his hold, and begin to fall down and down through endless -depths of nothing, till at last in utter panic his limbs would move, -and the spell of the nightmare broken, he would awake. - -Thus between waking and sleeping, the afternoon and the weary long -night wore away. The sun was shining at last upon another day, and -though manifestly ill, he was able to get into a gig and be driven -home to Glen Effick. - - - - - CHAPTER XV. - - _MARY_. - - -It was a revival of the dear dead past to Mary Brown, to find herself -again at Inchbracken. General Drysdale took her in to dinner, and, -perhaps because he would not touch upon the present, leading, as it -must, to her brother's defection from the national Church, nor, in -fact, on that young man in any way or respect whatever, he talked to -her about her father and mother. - -She found it very grateful to listen to their praises; and something -like a tear glistened in her eye while she looked in the old -gentleman's face, and the faint colour of her cheek deepened into a -warmer pink. - -We value our powers to interest others most when we feel them leaving -us, and it is not often that an old man's conversation can bring a -flush or a tear to the cheek of youth and beauty. General Drysdale -felt pleased as he marked the effect of his words. It recalled, who -can say what associations with the time when he was a young man, and -an object of more interest to the fair, and he became more and more -warmed himself, out of sympathy, as he dwelt on the charities and the -worth of Mary's parents. - -Julia, from her place across the table, remarked with surprise the -General's unusual animation and loquacity, and his unwonted -inattention to the high duty of the hour--dining. Mary's eyes were -shining, and in her plain black dress with the roses, she bloomed a -brighter flower than they, radiant in pure content. So, at least, it -was evident that Kenneth thought. He sat at some distance from her, -and had even to lean forward somewhat to see, but his eyes were ever -travelling in that direction, and he appeared to answer the gentlemen -on either side of him in so distraught and unsatisfactory a manner, -that they soon ceased to disturb his musings by further talk. - -Julia had arrayed herself for conquest. She always dressed well and -carefully, but on the present occasion her effort had risen into the -region of art. Arrayed in some combination of white and green, which -cured any tendency to yellowness in her complexion (and her shoulders -at times were a trifle too suggestive of old waxwork), her pale eyes -twinkled with quite an unwonted lustre, and there was positively a -bloom on her cheeks and lips, while the falling ringlets were longer -and more poetic than ever. When Briggs went into her room during the -dressing hour, she had surprised her in the act of locking something -very like a paint-box into her desk, and she had made a pretty sharp -survey while she added the few pins that were all the office required -of her; but, as she remarked subsequently, 'I could not take my oath -of it, Mrs. Kipper; if she do, she manages uncommon clever.' Painting -is a fine art, and Julia had studied it as well as all the others, and -would have thought it but a paltry achievement to deceive the stupid -eyes of poor Briggs. - -There were several strange gentlemen at table, and Julia was on her -mettle. The two who sat next her found her most agreeable, but sparkle -her best, she failed to catch one glance of appreciation from -Kenneth's eyes. At the end of the table she saw Mary, and the General -still smiling and engrossed in their talk, and confessed to herself -that she had undervalued the strength of the enemy. To think that that -slip of a girl, brought up in a country manse, should manage so -splendidly, and contrive to win the old gentleman to her side as well -as the young one! How was it done? Through all the years she had dined -at his table, she had never been able to extract more conversation -from him than a casual remark between the courses, and latterly she -had ceased even to expect that. - -Matters did not progress much more satisfactorily in the drawing-room. -Julia had sat down to the piano, and played her best, which is saying -a great deal, for she was a brilliant performer. She also sang, and -although her voice was thin, it had had the best training, and she -could warble through the most intricate compositions with consummate -taste and execution. She soon had all the gentlemen gathered around -her in silent admiration, all, that is to say, except the General, who -was in his usual corner, by his own lamp, his eye-glass on his nose -and a blue book in his lap. As one of the legislators of this great -nation, he felt it incumbent to fall asleep--to fall asleep over its -affairs every evening; it reminded him of the House in fact, where he -had had many a good nap in his day. However, as he never spoke, and -always voted straight with his party, that made no difference. Kenneth -too was wanting. Mary Brown sat on a low stool beside Lady Caroline's -arm-chair, who,--the lady that is, not the chair--was chatting -drowsily to her, while she swayed her great fan to and fro, and -Kenneth, with his elbow on the chimney-piece, hung over both. Julia -was by no means insensible to the admiration of the strangers,--at -another time it would have given her great satisfaction; but just at -present, the defection of Kenneth and his father out-weighed it all. - -There is now but one chance to outshine her rival--to get her to the -piano and try how her poor little efforts will sound after her own -finished performance. After one more song, therefore, which she took -care should be the _chef d'[oe]uvre_, she declared she could sing no -more, but suggested that some one should ask Miss Brown. Miss Brown -was asked, and would fain have declined, but Lady Caroline recollected -how sweetly her mother used to sing old Scotch ballads, and enquired -if she had not taught them to Mary. Mary had to admit so much, and -thereupon was led to the piano, while Julia seated herself in full -view to enjoy a triumph. - -It is no doubt perfectly true that Scotch music is by no means the -highest development of that delightful art. It is but the outcome of -natural feeling in a simple age and among an unsophisticated people; -yet it does not by any means afford a good or safe medium for the -beginner or the bungler to display to advantage his slender skill, -while proficients in operatic music will find little opportunity to -display their vocal feats, and it is quite probable that they may not -be able to render it at all. It has an accent of its own which is not -expressed in the musical notation, and is beyond the reach of any but -a native, and attained but by few of them. Mary Brown's musical -opportunities had not been great, but she had a full pure voice, -always in perfect tune, and she had been accustomed to hear and to -sing Scotch ballads all her life, and she entered into their spirit. -Before she had sung two verses, the General's drooping head had -steadied itself, he had risen to his feet, joined the group by the -piano, and was beating time with his eye-glass to the quaint old -measure. Lady Caroline too had risen, a most unusual exertion for her -to make after dinner, and was standing with the rest. - -In this highly cultured age, we are all most learnedly musical. -Beethoven, Bach, Spohr, we pay guineas to hear their works rendered, -and are immensely pleased of course; though perhaps there are more of -us than the one of whom it is recorded, who could very well mistake -the tuning of the fiddles for the choicest morceau of the evening, and -who certainly prefer the grand finale to all the rest. But the effect -of a well-sung Scotch song on a roomful of Scotch people is something -markedly different from the conventional and sometimes fictitious -enjoyment of high music. Like the spiders which issued from the -crannies of his cell when the Bastile prisoner touched his lute, so -the inherent nature of the Scot will out and show itself at the sound -of the national music, the dullest eye brightens and the heaviest foot -would join the strathspey. It is in the blood. The artificial and -conventional culture is scarce fifty years old, while the individual -and peculiar nationality, of which our music is the voice, has come -down in the blood through twenty generations, from before Bannockburn -and the wars of independence, and is still present behind the -whitewash of cosmopolitan pretence. - -Lady Caroline wiped her eyes under the rendering of Bessie Bell and -Mary Gray's sad fate, and declared it reminded her of the old nursery -at Pitthevlis, when she was a child. The General (who would have -thought it?) was most interested by the woes of true love; and the -'Mill dams of Binnorie' and 'Barbara Allan' made him tug his moustache -very hard. The strangers each had his special favourite, and Mary knew -them all; then at length she was permitted to rise from the piano, and -she did so amid an ovation of thanks. Julia's plan to belittle her had -not succeeded. - -The following forenoon Kenneth drove her over to Glen Effick. They -stopped at the inn by Gortonside, where they were told of Roderick's -illness, and how he had started for home only an hour before. That was -the single bitter drop in Mary's cup. She had spent a delightful day -at Inchbracken, and now, undreamed of joy, Kenneth was driving her -home himself. He was, oh! 'so nice,' and was saying----. No matter -what he said, but it seemed the sweetest song she had ever listened -to. - -Lady Caroline and Julia had stood together at the window, and watched -the pair drive away. - -'It is not often Kenneth is so attentive to any one,' she observed to -Julia. 'The two appear to have settled themselves for a most -comfortable chat. And really she is a nice girl, and so pretty. I am -not surprised at Kenneth's fancy, and if anything comes of it I shall -make no objection. I once tried to bring on an attachment between him -and one of the Pitthevlis girls, quite as much for Pitthevlis' sake -and the girl's as for Kenneth's, for I know she won't have sixpence; -but she thought she could secure a title then, and was disposed to -reserve us for a consolation stake, if the other venture miscarried. -That was more than I could brook, as you may suppose, considering it -was they were to be the gainers, and not I, so Edith has never been -asked to Inchbracken again, nor will be, till either she or Kenneth is -married. Not that it matters, very likely, for of course the plan was -only between Pitthevlis and myself. With his long family and the mess -he has made of his affairs, it was the only way I could think of to -help him, and he appreciated it, but the girl and her mother were both -fools. However, it is doubtful if Kenneth would have fancied her in -any case, he is so whimsical and critical. I have had half-a-dozen -good fortunes staying with me at different times,--and a shocking -ordeal it is, my dear, to undergo, I can tell you; the monkeys seem so -thoroughly to understand why they are there, and presume so abominably -upon it. But the very fact of my having brought them, seemed to set -him against them. He is so wilful and headstrong. I remember, when he -was a baby, the trouble we had with him,--insisting on feeding himself -long before he could hold the spoon. I suppose it is the same temper -that will not allow his old mother to help him in finding a wife. I -have quite made up my mind to acquiesce in his choice, whatever it may -be, for it will do no good to remonstrate; and if this is the girl he -has set his fancy on, I confess I think he might go farther and fare -worse. - -Julia listened. Lady Caroline's discourse generally poured itself -forth, irrespective of an interlocutor. She simply thought aloud to an -auditor, who, of course, in the nature of things, must lend an -attentive and sympathising ear to whatever a daughter of Pitthevlis -might choose to say. Considering what had been her own views, it was -hardly an agreeable subject of conversation, but the pain was not very -great. There was nothing emotional, neither jealousy nor wounded love, -in the matter. Next to a cool head a cold heart is perhaps the best -outfit for one who has to get on in the world by the exercise of his -own wits. Julia was a good deal like a spider, thinking that when one -web has been swept, no time should be lost in beginning to weave -another. Hate, spite, jealousy, are all unremunerative; worse, they -are waste of force. Yield to the inevitable, and try a new scheme when -the old miscarries. Julia had to be settled in life, and so soon as -the one desirable party became manifestly unattainable, it was time to -cast about for another. - -From Mary Brown she led the conversation back to the circumstance -which had brought her to Inchbracken, and that naturally led back to -the companions who had shared with her the dangers of the mist. - -'Would it not be proper, Lady Caroline,' she said, 'since Craig -Findochart is on the Inchbracken property, and a serious accident -might so easily have occurred, to enquire for the people and how they -got home? If you think well, I could drive over and leave your card.' - -'I see no objection, my dear, if you want the drive; but she is so -pushing, she will be returning the visit forthwith, and I dread that. -She stifles me. Her very deference is aggravating.' - -'I think I should like the drive, dear Lady Caroline, and you shall -have all the news I can pick up on my return.' - - - - - CHAPTER XVI. - - _MAN AND WIFE_. - - -It was dark before the wanderers alighted at Auchlippie. Mr. Sangster -had already retired. He was always up in time to superintend the -feeding of his stock and to see his men begin work punctually at six -o'clock, and he generally became drowsy early in the evening. - -Every one was cold, weary, and perhaps a trifle cross. Supper was a -necessary, but it proved by no means a cheerful meal, and each one -sought his candlestick as soon as possible. Mrs. Sangster followed. - -All through the afternoon she had been in a state of suppressed -excitement, she found it hard to refrain from saying what was -uppermost in her thoughts, yet, what she would have said, she felt she -could not say before her daughter, nor even her son and his friend. -She had been restless and irritable all the way home, breaking in upon -and interrupting the rather listless chat of the others, yet unable to -furnish talk herself. Arrived at home, and unable to get speech of her -spouse, she had fallen foul of the supper arrangements, and rated the -parlour-maid soundly, till that injured damsel withdrew in tears, and -informed the denizens of the kitchen that 'something had come ower the -mistress, for she was carrying on ben the house, like a hen on a het -girdle.' - -Having seen all safe for the night, she sought her chamber. There she -seated herself on the chair by the bed-head of her slumbering lord, -and laying her hand on his shoulder, she imperiously whispered, -'James.' - -James opened his eyes. 'Is that you, Kirsty? Put out your candle and -come to bed.' - -'But I couldn't sleep a wink, James, till I have talked it all over -with you. So waken up!' - -'I'm sleeping already, and I won't be disturbed. If you wanted to talk -over things, you should have come home sooner. Come to bed!' - -'I cannot lay down my head to-night, or sleep one wink till I have -talked it all over.' - -'Then, sit up, by all means, if it pleases you; but put out the candle -and hold your tongue. I've got to be up early in the morning, and I -want to sleep,' and thereupon he turned round on the other side. - -'James Sangster! Wake up at once! and listen to me! I'm the mother of -your children, and the wife of your bosom! Saint Peter says you are to -give honour to your wife as the weaker vessel, and I insist on your -attending to what I have to say!' - -'Saint Peter wasn't married to a Scotch woman, or he'd have known -better. Small weakness I see in any of you!' - -'Mister Sangster! I will not allow the Scriptures to be spoken of in -that irreverent manner. And you an elder of the Fre Church! For -shame!' - -'The Scriptures command wives to obey their husbands, and I tell you -to put out your candle, and hold your tongue!' - -'I won't have Scripture bandied in his irreverent way! Pray who are -you? to take its sacred precepts in your lips, you worldly-minded man. -But it's none of your fleeting temporal concerns I'm thinking about! -It's the Church itself.' - -'Well, my dear, it can keep till morning; it can't take fire to-night. -That's one advantage of it's not being built yet! And you've deaved me -often enough before about Widow Forester's kale-yard and all the rest -of it--Get to bed!' - -'It's not the church stance I'm thinking about. It's our souls! I'm -afraid, nay I know we have been placing our immortal interests in the -hands of a man of Belial!' - -'What are you havering about, now, gude-wife?--man of Belial?--speak -plain English or honest Scotch!' - -'It's true! James Sangster, Roderick Brown is a man of sin!' - -'We're all sinners, my dear. If you'd only mind that always, and that -it includes yourself, you'd speak more charitably of your neighbours. -I wish I was as sure of myself, or you either, as I am of young Brown. -He's a true christian--the very salt of the earth!' - -'The salt has lost its savour, then, for he's a bad man!' - -'Oh fie, Mrs. Sangster! And it's not a month yet since you were -talking of marrying him to our Sophia! and I really felt like agreeing -with you for once. He'd make a better man for her than that whiskered -gomeral down stairs--for all his siller. I'm thinking its the -Englishman's bawbees, mistress, have changed your tune.' - -'I am _not_ mercenary!' retorted Mrs. Sangster, stiffening herself in -her dignity and her best English; 'and you well know it! Though but -for my christian prudence, your standing in the world, and your -balance at the bank, which is more within your narrow comprehension, -would not be what they are!' - -'Hoity toity, woman! no offence! Well! you've woke me up, at any rate -now, (the pertinacity of these weaker vessels!) so say your say and -have done!' and thereupon he sat up in bed, adjusting the white -nightcap with its tufted summit over his red sun-burnt face. The -clouds of sleep had entirely dispersed themselves, and with them every -shadow of ill-humour; but there was a twinkle at the corner of his -eye at the absurdity of his wife's vehemence, which she found harder -to bear up against. 'Tell away, my dear, I'm listening.' - -His wife cleared her voice and opened her lips, but nothing came. - -'A mountain in labour and out comes a mouse! "_ridiculus mus_" we used -to say at the Grammar School of Forfar.' - -'There's nothing ridiculous about it!' retorted the lady, snatching at -an excuse to become indignant again, and so bear up under the tranquil -cynicism in her husband's face. 'But you men are always for casting -ridicule on serious things. You think it shows your superiority, I -suppose.' - -'Never mind, my dear, go on with your story.' - -'Well, as I said already, he's a bad man. He has brought the innocent -confiding daughter of that poor lone, widow Tirpie to harm, and now he -is not only concealing his sin, but, as one may say, glorying in it, -and trading on it to get a reputation for beneficence before the whole -parish. He brings it home as a poor foundling rescued from the sea, -persuades his sister to adopt it, and actually has the effrontery and -the profanity to hold it up for baptism, and take on himself the vows -before the whole congregation.' - -'Did old Tibbie Tirpie tell you all that? Is she publishing the -disgrace of her own child?' - -'It wasn't she who told me, but I have no doubt when you call her and -the girl up before you in the Kirk Session, they will confess the -whole.' - -'And if Tibbie is not your informant, pray is it the daughter? And -what corroborating evidence can she show? I wonder you would lend so -ready an ear to the assertions of a designing quean, whose conduct, by -her own confession, has shaken her claim to credit.' - -'Oh you men! you are all hard alike, and scornful, when a weak woman -is the sufferer--is that your manliness? But it was not the girl who -confessed to me. I venture to think that not the most impudent would -come to _me_ with such a tale. I trust my character as a virtuous -matron stands high enough to save me from contamination such as that.' - -'No doubt, my dear--I should not like to be in her shoes, at any rate, -if she did venture so far--your virtue would be too much for her--and -would not spare her.' - -'I hope not, Mr. Sangster! Though you say it as though it were a -disparagement. The evidence is all circumstantial, as it must -necessarily be, in a case of secret sin and hypocrisy; but it fits so -well together, and is so conclusive, I have no doubt whatever in the -matter. Less has hung a man before now; but then that was in cases of -sheep stealing--a very different affair. Sheep are property, and you -men are keen enough where that is concerned. This is a case of souls, -and till women and ministers get a voice in your law-making, there's -little justice to be looked for.' - -'The Lord grant I may be removed before that day arrives. The women -and the ministers ride us roughly enough at home, but when it comes -to making our laws, and governing us publicly I hope I shall be -away--But, to return to our mutton--not the sheep-stealing, but the -matter in hand--what is your circumstantial evidence? And where did -you hear it?' - -'The most startling circumstances, as far as I can recollect them at -present, are, that it was on that dark night of the storm, that the -girl returned home after a long and unexplained absence. That same -night, as I am informed, in the dark and storm, when nobody could see -him, he stole away, and the next morning brought in the child. Observe -the coincidence. Then there was the conduct of the girl at the child's -baptism. It was quite startling as described to me. So like the -workings of an awakened conscience! And the unwillingness she showed -to look at the destroyer of her peace. She actually rose and left the -meeting before he stood up to offer the child for baptism. As I was -not an eye-witness of that, however, I cannot express it so strongly -to you as it was impressed on me. Then he has been seen coming out of -the Tirpie cottage, after dark. Oh! repeatedly! And he has been giving -them large sums of money. The old woman has carried pounds of it into -the village, and it is known that no people about here pass notes of -the Peterhead bank except the Browns. Now! what do you say to all -that, James Sangster?' - -'Nothing, my dear, at present. Who told you it all?' - -'It came to me in quite a providential way, seeing that I felt rather -under an obligation to Roderick Brown just then, and therefore -softened to him in the matter of his courtship to our Sophia. We got -lost in the mist this forenoon on Craig Findochart, and we all got -scattered. If it had not been for Roderick Brown, I believe I might -have been there yet. But we got down at last, and came right upon a -shepherd's shieling, where I waited and got dried, till a vehicle -could be sent for me from the inn. The shepherd's wife,--Boague is her -name, and I owe her some flannel for her hospitality,--seems a very -worthy woman, and an earnest adherent of the church, and it was she -told me it all. Told it in a very proper spirit. I believe she is a -worthy woman, and seemed to deplore most properly the sad falling away -of one of our office-bearers. But do you not agree with me, such a man -should be made an example of?' - -'Made an example of? Whom would I make an example of? I would make an -example of the idle tattling woman who makes free with the names and -reputations of her betters! If I lived in the good old times when my -father was Provost of Forfar, and if I filled his shoes, I would have -her tawed through the town at the cart's tail, and so teach her to -weigh her words. And as for you, Kirsty! I am surprised that a good -woman should lend so ready an ear to foolish slander, without a shred -of proof to support it. You have known the Browns all their lives, and -yet you will let the idle blathers of an ignorant cottar wife set you -against them! I thought you had set your mind on getting the girl for -Peter. How will circulating slanders against the brother help you -there?' - -'The girl, Mr. Sangster, has other views, it would appear. She left -Peter in the mist and rode away with Captain Drysdale to Inchbracken. -Brother and sister seem both tarred with the same stick. But she shall -never have it to say that she jilted my Peter! When her brother is -disgraced that 'will be reason enough why Peter should not press his -suit with the young lady.' - -'Don't let your tongue run away with you, my dear. I see no prospect, -and I hope there _is_ none, of your ever disgracing Roderick Brown, -and I warn you never to repeat to any one the trumpery story you have -woke me up to listen to; your husband will have heavy damages to pay, -if you so far forget yourself.' - -'But it is a spiritual matter, and will go before the Church Courts.' - -'Even if it did, my dear, a civil action would lie, so you had better -take care. The damages would be perhaps a thousand pounds, besides -expenses.' - -'But what did we leave the Establishment for, if we are still to be -answerable to the Court of Session.' - -'If we left it for that purpose, my dear, it was a false move, for we -are still the Queen's'subjects, and liable to be sued in all her -courts. If you circulate a slander to a man's civil injury, you must -pay for it, and your circulating it through the Courts of the Free -Church will not save you from the consequences, and very properly, -too! So take my advice for once, and say no more about it. Now, get to -bed.' - -Mrs. Sangster had much too high an opinion of her own perspicacity to -be moved an inch from her belief in the minister's wrong-doing, by -anything her spouse could say; in fact, as a superior woman, she felt -bound to believe it all the more on that account. At the same time his -plain common sense impressed her uncomfortably, and though she would -have scouted to own its influence, she yet had no wish to meet it in -collision. She therefore forbore to say anything on the subject next -day, though it was much in her thoughts; just as the owner of some -delicate fancy article will be careful how he brings it within the -brutal swing of a sledge hammer, though he does not therefore part -with his property. - -Sophia had a bad cold, and Peter was laid up with toothache, swelled -face, rheumatism, and most of the other aches and pains possible to -frail humanity after being drenched to the skin. Mr. Sangster had gone -off to attend a fair, and only the hostess was left to amuse the -guest. Mr. Wallowby had sauntered round the garden, the stable, and -the cattlepens, consuming much tobacco as he went, and now he was -returned indoors. Mrs. Sangster had provided him with newspapers, -magazines and such light reading as she could lay her hands on; he had -looked at them and laid them down; and now the two were confronting -each other in the drawing-room making themselves miserable in abortive -conversation. Neither was more stupid or worse informed than people in -general; on the contrary, both were sharp enough; but by no device -could they contrive to make their ideas run in parallel trains. -Whatever was said by the one was answered by the other at cross -purposes, till both felt themselves sinking into helpless fatuity. -Wallowby held up his book that he might yawn behind it, the lady went -to the window, that she might take the same relaxation undisturbed. - -The sight of a carriage approaching was a welcome apparition, mingled -too with a little surprise as she descried the Inchbracken liveries, -and bethought her that there was no election in prospect; for it was -seldom, save for reasons of state and the good of the nation, that -Lady Caroline vouchsafed the light of her countenance on the dwellers -at Auchlippie. - -Mrs. Sangster was immensely gratified by the kind interest in her -welfare which had prompted Miss Finlayson's visit, and was pathetic in -her regrets for the severe headache which had deprived her of the -sight of her ladyship in person that forenoon. - -Miss Finlayson then turned to Mr. Wallowby, enquired the length of his -stay in the neighbourhood, and expressed Lady Caroline's regret that -she had not seen him at dinner the day he shot with Captain John, and -mentioned the many interesting things they had been disappointed of -showing him. - -Mr. Wallowby was a radical, and therefore enjoyed the idea of having -excited interest in a titled lady--all democrats like distinguished -company. The American variety live, when possible, exclusively among -Colonels and Judges; but in England where these are few, a lord or a -lady is a being whom it is happiness to have spoken to. He expressed -his wish to call before leaving the neighbourhood, and she, by -enumerating the real or imaginary engagements of her ladyship for all -the days but one, secured that if the visit were made it should be on -a day when the gentlemen would be absent. She dared not inflict a -distasteful guest upon them, but she knew she could coax Lady Caroline -into complaisance for one afternoon. She also produced a few of her -best smiles and pretty speeches, and offered them tentatively to the -gentleman, who rose to them freely; and, to change the metaphor, was -indeed in very high feather. - -When the visit came to an end, he manifested considerably more -_empressement_ in seeing the lady to her carriage than Mrs. Sangster -thought was at all called for, and she went up stairs at once to her -daughter's room to see if she could not be brought down, and make a -little way with him in his present lively mood, or show at least how -much handsomer she was than the agreeable young person who had just -driven away. Alas! poor Sophia's cold in the head was too severe, her -face was swollen and flushed, her eyes were watery, and several -letters of the alphabet were beyond her power of speech. The mother -sighed, but had the wisdom to admit she was best in her own room. - -Wallowby went up to see Peter, who was trying to deaden his pains with -tobacco, to tell what a remarkably fine girl had just left the house. -Peter would not admit the fineness, but he mentioned what told more -strongly in her favour-her relationship to the noble family of -Pitthevlis. - -'Really aristocratic!' said Wallowby. 'I knew it, the moment I saw -her. A most elegant person, and she seems to know a well-looking -Englishman when she sees one. Most remarkable, Peter, how well we got -on together!--seemed to understand each other from the very first. You -know I am rather a stiff and reserved fellow in general, with perhaps -just a shade of hauteur. But somehow, we just dropped into each -other's way at once. Most remarkable!' Somehow he forgot to say -anything about the intended visit to Inchbracken. In fact he meant to -make that alone, and he trusted to Peter's rheumatism lasting long -enough to prevent his wishing to accompany him. - - - - - CHAPTER XVII. - - _RODERICK_. - - -When Mary reached home she found her brother already in bed, where he -lay tossing uneasily in search of the rest and slumber which he could -not attain. - -His cheeks were flushed with incipient fever, and the tangled hair -hung about his face in matted locks. His eyes were closed, and his -lips moved in inaudible mutterings, as he turned restlessly from one -side to the other. He complained of an acute pain in his side which -caught his breath, and a dull aching that smouldered like fire in his -bones and joints, which he fancied he could count by their separate -twingings. - -The sight of his sister seemed to do him good, and when he felt the -coolness of her hand on his brow, he closed his eyes and fell into a -kind of slumber; but the sleep was not of very long duration, and it -was restless and disturbed. The nightmares of the night before fell on -him again; groaning and muttering he tossed to and fro, and presently -awoke. - -The surgeon arrived in due course, and shook his head gravely, while -he enjoined the greatest care, as pleurisy or rheumatic fever, or -both, appeared to be impending. Roderick lay and muttered, righting -with the dismal visions that floated like mists about his brain, and -struggling to keep hold of the reality. - -In that, however, he found little solace, it seemed more dismal than -aught a fevered fancy could conjure up to distress him. Visions of -Cain driven forth from home and kindred, to wander over the face of -the earth an outcast and a stranger; Abram sent forth to find him a -new home in a strange and unknown country, turning his back on all -that he had ever known or loved; Job with his children all slain in a -single hour; those who had cast away a right hand or plucked out a -right eye for the sake of the kingdom of righteousness; all the -forlorn and desolate and bereaved he had ever heard or dreamed of, -passed in melancholy procession before him, and hailed him as their -fellow. He looked upon the stricken train, and questioning each as to -the nature of his sorrow; it seemed to him that in their misery, they -all had justice or hope or consolation. But his? It stood alone among -them all, unmerited, unreasonable, without purpose and without pity. -There was nothing he had held too dear to part with, nothing he had -kept back, when he laid down all to follow his Church into the -wilderness. Then why had this new grief come upon him? and what good -end was to be served by enacting anew in his case the parable of the -prophet Nathan, and robbing him of the one ewe lamb he cherished in -his bosom? Since his boyhood, the whole pure love of his heart had -been given to Sophia. Her image had filled a shrine in his inmost -thoughts, and he had clothed it in all he knew of pure and holy, and -held it for a symbol of unseen good. He had waited till in all -reasonableness and truth he could win her for his wife, and she and -her parents, in some unspoken measure at least, had consented to his -resolve. - -Now, all of a sudden he hears from the lips of her own mother, wrung -from them, as it were unawares, under the dread pre-occupation of -impending danger, that another man's suit is entertained or courted, -and so utterly trivial are any pretensions of his held to be, that -their very existence is overlooked, and himself made the confidant of -the mother's views. Oh, how can he resign himself? How pluck away the -image around which all his hopes and dreams, the very roots and -tendrils of his being have entwined themselves for so many years? -Pluck out an eye? It were to pluck out his very heart, and cast it -from him--to cease to think--to cease to live. Yet if she were to -become another man's wife he would have to do it. He groaned. The -universe seemed falling in on him, his head swam, and he fell into a -dose. - -When he next awoke the emotional strain was somewhat relaxed. His -thoughts would run in no other channel, but he began now to muse, and -plan, and question. Was it indeed decided? Or was it as yet but a plan -of the mother? Had Sophia consented? And even if she had, was it of -her own free will, and with the concurrence of her affections? Or was -it a mere compliance with the wishes of her parents, while she had no -sufficient reason to admit a preference elsewhere? For the -unmaidenliness, as he would have called it, of loving unsought, was -not to be dreamed of in the case of Sophia. - -'Ah!' he cried aloud, 'Who knows? I have never spoken, or----' the -rest would not frame itself in words, but a vision arose before his -mind's eye, or rather many visions, remembrances of all the sweetest -and most endearing looks, or what he regarded as such, that she had -ever given him; and as he thought, his poor chilled soul grew warmer -and more at ease, and the throbbing in his head grew easier. - -'The venture is worth making,' he said presently. And thereupon he -rose from bed and sat down before his desk, which, as already -mentioned, was in another part of the same room. - -Mary was not present at the moment, so there was no one to offer -opposition. He drew to him some paper and prepared to write. His -mind had been seething with emotion, but as he took the pen in his -hand, the thoughts grew hazy, and refused to shape themselves in -words,---they refused to be written down. Fluttering and whirling -before him like the disordered gleams in a moving prism, they would -not be caught, and yet kept tantalizing him by settling upon his pen, -till he tried to write them, when they would dissipate again in a new -and perturbed whirl of tempestuous feeling. He clasped his hands upon -his aching brow, but it ached worse than ever, and he sat stupified in -blank despair. - -Words came after a while, and by and by he began to write, but the -writing when it was done had to be torn up, and the work begun again -anew. Sheet after sheet was written and destroyed, and the scattered -flakes gathered like snowdrifts about his chair. He wearied himself in -abortive efforts, but at least he deadened the acuteness of his -misery. The fantastic pains and throes of composition were an anodyne -to the more real agonies of his mind. By dividing its action in the -endeavour to express its workings, he reduced their intensity. As he -grew weary, therefore, he began to grow calmer, and was able with some -sort of coherence to say the thing he meant. It was no great -achievement in the way of a love-letter, but under the circumstances a -great achievement was impossible. He was too much under the direct -influence of his emotion,--whatever of mental force he had was -expended in the suffering, the jealousy, the hopelessness and the -longing, and but a fraction could be abstracted to express his -meaning. - -An emotion when it can be expressed is in a manner relegated from the -present to the past,--from experience to memory; and we may be sure -that the poets were pretty well cured of their woes, before they made -the world resound with their harrowing despairs and their plaintive -wailings. Goethe tells us he got quit of much perilous stuff in -writing Werther, but one can scarcely doubt that he was convalescent -before he undertook the task. Art is always fiction, though fiction is -so seldom art, and its nearest approach to actual veracity is when the -artist brings forth the ashes of bygone emotion from the sepulchre of -memory, and galvanizes them into a second life before his attentive -world. - -Such utterance as Roderick had been able to achieve had done him good. -The beads of moisture stood on his brow, as he folded and addressed -his letter; he directed that it should be given into Sophia's own -hands, and then returning to his bed, he closed his eyes with a long -sigh of relief, and fell into a peaceful sleep. - -The letter was as follows:-- - - -'My dear Sophia, - -'For this once I must so address you, even if it be permitted me to do -so never again. I am sick in bed, in consequence of yesterday's -misadventure, so unable to come to you myself and speak, and it has -come to my knowledge that an offer of marriage is already, or will -shortly be made to you, therefore I write. - -'I owe it to myself, that you should know before you have given an -answer, that I too desire you to look on me as your suitor. - -'I had meant to wait till after my ordination, but I cannot run the -risk of letting another man speak while I remain silent. - -'Oh, Sophia, I seem to have loved you ever since I saw you first--as -far back as I can recollect--since we were both children; and the love -has grown with the years till I believe I could not live if I saw you -married to another. That other may be rich, while I am not; but think, -Sophia,--he never saw you till the other day--and what can his love be -to mine, that has been growing and deepening through so many years? - -'Think of it, dearest. Have we not played together as children? sung -together as boy and girl? Have we not taken sweet counsel together as -christian man and woman? and shall we not walk through life as wife -and husband? - -'Think of it all, Sophia, and choose with the best wisdom you can -command. - -'My life will be a lonely journey, if it is not to be shared by you, -for you have been to me the symbol of all that is good and holy; but -if you find it is not I who can make you happy, at least my prayer -shall ever be for a blessing on whatever choice you make. - - 'Yours utterly,' - - '(Signed) RODERICK BROWN.' - - - - - CHAPTER XVIII. - - _THE DELIVERY OF A LETTER_. - - -It was the next day that Joseph Smiley set out to deliver the -minister's letter. His instructions were to give it into the hands of -Miss Sangster herself, if possible, or at least to make sure that it -went direct to her, and to ask if there was any answer. This was a -mission very much to Joseph's taste. Being a man of diplomatic genius, -he loved to attain his purposes by a circuitous path, and to go round -a corner rather than walk straight up to his object. - -There was once a minister of the Free Church, of whom a brother divine -declared in the bitterness of his soul,--for he had just been -circumvented in a cherished scheme,--that he never tied his shoe -without having some ulterior motive. If beadles may, without -irreverence, be compared with ministers--the very small with the -extremely great--Joseph's idiosyncracy was of a like kind. It was well -known that Mrs. Sangster's was an all-pervading presence at -Auchlippie; the very cat must drink her milk in the appointed time and -place, or the mistress would know why; and all comers and goers and -their business were bound to come within her ken. The house, the -dairy, the poultry-yard, these were her domain, but fortunately they -were also its limit. Queen irresponsible in these, her writ would not -run in the adjoining stable and farm-yard. The master had settled that -long ago. Good-natured and submissive in the house, he tolerated no -petticoat influence beyond its limits; and the mistress, after one or -two defeats in the attempt to extend her sway, had yielded long ago to -the insuperable, and dwelt at peace in her own kingdom. - -As Joseph neared Auchlippie, therefore, he crossed a field or two and -made a circuit, so as to approach it from the rear, with the farm-yard -to shelter him while he reconnoitred, and to retreat into in case he -was seen. He likewise carried under his arm his bag of tools, so that -if, later, the lady should come upon him, his errand might appear -manifest enough. There was always shelving to be put up or taken down, -doors that would not close, locks that would not open, and Joseph was -the man to see to it all. The work was well enough, indeed Joseph -preferred 'orra jobs,' as he called them, to steady work. The -variety amused him, and the sight of new faces, besides gossip, -drams, and sometimes a share of the kitchen dinner were among the -recommendations; but the pay at Auchlippie was not altogether -satisfactory. Mrs. Sangster preferred paying in kind to disbursing her -silver. Joseph would return home at night with an armful of old -clothes, serviceable enough, perhaps, but with the drawback attending -them, that he could never tell when his accounts were to be considered -square. The next time he did an 'orra job' at Auchlippie, he would be -reminded of the load of things he had carried away last time, and -given to understand that the present 'job' was to be looked upon as in -part working out the previous haul. - -For these reasons Joseph was not disposed to obtrude his services. He -now went quietly into the stable yard, and fell into chat with the lad -who was rubbing up the gig in which his master would shortly start for -a neighbouring market. He kept his eyes well open, and it was not long -before he descried a petticoat in the distance. It was certainly not -Sophia. A second look showed it to be Jean Macaulay, the kitchen-maid, -returning from the garden with a basketful of green stuff, and Jean, -he bethought him, was a very particular friend of his own, and he -might do a trifle of business for himself as well as fulfil his -commission. - -He vaulted lightly over a gate, and with three or four skips -intercepted Jean, just where the blind wall of the dairy intercepted -all view from the house. - -Here with his gayest smile he caught with both his hands----not -Jeanie, it was only her disengaged hand held out at arm's length; for -she had seen him in time, and laughed merrily in his face, while she -held her own well beyond his reach. - -Joseph had missed his chance of a salute, and had to content himself -with a salutation. - -'Haud awa! ye caperin' antic!' she cried, 'an' behave yersel' afore -folk. Yonder's Jock Spiers e'y yaird! Lay, by! An' what brings _you_ -about the town at this time o' day, my mannie?' - -'What wad it be, Jean, but yer ain sonsie face? I'm aye thinkin' o' -ye, whan I canna see ye! I canna lie quiet i' my lane bed, lassie, for -the thocht o' ye! Sae here I am.' - -'Awa, ye leein' haveril! Do you tak me for a fule, to think ye're to -blaw the stour i' my e'en that gate? Lay by, now! (Joseph had become -demonstrative again), or I'll gie ye a gouff i' the lug'll gar't -stound the next half-hour! An' I canna be claverin' here a' day. Awa -wi' ye!' and she caught up her basket. - -'What ails ye, lass? Winna ye bide a wee? It's no often a body gets ye -yer lane for a crack. Bide a wee!' - -'I canna bide, man, ey noo! Gin the mistress comes ben an' dizna find -the pat on the fire; I'se get my kale through the reek, I'se warrant -ye!' - -'Here, than, Jean! Here's a letter frae the minister to Miss Sophia. -An' ye maun gie't to naebody but her ain-sel'. I'se be hingin' round -here-awa, an' ye maun fesh back the answer belive. Winna ye, noo, -lass?' - -'We'll see,' said Jean moving off; 'she was bakin' pies whan I gaed -out, gin she hae na gaen butt the house, I'se gie her't. Ye'll be here -whan I come out? For I'll no can bide lang.' And folding the letter in -her apron she hastened into the house. - -Sophia was still in the kitchen, giving the last ornamental touches to -her pies, when the letter was brought her. - -'From Glen Effick, eh? A note from Mary Brown I suppose. And an answer -is wanted? very well.' She slipped it into her pocket, and retired to -her room to read it at her leisure. - -No one could have been more surprised than was Sophia at the contents -of that letter, and the earnestness and solemnity with which they were -expressed. She had never received a love-letter in her life, and had -some indistinct idea from what her mother had occasionally said, that -the subject was scarcely a proper one in real life. It was something -that was to be read about in books, especially in poetry books and -tales, but of these she had not read many. Her mother considered them -relaxing to the mind, except when they were of a theological cast, and -refrained from such frivolities as love scenes; the biographies of -serious people, in fact, had been the staple of her reading. - -She had been accustomed to look forward to a time when she would be -married, but the aspect in which the change of state had chiefly -presented itself to her mind had been the being mistress of a house of -her own. From the time Mr. Wallowby had been expected to visit them, -her mother had spoken to her of the possibility of his wishing to -marry her, and of the wealthy and distinguished position she would in -that case be called on to fill. She had thought of it as something -that would be very nice if it took place, though also rather -formidable, and wondered if it would feel very strange and -uncomfortable at first; but it had never presented itself to her as a -thing which she was to make any effort to gain, or that it was a -matter in regard to which she would be called on to exercise any -independent choice. Her parents had arranged everything for her -hitherto, and knew what was best and most proper. They had sent her to -school, and decided what she was to study there, and she had studied -it accordingly. In the proper time they would arrange for her being -married, and it would be for her to fill as she best could the -position they might decide on as best for her. - -And yet Sophia was not a person without character or full -average'intelligence, as no doubt some day would be made manifest -enough, when at length her individuality should waken up and assert -itself. It was only that she had lived in retirement, and been 'very -carefully brought up,' that is to say, in an especially narrow and -artificial groove, that she was slow and quiescent herself, and had an -unusually energetic and masterful mother. - -As regarded Roderick, she liked him very much for a friend, better -than her own brother Peter, because he was kinder and more attentive -to her, and better than his sister Mary, the only other person she had -known equally long, because she was 'only a girl;' but that Roderick -should feel for her anything so different from this tepid friendship, -was something beyond her comprehension. She read the letter again, a -third time, and even a fourth, utterly bewildered by its earnestness, -and finally unable to make anything of it all, she carried it to her -mother. - -Mrs. Sangster opened her eyes in surprise. Had a letter reached an -inmate of her castle without her knowledge? Had her daughter received -one without its passing under her censorship? What were things coming -to? She took the letter and put on her glasses. - -'From? Roderick Brown! as I'm a christian woman! And what? I do -declare--a love-letter! Oh----!!' Many indignant thoughts swept wildly -through her soul, many words hurried to her lips. 'The serpent!' But -at the sound of her own voice, she paused. Her daughter knew nothing, -no one had ever dared to sully her pure ear with such a tale; and -should her mother's be the hand to rend the veil of innocency, and let -in the sad knowledge that there is evil in the world? She could not. -And yet she must say something, if only to cover her discomposure. - -'And has it come to this, that a daughter of mine has actually -received a love-letter! You! Sophia Sangster! what kind of conduct do -you practise, that a libert---- a----young man feels encouraged to write -you a love letter, and make you a proposal? Where has been your -maidenliness? Your common sense of propriety? When I was a young -woman, no man breathing would have presumed to write about love to -me!' - -'Mamma! I have done nothing. The letter is as great a surprise to me -as it can be to you!' - -'But you _ought_ to have done something. If you had behaved with -becoming propriety and decorum, he never would have had the courage to -write. But you never had proper spirit! Go to your room, Miss!' - -Sophia withdrew in open-eyed amazement. She was not prone to tears, -and under long habitude had become somewhat callous to strong -language. Her mother's ebulition merely added an accession to the -bewilderment Roderick's letter was already occasioning her. Other -girls in the parish had been married, and it seemed to her, that, -somehow, their bridegrooms must have spoken or written to express -their wishes, else how came they to be known? and none of these had -been more frequent visitors at the homes of their future brides, than -had Roderick been at her father's. The imputation of unmaidenliness, -then, had been only one of her mother's tantrums, things she had been -used to all her life, and knew to contain more noise than mischief. -She must not return an answer to the letter--that seemed all the -outburst meant, and it was rather a relief to her to think so, for, to -tell the truth, she would not have known what to say. Roderick's grave -and sacramental way of putting the matter, seemed to make any light -and ordinary answer akin to blasphemy, and how otherwise was one to -answer, where feelings were barely up to the level of commonplace? So -she sat herself down with her hands in her lap, and thought afresh -over her remarkable letter. - -Mrs. Sangster walked up and down her room, 'frying,' as her cook would -have said, with indignation, at this abandoned young man, who, steeped -in iniquity, had yet dared to raise his eyes to her dovecot. She would -have liked to hound him through every court of the Church, and to let -loose every cur in the parish at his heels; but after what Mr. -Sangster had said about actions for libels, and the Court of Session, -there was no use thinking of that. She stamped her foot in her -impatience, and anon wiped her eyes, as she thought of the pathetic -helplessness of her gentle and interesting sex. No notice should be -taken of the letter; that was as much as she could venture on. But how -had it come? That was worth knowing. - -Repairing to the kitchen, she learned that the minister's man who -brought it was still hanging about the premises. Then thinking to pump -him more conveniently, she bethought her of a new shelf for the -store-room, and sent for Joseph to give him the order. He appeared, -but with no great show of alacrity, and it was not till he had heard -orders given for his subsequent refreshment, and had actually fingered -the lady's coin, that he began to show something like interest. - -'And what's the news in Glen Effick, Joseph?' - -'No muckle, mem. Tarn Jamieson's coo's gotten a cauf. I'm thinkin' -that's about a'.' - -'And your master the minister? No news about him?' - -'Weel mem, he's lyin' sin' yester mornin', whan he cam hame frae -Gortonside. But I'm thinkin' ye ken better about that nor me. Folk -says ye an' him got a terrible dookin' e'y burn, up by on Findochart. -An' gin it hadna been for him ye'd ne'er hae gotten out ava, mem. An' -noo it's a' ower, the folk says he's like to dee o't.' - -'Indeed, we had a most trying time, Joseph, and have much cause for -thankfulness, in having escaped as we did, and I hope Mr. Brown's -illness will not prove serious. But, tell me, are there no reports or -rumours about him circulating in the village?' - -'I kenna what ye're drivin' at, mem, I'm sure.' - -'There is, then, nothing stirring down the Glen at all?' - -'I ken o' naething, mem.' - -'Widow Tirpie's girl has come home again I hear, and looks poorly.' -Joseph started slightly, and glanced suspiciously under his eyelids, -but he answered impassively enough. - -'I heard sae, mem, but I haena seen her mysel.' - -'And is nobody's name associated in the village with that?' Joseph, in -his discomposure, missed his hammer stroke, and gave himself a severe -rap on the thumb, which with a gulp he transferred to his mouth. - -'I'm no sure 'at I guess what ye're drivin' at, mem.' - -'And about her child?' continued Mrs. Sangster, still intent on -learning something. - -'I ne'er heard tell that she had ane,' said Joseph, waxing more and -more uneasy. - -'Do the people ever remark a likeness between her and the baby Miss -Brown has adopted, for instance?' - -Joseph turned round and looked Mrs. Sangster in the face; he felt -relieved he was safe, but he was also astonished. - -'I hae na heard ony body speakin' that gate; an' gin I micht mak sae -free, mem, do you see ony yersel?' - -'You are a canny man, Joseph, but I think the more of you for it. It -would not do for you to be disclosing your master's secrets, but you -must remember you are the servant of the church as well, and that she -has the highest claim on your fidelity, and I don't mind saying to you -that I see a very remarkable resemblance, notwithstanding that the -eyes are of a different colour, and the hair fair instead of dark. -That's what makes it so remarkable! The features are all different, -there is nothing that can be set aside as a mere accidental -coincidence, and yet the likeness is so manifest to me! Do you really -mean that nobody in the village has noticed it?' - -'Deed, mem, an' I hae na juist heard quite sae muckle as that. But ye -see we're plenn folk down by, an' maun look til our betters for -guidance, whiles?' - -'Very true. But what are they saying about it all?' - -'I hae telled ye a' I ken, mem, an' that's naething.' - -'And what do you think yourself, then, of all these rumours and -suspicions that are flying about? Can it really be possible that Mr. -Brown is the father of that infant, do you think?' - -'God forbid, mem, that our young minister suld hae sae far fa'en frae -grace! I wad houp for the best! But it's an auld an' true sayin', that -there's aye water whaur the stirk's drooned, an we ken oursels there's -nae reek but whaur there's burnin'.' - -But come now, Joseph, is not Mr. Brown constantly going to see those -women after dark? And does he not give them a great deal of money?' - -'He's been there, mem, I ken, but he gangs to a' body; it's his wark. -An' he's gien them siller, but he's aye doin' that as weel, whan he -thinks folk want it. I see na weel 'at that need tell against him. -Hooever, as ye say yersel', the suspeecion wad na licht, athout some -grund. It's a bad job.' - - - - - CHAPTER XIX. - - _SUBORNATION OF PERJURY_. - - -It was late in the afternoon when Joseph started homewards. He had -spent a cheerful day, and was in the best of spirits. The servants at -Auchlippie had been most hospitable, and his friend Jean assiduous in -replenishing his cog from the kitchen beer-barrel; she had been gay -and saucy in the extreme, and her dexterity with tongue and fist, -whenever he went beyond the permitted limit, had excited his sincere -respect and admiration. - -'A clever cummer 'at can haud her ain wi' the next ane! An' hech, but -she's gleg!' was Joseph's admiring soliloquy, as he tramped down the -road. - -'She's gotten a pose e'y bank, an' her granny's a bien auld body, wi' -naebody else to leave her gear til,' he continued, 'wha kens?' but -here the soliloquy died into deeper reflection, and he tramped along -in meditative silence. How comfortable and respected he might be, -established in the granny's croft, as master, with Jean to minister to -him and keep things brisk, with an occasional passage of wordy -warfare. But the shadow of Tibbie rose in his mind and blocked the -path. She would forbid the banns and involve his schemes in utter -confusion, unless she could be quieted. - -He thought over his conversation with Mrs. Sangster. Oh! If Tibbie had -only been there to hear it too! Some idea might have struck her, that -would have induced her to loosen her hold on him, and try for higher -game. We can but judge others by ourselves, and he knew that with -himself an arithmetical consideration was the weightiest that could be -presented, and that a pretext by which pounds might be extorted -unjustly, would seem more attractive than an honest claim which could -only be realized in shillings and pence. If she would only slacken her -hold on him for a very little while, he thought he could manage that -she should never renew it again. - -So reflecting, he reached home. It was Saturday evening, and there -were the usual preparations to make on the braeside for the services -of the morrow, and thither he now repaired. - -The evening's shadows were gathering round the tent, and creeping up -the brae--sad and transparent like ghosts of the good resolutions -begotten there last Sunday, and since then smothered and trampled to -death in the hurry and busy turmoil of the world's life; or so they -might have appeared had any pious and pensive soul been there to -witness them, but there were none such. Only Tibbie Tirpie rose from -the tent or pulpit steps, to confront Joseph as he approached key in -hand. - -'Tibbie? Hoo's a' wi' ye, woman? A sicht o' ye's gude for sair e'eri.' -It's lang sin' we hae forgathered.' - -'Juist sin' last Sawbith! An' ye hae na dune as ye said ye wad, -yet--sae the langer time the mair shame to ye.' - -'Ye canna weel say that noo, Tibbie! come! I said I wad speak t'ey -minister for ye, an' there's naebody e'y clachan but kens he gied ye -siller. Was na that keepin' tryst?' - -'What kind o' a gowk do ye tak me for, Joseph Smiley? Think ye ye'r to -slip through my fingers that gate? Ye ken brawly it's no the -minister's siller I'm seekin', it's yours, an yersel' alang wi't. An' -that I'se hae, an gin ye winna richt my lassie by fair means, I'se -gang to Mester Sangster an' the minister an' shame ye, an that'll be -the last o' yer bederalship, an' the end o' ye a' thegither round Glen -Effick. Think ye I'll let ye aff o' the scathe, when my puir Tib has -to thole the scorn?' - -'Whisht woman! yer tongue's rinnin' awa wi' ye. Gin yell juist ca' -canny, an' do biddin', ye'se do far mair for Tibbie nor I cud. Ye see, -Luckie, I'm juist as ane micht say, naething but a puir earthen -vessel, no gude for muckle, wi' nae gear, an' sma' wut to gather't -wi'. What wad ye say noo til a gentleman for Tib? It's what the lassie -ocht to hae gotten wi' her bonnie face, an' gin what a' the folk says -was true, belike she'd get ane.' - -'I kenna what ye're drivin' at, my man, but gin ye're gaun to send me -on a fule's errand, an' sae gar me let ye aff, ye're sair mistaen; an' -gin ye come na in whiles as ye gang by an' gie the lass her dues o' -coortin', fair out afore folk, I'se gang down til auld MacSiccar, an' -he'll hae ye up afore the Shirra, or I'm mistaen, an' syne yell ken -whether a law plea or a waddin' taks maist siller, an' aiblins ye'll -hae to wive wi' her a' the same.' - -'But hoo wid ye like the minister e'y stead o' the bederal? wadna that -be something worth while? The folk thinks that's the richts o't a' e'y -noo. An' gin ye'll juist haud them on their ain gate, an' keep yer ain -jaws steekit--wha kens? A minister wad wed wi' the Deil's ain--dochter -afore he'd hae himsel' or the Kirk misca'd. The folk says yon's -Tibbie's bairn he taks tent on, doon by, an' what for need ye fash to -deny't? gin the wein cam out o' the sea he'll can bring nae pruif, an' -the folk hae taen't i' their heids to think the ither thing, sae gin -ye wad juist threip the same gate aiblins ye'd get yer way o't.' - -'The Lord forgie ye, Joseph Smiley, for a blackhearted, twa-faced -vagabond! Ye ken weel what a gude maister the minister's been to you, -an' ye wad turn round an' gar me lee awa his gude name! But tak ye -tent! There was ance anither, gaed to betray a gude master, for the -sake o' what he'd mak out o't, an' he gaed an' hanged himsel' afore a' -was done--Wha kens? The hemp may be baith sawn an' pued 'at's to mak -yer ain grawvit! An' noo I gie ye fair warnin', gin ye come-na by -afore Wednesday, I'se gang til auld MacSiccar; sae nae mair o' yer -parryin'.' And with a portentous shake of the head she departed. - -Joseph was little discomposed; he could hardly expect so startling a -proposal to be received otherwise than with indignation, and yet, as -by an off chance, it might bear fruit after all. The evil seed just -scattered wanted time to germinate, some corner of her mind might yet -prove to be a congenial soil, and it might spring up yet in a crop of -lies to serve his turn. - -Returning home he came upon Ebenezer Prittie, merchant and postmaster, -and one of the elders of the church. Ebenezer was a quiet plain man -and zealous,--all his life he had heard of the Covenanters, their -heroism and their sufferings, and had been taught to think of them as -the summit and flower of his country's glory. He felt it to be a -privilege to be admitted to their sacred brotherhood, through being a -member and office-bearer of the Free Church, and his only misgiving -was on account of the exceeding ease of the process, and its -cheapness--an entering as it were on the privileges attached to the -martyr's crown, at half price. Fighting wild beasts at Ephesus, -wielding the sword of the Lord and of Gideon at Drumclog, escaping -through the hill mists of the morning from the pursuing troopers of -Claverhouse,--to be made heir to, and sharer in, all those deeds of -heroism by paying the modern equivalent of so much self-sacrifice, -contributing a penny a week to the Sustentation Fund, and sundry -moderate payments to the schemes of the church, was cheap indeed. The -ministers said so, of course they knew, and why was he to object -because the burden was light? He could but support his church all the -more warmly if its yoke was easy, and he would do his very best for -its advancement. - -Rumours about strange conduct on the part of the minister had begun to -sift and whisper through the village. With whom they had originated no -one could say; known circumstances were appealed to in corroboration, -and every one shook his head; but there was no one who stood forward -as accuser, and each seemed afraid of the sound of his own voice, in -uttering the first word against their hitherto blameless pastor. - -Ebenezer having shut up the Post Office had walked along the road to -breathe the evening air before retiring for the night. He mused over -the rumour as he went, and when Joseph, returning from the 'tent' -appeared before him, it was but natural that the subject in his -thoughts should come first to his lips. - -'What's a' this clashin' about? Joseph Smiley. Ye beut to ken.' - -'What clashes, Mester Prittie? Folk wull be aye claverin' ye ken. An' -them 'at kens least has aye maist to say about it. For mysel' it taks -a' my sma' wuts to mind my ain business.' - -'Nae doubt, Joseph, we a' ken ye for a dacent man, an' a quiet; but a -body canna keep a calm sough a' thegither in sic like on-gaein's as -we're hearing tell o' noo. An' a body has aye their lugs, whether or -no.' - -'I hae heard tell o' naething, Mester Prittie; but than, ye see, I'm -but an orra body rinnin' efter my ain bit trokes, a' round the -countryside; an' ye're sittin' yonder e'y middle o' a' thing--the -Queen's mails brocht in twice ilka day, an' a' body 'at's onybody -rinnin' to ye for their letters. Ye're sure to ken a thing 'at gangs -on.' - -We a' ken ye for a dacent, carefu' spoken chield, weel eneugh, Joseph, -sae ye needna be aye mindin' folk o't. An' losh! What gars ye be sae -terrible mim? There's a time to keep yer jaws steekit, we a' ken that, -but there's a time to let on as weel! Sae out wi't a' man!' - -'Ye maun out wi't yersel, Mester Prittie! For De'il tak me, (but the -Lord forgie me for swearin'! tho' efter a' it's but the De'il's name -I'm makin' a bauchil o',) gin I ken what ye're efter, wi' yer winkin's -an' yer hirselin's o' the shouther. Juist say what's yer wull, Mester -Prittie, an' gin a puir chield can pleesure ye I'se do't. Aye -premeesin' ye ken, 'at it's the thing a gude christian an' an honest -man may lawfully perform.' - -'Ou ay! A' lawfu' eneugh, Joseph! What tak ye me for, laddie? gin the -Queen can lippen to me about her mails, it's surely a' safe for Joseph -Smiley wi' his bits o' trokes and clashes. But come in by!' Ebenezer -had turned round on accosting Joseph, and had been retracing his steps -ever since. They were now in front of the Post Office, and Ebenezer -unlocking the door invited Joseph to enter, that they might finish -their conversation without fear of interruption.' - -'An' noo, Joseph, what's a' about the minister? an' what hae ye to say -ower't?' - -'What about the minister?--forby 'at he has the cauld? Mistress -Sangster fell in a burn, an' he beut to pu' her out; an' she bein' a -muckle denty wife, an' rael hefty, he coupet in himsel an' got sair -droukit, an' noo he's lyin' wi' the cauld. I see sma' grundlfor -clashes there.' - -Hoot! ye're no sae simple as ye wad let on! An' it diz na look weel o' -ye, Joseph, bein' sae terrible keen to gar folk think ye ken naething. -Ye'll hae them jalousin' ye had a finger intil't yersel, my man. Wha's -acht yon bairn o' the minister's?' - -'I ken naething mair about it nor ither folk! Ye ken as weel as me -what he said about it himsel'.' - -'An' do ye ken 'at folk says it's Tibbie Tirpie's bairn, an' that he's -its faither?' - -I hae heard tell 'at folk was sayin' that; but we a' ken there's folk -e'y warld wad say onything, an' the dafter it was, the mair they'd -haud til't. Do ye believe it yersel', Mester Prittie?' - -Weel! that's juist what I dinna ken! Whiles, whan I think o' a' the -minister has dune an' come through, I canna believe it ava'; but than, -what a' body says maun hae something intil 't, an' they hae sae mony -sma' things to lay thegither, a body canna weel help misdoubtin' but -there may be something intil 't. An' ye ken, efter a', the flesh is -but wake!' - -'Hech sirse, ay! rael wake,' sighed Joseph, with a most melancholy -swing of the head. 'Rael wake! we hae Scriptur for that. The apostle -himself fand the evil praisent with him, whan he maist wanted to do -gude, an' _he_ was gude by ordnar. It's little winder gin the lave -gangs wrang whiles. It's juist a dispensation, as ane micht say, or a -kind o' warnin' to folk no to be ower sure an' sotten up i' their ain -gudeness. Weel I wat we're wake craiters!' - -'But what think ye o't, Joseph? Ye're a man o' sense, an' I'd like til -hear yer opeenion.' - -'A weel, Mr. Prittie, I'm juist like yersel', I dinna weel ken what to -think. I've fand him a gude maister, an' he's a fine preacher, an' a' -the Hieland folk says he has the Gaelic juist graund, an' he's rael -gude to a' body 'at's needin'; but as ye say yersel', the flesh is -wake.' - -'An' ye see,' said Ebenezer, 'it's sing'lar whan ye pet that an' that -thegither, the way it a' fits in. Peter Malloch telled me 'at auld -Tibbie Tirpie brocht in a pound note o' the Peterhead Bank the verra -day efter he seed the minister slinkin' oot o' her door efter dark, -an' we a' ken naebody passes thae notes here ava, but him. I'm fear'd, -Joseph, there's something intil 't. An' hoo cud it come intil a' -body's head at ae time, gin there wasna some foundation?' - -'Lordsake, ay, Mester Prittie! There's aye water whaur the stirk's -drooned, we a' ken that, an' there's nae reek athout burnin'. But is -na't a' terrible? Sic a fine young minister! an' sic doon-come t'ey -Kirk! Ickeybod! Ickeybod! wae's me!' - -'Na, na. There maun be nae Ickeybod! An' nae wite te'y Kirk. Ilka -sinner maun bear his ain laid, an' Auchan maun be peuten furth frae -the congregation o' the Lord. We maun hae't a' up afore the session! -an' Joseph, ye'll hae til appear, an' testifee til a' ye ken. We beut -to hae this Babylonish gaarment cousten out e'y camp!' - -'Preserve us a'! Mester Prittie, it's you 'at beut to testifee; ye ken -a' about it, I ken naething.' - -'Wha said Ickeybod ey noo? Was that me? An' what meaned ye by't, gin -ye winna staund to yer word?' - -'An' wad ye hae me say Ickeybod to the Kirk Session? An' what wad I -say syne? I cud say what ye telled me, Mester Prittie, 'at ye thocht -the lassie Tirpie was the mither o' the minister's bairn, but I ken -naething mysel'.' - -'An' what for wad ye pu' me intil't a'?' - -'It was ye telled me, Mester Prittie; noo wha telled you?' - -'Faigs an' that's mair nor I ken mysel'. We maun hae a quiet meetin' -o' the session, an' gang ower't a' first, an' aiblins we'll ken what -to do syne; for there's nae man of Belil sall sit e'y tabernacle gin I -can pu' him doon.' - -'An ye, hae raison, Mester Prittie! Pu' doon their high places, an' -burn their groves wi' fire. It's a' Scriptur an' sound doctrine. But -I'm sayin', sir, hae ye been round to speer for the minister the day? -An' hoo are ye gaun to manage for the morn's Kirk?' - -'Weel I wat, an' ye hae me there, Joseph. Ye see I juist cudna bring -mysel' to gang an' be speerin' for a man whan the folk says he's -livin' in open sin. There's nae tellin' what micht come til the skirts -o' my ain garment! as ye were sayin' e'y noo, the folk's that set on -their reports an' their rumours, there's nae kennin' whaur the next -flee may licht; an'--Lord! they micht hae a body's sel' kirned up wi't -a'! An' then! think o' me to be taen by the folk for an ill liver. -Spoken o' for keepin' company wi' the evil men an' seducers 'at wax -worse an' worse, as the word says. An' gin I gaed hame syne, the wife -wad be for pu'in the wig aff my cantle, an' layin' the spurtle about -my bare lugs; for she's no for prankin' wi' that gate, _my_ mistress! -A gude wummin I'll allow, a' the same, but juist terrible on a' ill -doin, an' licht on-gaein's. But we maun hae a thocht to the services -o' the Sanctuary the morn, an' no hae the folk comin' to the ministry -o' the word, an' nae banquet ready for their hungry sauls. We'd hae -them stravaigin' the braesides the lieve lang Sawbith day, like puir -menseless sheep that hae na gotten a shepherd. Sae, gin ye'll come wi' -me, for fear o' pryin eyen, we'se gang round an' see hoo we'll -arrange.' - -'As they sallied forth they encountered Peter Malloch taking his -evening stroll. For once Ebenezer was well pleased at the meeting, and -resolved that Peter too should accompany them, and be another witness -to the conservation undefiled of his skirts--a purely poetical figure -by the way, for he wore a sort of jacket, his wife and tailoress being -economical of cloth. The article of dress was, in fact, that which his -betters of an earlier generation were wont to denominate a spencer. - -It required no pressing to secure Peter's company. He scented -promotion in being thus associated with one of the eldership, in -church business, and it seemed a first step upwards from the Deacons' -Court to the sacred college of the Kirk-session. Under other -circumstances this honour would have been carefully withheld, for -Peter's popularity among the church officers was not great. To use -Ebenezer's own words on another occasion, 'He's a gude man, an' a -leeberal, but oh! he's a meddlin' body.' Ebenezer's skirts, however, -were uppermost in his thoughts then, and their invisible folds -sufficed to cover many an objection from his view. - -Reaching the minister's door, they found Miss Brown in the act of -dismissing the surgeon. Her brother had at last fallen asleep with the -assistance of an opiate, and he was not on any pretext whatever, so -said the Doctor, to be disturbed. Miss Brown led them into Eppie -Ness's apartment, where that good soul was sitting with the baby in -her arms. - -Ebenezer regarded the poor child fixedly, and gasped in his -indignation. How could he think, or arrange for the ministrations of -the sanctuary in the very presence of that child of confusion? His -brow darkened, and no one can guess what eloquent utterance he might -not have given forth, if Mary Brown with her pleasant smile, had not -pointed to a chair for him to sit down, and asked what arrangements he -proposed to make for the church supply on the morrow. - -As when, on the aching head of a fevered invalid buzzing with a -thousand delirious fancies, a cool soft hand is laid, banishing uneasy -nightmares, and bringing back the patient to waking common sense, even -so the innocent friendliness of Mary's glance dissipated the whole -swarm of crazy suspicions for the moment, and brought Ebenezer's -thoughts back to their wonted wholesome tenor; and though the little -thing crowed in its nurse's arms more than once, he forgot about its -being perhaps an imp, or at any rate something unholy, and would even -have admitted in words that it was a 'bonny bairn,' but that Peter -Malloch sat at his elbow. - -The minister had been looking to see some of his elders all the -afternoon, and in the end had jotted down on paper his desire that Mr. -Sangster, Mr. Prittie, and another of the elders should each give a -prayer, and that Ebenezer should read to the people a chapter of the -Saints' Rest, as a substitute for the usual sermon, and call a meeting -of the Session and Deacons' Court for Monday evening. There was no -business therefore to transact, Joseph was despatched to Auchlippie -with the message for Mr. Sangster, and the others withdrew. - -Ebenezer felt relieved when he was once more in the open air and there -was no further possibility of an interview with the minister, for he -had thought it would be but right, and accordingly had screwed up his -courage to say a word in season if the opportunity should occur. At -the same time he was full of dread as to how it would be taken; indeed -he could conceive of no possible way in which it could be taken that -would not be unpleasant, and therefore he felt positively rejoiced -when the danger was past. Nothing disagreeable had happened, and yet -he could stand up boldly before his conscience, as one who had not -shirked a duty however painful; and when, in the privacy of his home, -he went over the events of the day, he was indeed a proud man under -the praises which that incarnate conscience, the wife of his bosom, -bestowed upon her steadfast and faithful Ebenezer. - - - - - CHAPTER XX. - - _IN A SICK ROOM_. - - -When Roderick had written his letter he fell into a long and deep -sleep, and it was daylight before he awoke. He was calmer in mind than -he had been since he was taken ill, but it was the stillness of -exhaustion. His fevered thoughts had been labouring up and down a -never-ending gamut of feeling, like a prisoner tramping hopelessly up -a revolving wheel, ever the same mountain of misery and despair rising -before him, toil to surmount it as he might. He had climbed and -climbed unceasingly--purposeless and hopeless, unable to stop, till at -length, worn out, he had, as it were, fallen back in complete -prostration. His waking was like that of one who has fallen from a -height--stunned, the returning of far-ebbed consciousness was slow, -and he would, if he could, have pushed it back again, and returned to -oblivion. - -He closed his eyes and turned from the light, courting the retreating -footsteps of beneficent sleep, but that gentle healer refused to be -detained, and he was awake. By-and-by he saw his letter carried away -to its address, and he set himself to wait patiently for the return of -his messenger, some time in the afternoon. - -The rheumatic symptoms which had added greatly to his unrest, the day -before, were abated, and his medical adviser expressed strong hope of -being able to remove them altogether; but the distress in his chest -had increased, his breathing was laboured and painful, threatening to -develop into a serious attack. - -The surgeon looked round the room, it was not a promising sick-room -for an affection of the lungs. The walls, where they could be seen -behind the book shelves, were stained with moisture; there was the -cold earthen floor beneath the carpet, and a pervading flavour of -mouldy dampness through the room, which seemed to grow only more -perceptible when more fuel was piled on the hearth. When the weather -was dry the windows could be opened, and with the help of a bright -fire, a moderately sweet atmosphere could be obtained after a time; -but whenever rain without necessitated the closing of the windows, the -stuffy savour of mouldiness again took possession of the place. - -Roderick lay and waited. He tried to read, but his eyes soon grew -weary, and his thoughts would not fix themselves on the page, though -he tried one book after another. It pained his chest to converse, and -he could only possess his soul in patience, and wait Joseph's return. - -But Joseph came not. Noon passed, the shadows crept round and -lengthened, but still no sign. It might be that Sophia required time -to consider his letter. In that there was at least this much of hope, -that if she had become engaged to the Englishman there would have been -no occasion for her to delay in saying so. He grew restless as the -afternoon advanced, and by evening was so flushed and increasingly -feverish that they gave him a composing draught, and so got him to -sleep. - -In the morning he was dull and stupid for some hours, but gradually -the fumes of the night's potion dissipated. His first enquiry was what -letters or messages had come. There had been none. It seemed strange -that no member or office-bearer of his hitherto attached flock should -have come near him. Some of the more remote and scattered would not -know, but it was strange the villagers should hold aloof. Could they -have imagined that his illness might be infectious? and yet they were -not wont thus to avoid contagion. The very elders, part of whose duty -it was to visit the sick, had kept away; and although they might have -been expected to take some interest in seeing the pulpit filled, they -yet had allowed Saturday to pass without coming near him. Even Mr. -Sangster, the presiding elder had not come, although the illness had -been brought on in attending upon his wife, and he must have known all -about it. He would know also of the letter to Sophia. Could it be on -account of that that he did not come? Yet why? If he had other views -for the settlement of his daughter, why did he not say so? The silence -was getting unbearable. - -Sunday proved to be rainy, greatly to Mrs. Sangster's relief. She -availed herself of the excuse to remain at home, her son and daughter -were both laid up with severe colds, and Mr. Wallowby was not inclined -to get himself wet. Mr. Sangster was therefore the sole occupant of -the phaeton, and he did not reach the village till the church hour had -arrived, and he had to hasten straight to the tent. There, with the -associates Roderick had named, he did his best to extemporize some -resemblance to a church service to the few shepherds (proof to rain -and tempest) and old women crouching under umbrellas, who alone, -defying the elements, had assembled as usual for their weekly meal of -doctrine. - -The diet of public worship was got over as speedily as possible, and -at the conclusion a few parishioners knocked in passing to enquire -after the minister's health. They were so few, however, as to excite -the surprise of Mary, as well as her brother, and there had been no -elder or deacon among them. - -In the end Mr. Sangster did appear, he was admitted to the sick-room, -and manifested the most cordial sympathy in Roderick's illness. He -explained that the previous day being a market in a neighbouring town, -he had gone thither, and had only got home a few minutes before -Roderick's message, requesting him to assist at public worship, had -been delivered. - -He returned the heartiest thanks for Roderick's care of his wife, and -was in every way as friendly as possible, but he made no allusion to -the letter to Sophia or to the proposal which it contained, which is -not remarkable seeing he had not heard of it. - -Roderick lay and listened. The free and friendly tone did not look as -if his suit had been received unfavourably, and yet it was alluded to -in no way whatever. He gathered courage at last to enquire for Sophia, -and was answered that she was laid up with a severe cold, but the -manner of the reply was the most simple and ordinary, and showed no -sign of an idea that more could be meant by the enquirer than met the -ear. - -Roderick inferred that the old man was favourable to his suit, and -that the young lady was taking time to make up her mind. For the -moment, therefore, his hopes rose, his mind grew easier, his body more -at rest, and he spent a calmer evening and night than the preceding. - -On Monday morning he was very hopeful. She had had a long Sunday -undisturbed by the possibility of doing anything else, for it had -rained steadily, to reflect on his petition, and she must surely -return him an answer to-day. - -Neither message, letter, or visitor appeared, however. 'Ah well,' he -concluded at last, 'her father will no doubt bring it with him in the -evening, when he comes to be present at the meeting of Session.' - -The evening came. Roderick's study had been transferred as far as -possible into a fitting meeting-place. The screen which closed off his -sleeping corner from the room was removed, the writing table and books -moved aside as well as might be, and a dozen chairs or more arranged -in front of his bed. - -The clock over the fireplace marked the quarter to seven, but no one -came. It seemed strange that all that day no one should have come to -see him. He had lived in the completest harmony with his people, and -when in health had had some one always dropping in for a 'crack,' so -that it had often been difficult for him to secure the privacy -necessary to prepare his sermons. The sudden change was altogether -inexplicable to him. Every one seemed to stand aloof, and he seemed to -be put under a taboo by the entire population of the glen. - -Mary went to the window. No one appeared to be coming, she then went -to the door, but the village street was deserted save by a few grimy -children tumbling in the gutter. Looking across the road, however, -where a lane ran down to the waterside, she descried one or two -figures standing. They stood well up to the wall of a house and were -nearly hidden from where she stood. Indeed she would have supposed -they were actually hiding themselves there and watching, but that she -could imagine no possible reason for such a proceeding. - -While she stood looking, Peter Malloch came out of his door and walked -towards her. Here at any rate was one man coming to the meeting. It -was getting late, but then the village time would get astray -sometimes. It depended on the watch of the stage coach guard, a not -very accurate timekeeper, as its hands would sometimes be moved twenty -minutes forward or half an hour back that the coach might arrive at -its different stages in time, whereby its internal economy would -become deranged, and it would be sent for a fortnight to recruit at -the watchmaker's. - -Farther down the street she now descried Ebenezer Prittie. No doubt it -was the clocks which were to blame. But no! When Peter Malloch reached -the corner of the lane, he stopped short for an instant, and then -hastily turned down it and disappeared. Ebenezer marched steadily -along till he came to the same point, but then he also stopped and -straightway vanished, like the other. What could it mean? Roderick was -restless and very ill. It would require all his strength to get -through the proceedings in the quietest way possible, and she could -not think of fretting him, neither could she say anything to Eppie -now. - -That good soul had been rather tiresome as it was, for the past few -days. She was always kind and attentive, though a trifle more motherly -than Mary considered the circumstances to warrant, for she objected to -the old woman's view of her as a helpless young thing who needed to be -clucked over, and protected with beak and feather, like some unfledged -nurseling of the poultry yard. Of late Eppie's commiserating sympathy -and sad devotion had become nearly overpowering, as Mary could divine -no possible ground for anything so pathetic; things had appeared to be -going much as usual, the only unwonted circumstance having been her -own return home a day or two before in the Inchbracken dog-cart, -driven by Kenneth. Eppie must have got it into her head that she was -falling under the influence of those black persecutors, the Drysdales, -and that her soul was in danger; and that was too provokingly absurd -altogether and not to be tolerated. - -Mary flushed slightly to think of it, though there came also a light -into her eye, as though in some aspects the idea was not so grievous -after all. But it must be put down, whether or no, and she had been -endeavouring to assume a deportment of severe and dignified distance, -which would put the old body back in her proper place. Poor child! Her -attempts at offended reserve were like the snaps of a toothless puppy, -they had small resemblance to biting, and were far more likely to -tickle the offending hand than to hurt it. - -The next person to appear along the village street was Mr. Sangster. -He appeared to think he was late, and strode quickly along. He reached -the end of the lane. Would _he_ also turn down? No; Mary saw him wave -his hand in salutation, which showed that the others were still -concealed there, but he stepped briskly across, and, with a cordial -greeting to herself in passing, entered her brother's room. - -He had scarcely done so, when, round the corner of the lane, there -came the whole Kirk-Session and Deacons' Court,--some ten or a dozen -persons in all,--like a crowd of urchins late for school. They hurried -forward in a sort of knot, each unwilling to go first, as though there -were an irate pedagogue to confront, yet no one wished to be last, as -if he expected the dominie's cane to descend on his shoulders. They -were all oppressed by the dreadful rumours in circulation, as to the -minister's iniquity, and all wished to wreak vengeance on the defiler -of their church. But how to set about it? Something vigorous and -memorable must be done; but what was it to be? - -A posse of the lieges called out to assist in capturing some notorious -offender, half-a-dozen dogs holding a wild cat at bay--their fingers -tingle to collar, their fangs glance fiercely ready to throttle; they -stand all eager, all fierce, all cruel,--but who shall be the first to -lay hold? and what may not befall that impetuous individual? Knocking -down, braining, scratching of eyes out; even in the case of these -zealous Free-churchmen, flooring in some metaphorical but very actual -though imagined sense. No man was prepared to tackle the offender, yet -all were so sure of his wrong-doing, that each felt as if he were -bound to do it, if he should encounter him alone or first. But now -Auchlippie had gone in, he, the ruling elder, their official head, was -the proper person to do the undevised deed, or, if he did not, to bear -the 'wite' of leaving it undone. - -Roderick brightened up on the entrance of Mr. Sangster, and looked -enquiringly in his face, but he did not venture to ask the question -that was so near his lips. Mr. Sangster was cordial even beyond his -wont, and answered his enquiries about the different members of his -family at full length; but he did not say what Roderick was so -impatient to hear; he could not, for his wife had told him nothing -about it. - -The entrance of the elders and deacons made further personal converse -impossible. They walked up to the bed, took the sick man's hand one -after another, but could scarcely command their lips to frame the -ordinary inquiries after his health. Singularly to them, the minister -received them with perfect composure, and all his wonted friendliness, -while their eyes fell and wandered while the words died away upon -their lips. 'Who was the sinner?' Ebenezer Prittie very nearly -inquired aloud. Here were they, twelve just men and righteous, endowed -in their own sight and that of their neighbours with all the virtues -and christian graces in plenteous abundance, and yet this one -impenitent sinner, laid out before them, snared in the full bloom and -luxuriance of his iniquity, was able to outface them all, while they, -his judges and accusers could scarce look him straight in the face, -and had not a word to say. - -The proceedings began in the usual manner. Roderick however, found he -could scarce even whisper the opening prayer, and he therefore -requested Mr. Sangster to act in his stead. They had been called -together to make the concluding arrangements as to their new church. -Widow Forester had come to terms about the ground, and they were -therefore to set to work with all the expedition in their power, to -raise the walls and secure a roof to shelter them, before the arrival -of the winter storms. The day before had given them warning if that -were needed, that the fine summer weather was drawing to a close, and -that in a very few weeks the season of cold and storm would be upon -them. - -It was decided to commence work without any delay whatever, and that -on the Thursday they should hold a religious service to inaugurate the -work. Roderick had already bespoken the assistance of Mr. Dowlas, who -had agreed to come over from his own parish whatever day he might be -summoned. All therefore that had to be done was to notify him that -Thursday was to be the day, and that owing to Roderick's illness he -would have to assume the whole duty himself, instead of merely taking -part, unless on so short notice he could induce his neighbour Mr. -Geddie to accompany him. - -No one present seemed disposed to speak unnecessarily, a somewhat -unusual circumstance, for the deacons especially, being new to office, -were prone to eloquence on ordinary occasions. Roderick accepted this -taciturnity as a mark of consideration for his weakness and felt -grateful. Indeed no more judicious mode of showing consideration could -have been devised, for he felt himself getting worse under the stir -and excitement very quickly. The meeting broke up as speedily as -possible, and he was left alone, for Mr. Sangster had been carried -away by the rest. He had been counting on another talk with him and -perhaps of yet hearing from him the thing he most desired, but his own -voice had entirely gone, so it was but natural his friend should not -think of remaining with him when he could not speak. - -He lay back on his pillow and solaced himself by thinking all manner -of good of the men who had just left. The poor, the lower classes, who -are thought so gross and rude in their perceptions! What people could -have shown a more delicate intuition of what would be grateful to him -in his weakness, than those rough-spoken, hard-handed men? He had been -vexing himself with thoughts of their indifference and neglect, during -his illness, but see how considerate and forbearing they had been this -evening, notwithstanding the well known crotchets of this one and -that, which would certainly have been brought out on any other -occasion. - -It was a beautiful thought, though not, in the circumstances a very -accurate one, and helped him much in dropping peacefully to sleep not -long after. - - - - - CHAPTER XXI. - - _CIRCE_. - - -On Monday morning Mr. Wallowby was the first to appear in the -breakfast-room,--an unusual circumstance. There was meditation in the -noiseless tread of his slippered feet, and he rubbed his hands -thoughtfully, one over the other. So, a reflective cat will softly -move her paws and undulate her tail, while she is planning her next -raid on a neighbouring mouse hole. His enquiries after Peter's health -were solicitous and tender, and the regret and disappointment at his -being still confined to his room, perhaps excessive, considering his -strong recommendations over-night, that the patient should keep his -bed altogether next day, and, by making a regular lay up of it, get -well the sooner. He asked Mr. Sangster to lend him a horse and trap to -drive over to Inchbracken, still lamenting Peter's indisposition and -deploring the necessity of having to go alone, but persistently deaf -to the suggestion that he should wait a day or two till Peter got -better. - -The trap was ordered round as desired, the old gentleman being -thankful that in default of Peter's help the guest should take his -amusement into his own hands, and not fall back on him, James -Sangster, who had been resignedly counting on a day of self-sacrifice -and boredom in the young man's company. He would have yielded the day -freely enough, and submitted to the boredom with a fair grace, but he -feared the young man would be as much bored as himself; and that, -somehow, he did not relish. We are all of us so accustomed to being -bored by our fellows, that none but the very young think of -complaining, but that our fellows might be bored with us, is a -suggestion our self-love would rather not entertain. Mrs. Sangster did -not approve the idea; she would have had Peter go to consolidate his -intimacy with the county magnates, and what could it possibly matter -to Wallowby? she thought. She proposed a postponement, but Wallowby -was already deep in a discussion of the relative merits of Hungarian -rye-grass and timothy with her spouse, and so continued not to hear. - -The hour arrived, so likewise did the trap, and Mr. Wallowby issued -from his chamber glorious as a sunbeam. He had dressed himself with -the greatest care, and he really looked very well, if only he could -have run against somebody or something, so as to derange the get-up in -some slight degree, and make the whole more human. He was of -sufficient stature, and his face was well enough, if a trifle vacant; -so that in this faultless array, without crease or plait or pucker, he -resembled one of the figures in a tailor's fashion plate considerably -more than a gentleman of the period. Mrs. Sangster met him on the -stairs and was vastly impressed. She would have liked Sophia to see -him; but, alas! that could be managed only by peeping from behind a -blind, for Sophia herself was still the victim of catarrh, and forced -to remain invisible. - -Reaching Inchbracken, Mr. Wallowby was received by Julia. Lady -Caroline had not yet left her room, but sent word that she hoped to -see him at luncheon, and the gentlemen were from home. It was Julia's -acquaintance, however, which he had already made; and as the other -lady was to appear later, he resigned himself with perfect -satisfaction to be entertained by that agreeable person. They walked -about the grounds admiring the broad sweep of the lake, which, lapping -round Inchbracken on three sides, swept far away into the shadow of -the overhanging hills. Mr. Wallowby was charmed to discover in himself -a remarkably just appreciation of scenery, which he had never before -been conscious of possessing; but then he was not sure that it had -ever before fallen to his lot to have it so well called forth, or to -have met so appreciative a companion. It was quite remarkable and very -pleasant to find on how many subjects their opinion exactly agreed, -not on scenery only, for that was not a theme to last long, but -in general views of life and society, even politics and religion, -though these, as heavy matters, were only glanced at in passing; 'but -it is so pleasant to meet with a woman capable of understanding one on -such higher and more masculine subjects,' at least so thought Mr. -Wallowby. - -Julia was a wily sportswoman. She had often heard Captain John -describe the method of tickling a trout, and here was a gudgeon whom -she was minded to try her hand on, and capture, if possible, by that -delicate process. Wallowby opened out and spread himself in the bland -warmth of her approving smiles, like a very sunflower. He had truly -never before realised what a remarkably fine fellow he was, and the -revelation was delightful; and so, too, in consequence, was the fair -prophetess who had disclosed it. Loch Gorton was fine, no doubt, and -so too were the purple shadows slumbering among the hills beyond; but -what were these in comparison to the heights and depths, long -concealed under mists of modest diffidence, in the wondrous soul of -Augustus Wallowby? The man fairly shimmered like a moonlit fountain, -with coruscations of self-surprising wit and gratified vanity, while -Circe cooed genially in response, still leading him onward into deeper -quagmires of idiocy. Through gardens and shrubberies she led the way, -and he followed closely behind, with ears laid luxuriatingly back; as -the donkey whose poll has been deftly scratched will rub himself up -against his new found friend, and court a continuance of the -titillating process. Julia was actually discomposed by the rapidity of -her success. Had she been in fun it would have been amusing, but she -was a practical woman who meant business and a settlement for herself, -so she feared to proceed too fast. Too speedy an inflation applied to -so little solid substance might burst it, like a glass blower's freak, -in a shower of spangles, to the mere idle glorification of the man -himself; whereas if there was to be glass blowing, it was a useful -goblet for _her_ that was wanted. To change the tune, therefore, she -now led the way to the old square tower overtopping the shrubbery, -which was all that remained of the ancient family residence. Here a -larger share of the conversation devolved on herself, Scotch -antiquities and history being altogether unfamiliar to her Southern -friend. He listened, however, with respectful interest to her account -of the early Drysdales. When a man is uncertain who may have been his -own grandfather, or whether such a person ever existed, there is -something impressive in the long line of progenitors claimed by other -people, and their certainty as to the possession. Here among the -crumbling walls they once inhabited, it was impossible to doubt about -them,--a very legion of haughty shadows who had once ruled the -surrounding country,--or not to feel a positive reverence for their -surviving representative. This train of thought naturally led to Lady -Caroline, and as Julia phrased it, 'my Cousin, Lord Pitthevlis.' In -the presence of that noble house the pretensions of the Drysdales -dwindled considerably,--came down almost within reach, as it were, of -Mr. Wallowby's unhistoric self; and yet this magnificent family were -cousins of the engaging maiden who stood before him and discoursed so -graciously of their grandeur. It was a delightful idea to realize, and -he endeavoured to bring it well within his grasp, by desiring to know -the precise degree of cousinship. She replied that the relationship -was through George, the thirteenth Earl. It appeared to be difficult -to particularize very exactly. An honourable Cornelius somebody, and a -Lady Mary somebody else, besides other important people, had all been -implicated some generations back in Miss Finlayson's introduction on -this sublunary scene; 'but Lord Pitthevlis always calls me cousin, and -so do the rest of the family, so of course it is so,' she concluded, -and Wallowby was satisfied. There was apparently no prospect of her -ever being a countess in her own right, but she was evidently very -highly connected, so that when she died, her husband would be able to -put up a hatchment with eight quarterings in front of his house; and -Mr. Wallowby actually called up in his mind's eye a momentary vision -of his own residence in the outskirts of Manchester so adorned, just -to see how it would look. Poor man! I fear he was far gone. - - -[Illustration: "Through gardens and shrubberies she led the way." Page -162.] - - -During those few minutes when the lady left him in the morning room, -while she went to remove her bonnet before luncheon, he drew a long -breath and asked himself, 'could it be that at last he really was in -love?' A long train of captives passed through his memory, the -supposed victims of his fascinations--or his fortune, was it? But what -were any of them to this incomparable person? So elegant, so -accomplished, and so appreciative! It seemed very sudden; but then, -was not love at first sight the truest, the best, the highest form of -that delightful emotion? And was not the attraction mutual? With his -long and intimate knowledge of the sex, _he_ knew all the signs. He -was sure of that, and could not be mistaken in this case. He was -indeed a sad rogue, so he told himself. He could not help that, but he -felt for the poor girl in a serene and benevolent sort of way, and -resolved that she should not sigh in vain. Yet he must be circumspect -and do nothing precipitate! Although he was to return to England in -three days' time, and could not without making explanations to an -inquisitive world come again to see her; that was a matter he must -break to her gently, and he would ask leave to correspond with her. -Meanwhile he must practise reserve--veil his radiance somewhat, -lest the poor child should be reduced to a heap of ashes--another -Semele--before the fitting time for a proposal had arrived. So far his -reflections had got, as he stood looking from the windows, and pulling -out the corners of his whiskers to their extremest length, when he was -interrupted by a summons to luncheon. - -In the dining-room the ladies were already seated, one being Lady -Caroline whom he had not yet seen; and whether it was merely the -presence of a third person, or the silent claim of superiority on the -part of that lady, the atmosphere appeared to have undergone a change. -Life was no longer a river at high tide rolling to a triumphal march -from 'the Caliph of Bagdad,' but a very ordinary stream indeed, oozing -along between monotonous banks, over a flat and muddy bottom. Instead -of a prized and congenial friend, he was now reduced to the part of -stranger, and rather an unknown stranger too. Lady Caroline led the -conversation as was her wont, but more interrogatively, and less as an -exclusive monologue than when addressing persons with whom she was -better acquainted. Having been called on to express his admiration for -Scotland and the Scotch, on this his first visit to the country, he -was next asked if he had been induced to attend any of the open-air -conventicles which his friends so much affected, and how he liked -them. He said he had been at one, and that it was a picturesque -gathering in a stagy sort of way, and something very different from -anything he had ever seen before. - -'I should think so,' said Lady Caroline; 'it seems to me a species of -madness which has fallen upon the people. I wonder the authorities do -not put it down, for it is utterly subversive of order, and all good -government. I feel quite ashamed whenever I hear of it coming under -the notice of people from another country. They must form so strange -an opinion of us. If you spend another Sunday in the neighbourhood you -must persuade your friends to send you over to the parish church. It -is not far from here.' - -Mr. Wallowby replied that he would be returning to England before -another Sunday came round. 'But I was not aware,' he added, 'that -there were any but Presbyterian chapels for many miles round here. I -felt compunction about attending the ministrations of an unordained -person, it seemed to me so much a burlesque on the offices of -religion, but I was told that except in towns and a very few country -places far north, there are no clergymen in Scotland at all. And yet -the Scotch claim to be very religious. I did not know before that -people could be religious without church or parson, and now I have -seen it I do not like it.' - -'Yes! English people are all alike! They insist upon choosing for -themselves, and having done so, they would impose their choice upon -everybody else. That is not so bad perhaps when they stick to the -old-fashioned ways--in my young days we all got on most comfortably -together; but now when they have adopted so many new notions, -apostolical succession for instance, which we never used to hear of, -it seems a trifle unreasonable that people who have so much difficulty -in knowing their own views should expect others to accept them too. -For myself, I find the Act of Parliament and the law of the land the -best religious director, and wherever I live I mean to conform to the -Established Church of the country--always excepting France, and I -never will live there. I have not forgot yet how we used to be -threatened with Popery and wooden shoes if ever the French should land -upon our shores. Now, the English Church people are dissenters in -Scotland, just as Presbyterians are in England. But I hate the very -name of dissenter, as of all disloyalty, and therefore I attend the -English Church when in England, just as I do the Scotch in Scotland.' - -'But if the ministers of the Scotch form of worship are not priests, -how can they constitute a Church? That is my difficulty.' - -'The Act of Settlement says that they do, and there is no going behind -the law of the land. The Archbishop of Paris probably does not -consider the Archbishop of Canterbury a priest, or able to constitute -a Church; but no Englishman would be worth his salt who cared for what -a Frenchman said. As for the clergy in different countries, they are -all most excellent people, but they require a Queen Elizabeth or some -such person to keep them in their own place. They are all, priests and -presbyters alike, inclined to be meddlesome and tyrannical; and if we -would only let them, they would rule us with a rod of iron. I am quite -familiar with your prejudices, and even respect them, so far; my -brother Pitthevlis is a Scotch Episcopalian, and I was so brought up -myself, but I fear I must say they are a little narrow, and too like -your own new disturbers (Puseyites, you call them, I think), ever to -be possible as a national Church.' - -Mr. Wallowby bridled slightly. He thought he was a Puseyite -himself, and had great scorn for the Low Church party; but in those -pre-ritualistic days his High Churchism was, like most other laymen's, -little more than a taste for illuminated windows, surpliced choirs, -intoned prayers, and a musical service; and that rather on account of -its 'swellness,' than as a means of edification; and he would have -been as prompt as any Low Churchman to cry out 'Popery' against the -modern developments. Thirty years have passed since then, and many -things have changed. Mr. Wallowby had raised his head to do battle for -his faith, but meanwhile Lady Caroline had meandered on to other -themes, so what he might have said can never be known. - -The chicken, the salad, and the toast were at length consumed. All -rose from table, and Augustus felt that it was time for him to -withdraw. Julia accompanied him to the door, there was some low-toned -conversation, and he was gone. - -'Well! my dear Julia,' said Lady Caroline, 'I do not know what I -should do without your kind good-nature, to take the bores off my -hands. It must be between three and four hours since that misguided -man arrived, and you have been with him all the time! Does your head -ache?' - -'Oh no, dear Lady Caroline, I have got through the visit very -pleasantly. He does not talk so much as to weary one, and yet he has -plenty to say.' - -'Ah? Then I may save my condolences. So much the better! He strikes me -as being almost good-looking, if he were only a gentleman, and not -quite so tightly buttoned into his clothes. Men laugh at women's -tightlacing, but how they endure all these wisps of muslin round their -throats I cannot think. And I am sure they are quite as ridiculous.' - -'I thought Mr. Wallowby dressed rather nicely; and as to his -manners--of course he has never gone into society, and he is not the -least like a guardsman; but then he has never had the chance to see -one. And, who knows? he may have a son in the army at least, perhaps -even a field-marshal, or a Lord-Chancellor, for I hear he is very -rich, and even the greatest families must have a first man, or -perhaps, as you would say, the man before that.' - -'Julia, my dear, you are a philosopher! The gentleman must have merit, -or he would not have won over my critical young cousin so soon. He is -rich you say?' - -'Yes, Lady Caroline. Miss Brown, who was living with the Sangsters -says he is very rich; and it would be too absurd in a penniless girl -like me to be critical and fastidious in judging a man of his -substantial fortune.' - -'Fastidious! my dear? Then there is a chance of his being submitted to -your approval?' - -Julia coloured. 'Indeed Lady Caroline, it is so hard for a girl to -say. But if you will not think me absurd, I almost fancy there might -perhaps be a possibility of something like that.' - -'Ah, then, my dear, that alters the question altogether. I have no -daughter of my own, and there is no one whose settlement in life I -have more nearly at heart than yours. Confide in me, child! I have -every wish to be a mother to you.' - -Julia kissed her hand very sweetly. 'I shall find out all about him,' -continued the old lady, through old MacSiccar, and you may trust me -not to compromise you in any way. If his circumstances are -satisfactory, it might probably be a very judicious step on your part; -One cannot have everything you know; but enough to live upon is a -thing it is impossible to do without. And as to the rest, under your -guidance, I see no reason why he should not make a perfectly -presentable figure in society. I am sure you will make an admirable -and attached wife, whoever you marry; but marrying for love, instead -of with it, as every good girl of course will, often turns out to be a -mistake. You know, my dear, I was not very young myself when I -married, and a few years earlier I was very nearly doing something -foolish of that kind. The gentleman had high rank and was really very -charming; but my dear papa discovered the unsuitableness of the -connection in time, and though I was really infatuated, he carried us -all down to Pitthevlis, and kept us there for two years. In the -meantime, what papa expected occurred, the gentleman ruined himself. -His property was put under trustees, and he himself has been living at -Boulogne and such places ever since, on the few hundreds a year -allowed by his creditors. I shudder sometimes when I think how -narrowly I escaped----. Shortly after that my dear General came -forward, and I need not say how thankful I am that I was saved from my -earlier folly. Rank and position are most desirable things, but a -solid income is indispensable. There are so many girls now, too, and -the men have grown so mercenary, that a girl without fortune or a -title cannot look for more than a younger son, which is merely a sort -of decent dependence on the family, and often a most painful position. -So my dear,' added the old lady, who had been gradually warming under -her own eloquence, 'I wish you every success, always provided the -_parti_ should prove worthy your acceptance,' and thereupon she rose, -and bending over Julia, kissed her on the forehead, like a fairy -godmother, or some other superior spirit, animated by the most -beneficent intentions. She was thinking that if Kenneth should marry -and settle down at Inchbracken, as his father desired, a third lady in -the household would be one too many. - - - - - CHAPTER XXII. - - _IN SESSION_. - - -The joint meeting of elders and deacons broke up as described, and -left the minister alone. They did not separate, however, for Ebenezer -Prittie stood without the cottage door, and begged them so urgently to -come round to the Post Office that they consented. - -The Post Office proved a meeting place still more restricted than the -one they had left, but it was private. The shop having been closed, -they seated themselves on the counter and sundry kegs of nails, and -waited the opening of the proceedings. - -Ebenezer moved that Mr. Sangster should take the chair (a tall -slender-legged stool), and that the proceedings should be minuted in -the Session books, as a continuance after adjournment of the meeting -which had just broken up. Mr. Sangster objected to so irregular a -course, and declined to mount the chair. He would be happy to hold an -informal conversation with his friends there assembled, but he would -take no part in a hole-and-corner meeting not duly called, and held -without the knowledge of their minister, who of right should preside. - -Ebenezer coughed behind his hand, cleared his voice, and stood forth. -He had been planning something very energetic in the way of -resolutions and minutes of Session, which by and by would be produced -in the Presbytery with his name as prime mover and leader; but now he -had got them together, it did not appear such plain sailing as he had -anticipated, and he began to have qualms and misgivings. The position -of prosecutor or accuser did not appear so desirous, now that he stood -in the midst of that silent and expectant circle, as it had done when -he was merely planning it. He coughed again, but the silence remained -unbroken. No one else desired to speak, so he had to go on. He told -them that it was unnecessary for him to name the reason for his having -requested them to reassemble there, as they knew it already. Mr. -Sangster interrupted, that he for one had not an idea of the object of -their meeting, and was waiting to hear it. Ebenezer replied that the -whole glen was ringing with reports of the evil living of the person -acting as pastor over them,--that it was a crying scandal, and that -the enemy would have good cause to exult over the subversion of their -Zion, if they did not cast the unclean thing out from among them.' - -'What do you allude to. Mr. Prittie?' asked Mr. Sangster. - -'To the minister's bairn, sir!' replied Ebenezer; 'ye hardly need to -speer that.' - -'But Mr. Brown's adoption of a foundling infant affords no ground of -censure that I can see. I confess, indeed, that I have always thought -he had set us an example of Christian charity we would do well to -copy.' - -'Do ye mean to say, sir, ye dinna ken wha's acht that bairn?' - -'I do. Whose is it?' - -'His ain, of course!' - -'How do you know?' - -'A' body kens that by noo, 'at bides in Glen Effick.' - -'_I_ don't, for one; and I should like to know how _you_ know it.' - -'What a' body says maun be true! Ye'll allow _that_, Mester Sangster. -An' what's mair, the mither's kenned as weel.' - -'And who is the mother? Has she said so?' - -'A body wadna just look for that, ye ken, sir. Folk dizna cry stinkin' -fish e'y open market. An' ye wadna be lookin' to hear auld Tibbie -Tirpie cryin' 'cuttie' after her ain dochter!' - -'How then do you make it out? For myself, I don't believe one word of -it.' - -'Do ye mean to say 'at I'm leein', Mester Sangster? I'm but a puir man -to you, I ken weel; an' I'm mindin' 'at ye're the Laird of Auchlippie; -but I was ordeened to the eldership o' the kirk the same day ye was -yoursel', an' I'm thinkin' we're baith brithers in the house o' God, -whaur there's no respect of persons; an' I kenna what for ye suld -think I'm leein' ony mair nor yersel'.' - -'Whisht, man!' remonstrated Peter Malloch. 'The Laird never thocht to -misdoubt _you_. It's just a way o' speakin' folk's gotten. But I'm -sayin', Mester Sangster, I cud gang a lang gate mysel' e'y pruivin' o' -thae suspeecions. I hae seen the minister wi' my ain een, slinkin' -frae the auld wife's door, lang efter dark; an' the verra next day, -doon she comes to me for tea an' sneeshin' an' sic like trokes as a -puir body can do wantin' weel eneugh, an' pays a' wi' a pund note o' -the Peterhead Bank. There's nae misdoubtin' whaur that siller cam -frae! An' folk dinna gie notes to puir bodies for naething.' - -'Folk differ in that as in other things, Peter,' retorted the laird -with a shrug. 'Some wad gie a bodle gin they had ane, an' when they -haena they gie a bawbee. An' mony's the button I hae fand in the kirk -collections in my time! But I can't see that therefore we must -attribute Mr. Brown's liberality to an evil motive. He preaches -liberal giving, you know, and he practises what he preaches. Perhaps -we might all take a lesson from him and increase our charities without -going beyond our duty.' - -'Hech!' sighed a voice in the corner, 'it's no the amount! It's the -speerit it's dune in; an' that's a grand truith, an' a comfortin'. It -was the Widdie's twa mites 'at gat a' the praise!' - -'Yes!' retorted the Laird with a chuckle, 'but they were all her -living! The chield that put the button in the plate gets little -countenance there! But, to return to the rumours; there would have to -be some more conclusive evidence before any step could be taken in the -matter. As I have said before, I believe the whole thing is just idle -talk, and I will be no party to insulting Mr. Brown by even bringing -such an insinuation under his notice. This parish and the whole church -owe him gratitude for his zealous and self-denying labours. I regard -the whole tenor of his life among us as ample refutation of any -unsubstantiated report that can be circulated to his disparagement; -and I wonder that any office-bearer of this church, after all the -intercourse we have been privileged to have with him, can think -otherwise. I think it is the duty of all here present, to put down -this tattling of idle tongues; and if we cannot stop, at least we -should not heed them, and by-and-by they will cease to wag of -themselves.' - -'It's braw crackin' about tatlin' tongues,' said Peter Malloch, 'but -wadna we be giein' the enemy grund to blaspheme? an' that's clean -contrar' to Scripter. A bonny tale the reseeduaries wad mak o't a', -gin it cam to their lugs! They're aye sayin', as it is, 'at the unco -gude (an' that means hiz) are nae better nor ither folk, but a hantle -waur. An' as for Mester Brown an' his giein', there's mair ways o' -doin' gude nor juist giein siller to feckless bodies 'at canna help -themsels. What for canna hie gie a help to the honest hard workin' -folk 'at's fechtin' their best to gar baith ends meet, an' support the -lawfu' tred o' his ain glen? "Claw me an' I'se claw ye," is gude plen -Scotch. Gin folk peys their pennies intil the Sustentation Fund -reglar, it's gey an yerksom to see the minister's family gae by the -door, an' dale wi' outsiders. It'll be a week come the morn 'at the -carrier frae Inverlyon brocht them a muckle creel fu' o' groceries. -What wad come to the tred o' the glen gin a' body dealt that gate?' - -'Hoot, Peter,' snorted the Laird, 'the sand in yer sugar's been ower -grit! I'm thinkin' I heard tell o' a sma' chuckie stane in Miss -Brown's tea-cup. Folk are na juist hens, ye see, an' dinna find sic -provender halesome.' - -Something like a snigger followed the Laird's sally. No one else -present being a 'merchant' of eatables, the joke was greatly relished. -It is always pleasant to see a neighbour suffer, because it gives -point and relish to one's own immunity. It is a form of childish -sensuality that survives the relish for lollipops, but it is perhaps -most openly indulged in during the lollipop period. Whispering and -restlessness become hushed all over the school-room when a whipping is -going forward. Each child settles in its seat to watch the -performance, all eyes and interest; the sharper the whish of the cane -and the louder the wail of the victim, the more pleasurable and keen -the interest of each spectator, for the better he realizes the ease -and comfort of his own little skin. - -Peter flushed. The laird was a privileged man, who might take his joke -as he pleased, but no prescriptive immunity sheltered the rest. - -'I see naething to nicker at, Ebenezer Prittie! Gin onything fell -amang my sugar I ken naething about it ava, as I'll explain to Miss -Brown; but I see na hoo yer ain ellwand can be an inch shorter nor -ither folks, an' ye no ken o't.' - -'I daur ye to say that again, ye ill-faured leein' rascal! Gin it war -na for my godly walk and conversation, as a Christian man an' an -Elder, I'd lay the ellwand about yer crappet lugs!' - -Here there was a general intervention between the two angry men, and -the laird expressed his regret at having used any expression that -could disturb the harmony of the meeting, but they knew his weakness -for a joke; and as everything seemed to have been said on the subject -they had met to consider, and as it was getting late, he would now -wish them all good-night. - -'I see na that a' has been said,' observed Ebenezer, so soon as the -Laird was beyond hearing, 'or that ony thing has been said ava that's -ony gude. Are we to let the hale thing drap, an' mak fules o' oursel's -afore the hale glen, just to pleasure Auchlippie? I trow no!' - -'An' what wad ye be for doin' then?' asked one. - -'I'll tell ye what we suld do,' suggested another. 'Isna Mester Dowlas -comin' to haud the meetin,' an' lay the fundation o' the new Kirk? An' -what for suldna we ca' him to adveese wi' us what ocht to be dune? I'm -thinkin' he's as weel able as Auchlippie to direc' folk, an' we needna -be feared to anger _him_, he's no a laird.' - -'Aweel!' said Ebenezer, who had now mounted on the top of the tall -stool, and was benevolently regarding the meeting from his -self-appointed station as chairman. 'Ye'll better juist muive that, -Andra Semple, an' as I'm e'y chair I'll put yer motion to the meetin'. -An' syne _ye_ can muive an adjournment, Elluck Lamont, an' we'll -adjourn to Thursday efternoon, whan the kirk skells. An' sae we'll be -a' in order ('let a'thing be dune decently an' in order,' says the -Apostle) till we get Mester Dowlas to set us richt.' - -Thus the meeting had but small direct result. Its effect indirectly, -however, was considerable. When, early that evening, the members had -stolen down the lane near the minister's cottage, to intercept each -other and feel circuitously towards the point of interest, each would -have been ashamed, first and unsupported, to repeat aloud the rumours -that had reached him. When he had heard them in the first instance, -usually from his wife--it is the gentle sex usually which originates -or introduces such tales, probably because it has no head to break, -which is to say, that its corporal immunities in a civilized land -enable it to say unpunished what would bring down on the male tattler -both brawls and broken bones,--he had at first declared it was -impossible, and then that it was unlikely; and even when, after -dwelling on it in his mind, the love of a sensation made him half -think half hope there might be something in it, he would hesitate to -allude to it save by a whisper and a shake of the head, and would -caution his wife not to repeat it, or let herself appear as one who -was giving it currency. When, however, the matter had been talked -over, audible speech exercised its usual defining and contracting -influence. The mysterious and appalling, as well as the doubtful -element, became vulgarised as well as realized. Without any additional -evidence, yet in the company of so many others who all believed, each -felt it due to his own character for clear-sightedness and high moral -tone to dismiss every remnant of doubt, and to be eager for the -exposure and punishment of the offender. Afterwards, in the presence -of the accused himself, their certainty had begun a little to waver. -The many pieties and goodnesses associated with him in their memories, -were too discordant with this new and vulgar suspicion, and probably -had they met him each alone, they would have dismissed the accusation -from their minds; but each sat under the scrutinizing eyes of his -twelve or thirteen fellows. They were the eyes into which he had -looked, a little while ago, when he had made up his mind that the -rumours were well founded; and as he felt their glance on him now, it -was like a voice urging steadfastness and consistency with what he had -been saying so shortly before. Those persons looking at him had heard -him say that he believed everything; how, then, could he, while still -under their eye, turn round and dismiss his suspicions without any new -fact or argument to account for the change? Nevertheless, the zeal of -the old Hebrew prophets, which some of them had felt stirring in their -veins and urging them to lift a testimony and denounce the sinner in -the midst of his ways, had cooled and oozed away as they sat round the -sickbed; each looked expectantly to the others, but felt he could not -undertake the work himself. It was a relief to all of them to leave -the sick-room, and when they re-assembled at the Post Office, they -felt more strongly built up in their suspicions than ever. If anything -could have bound them more firmly to their position, it was Mr. -Sangster's scant respect for the conclusion at which they had arrived. -They were willing to admit his superiority both in position and -education, and probably any one of them would have deferred to him if -alone; but the sturdy democratic or Presbyterian element in them -objected to so many yielding to the one who wore a better coat and had -learned Latin; and when in the end he tried to dismiss the meeting, -after pooh-poohing its object as absurd, they felt bound to assert -themselves by boldly and openly taking the other course. - -All reserve, therefore, was dropped. Each had all the others to bear -him out in whatever he said; and that night he openly discussed the -supposed facts with his wife while she prepared his supper. - -The next morning the 'stoups' stood empty at the well, and heaps of -wet linen lay neglected and unspread down on the 'loaning,' while -their owners in garrulous knots discussed the minister's misdoings, -and Peter Malloch sold more little parcels of tea and snuff than he -had ever done in one day before, so many of the gudewives desired to -get his version with full particulars. - - - - - CHAPTER XXIII. - - _MOTHER AND DAUGHTER_. - - -Sophia looked from behind her window-blind as Mr. Wallowby drove away -to make his visit at Inchbracken. - -'A fine looking man!' observed her mother, who stood behind her. 'This -cold of yours is very disappointing, Sophia, confining you to your -room. I was in hopes you and he would have become quite intimate by -this time. He seems a very superior person, and would have been an -improving companion for you. Your cold appears to be better to-day. -Put on your blue silk, and let him find you in the drawing room on his -return. You owe to your brother, my dear, that his friend should find -things as comfortable and pleasant here as among our neighbours.' - -'Certainly, mamma, if you say so. But I don't think it will signify -much to Mr. Wallowby. He does not mind me in the least, and I find it -uphill work trying to make manners to him. Even Mary Brown, who has so -much to say, thinks him a tiresome man.' - -'She did not appear to think so when she was in his company, laughing -and singing and carrying on! I was disappointed to see her father's -daughter manifest so much levity of character. I fear it is a family -trait.' - -'Mamma!' - -'Yes, Sophia! I mean what I say; young girls should be seen, but not -heard. That was the rule in _my_ young days. She took the whole -entertainment of the stranger off your hands, as if she had been in -her own house; forward, I thought her, in fact; and I don't think your -brother Peter thought any the more of her for it.' - -'Oh, mamma! it was Peter who made her talk! A girl must answer when -she is spoken to; and she must laugh too, when people are trying to -amuse her, however poor the joke may be. And it was Peter who -persuaded her to sing when she would rather not. I know, for she told -me so!' - -'H'm! I fear she is a sly monkey that Mary Brown--for all her artless -ways! I wish you had some of her worldly wisdom, added to the high -principles I have been at such pains to instil into your mind. I am -sure you will never be a flirt; but a young woman must be settled in -life unless she is to be an old maid and a failure; and how is an -eligible young man to know what treasures of good sense and right -principle there may be in her, if she will not open her mouth to him, -or hides away in her own room? I call it a waste of precious -opportunity! Remember the fate of the man who hid his talent in a -napkin, and be warned in time!' - -'But, mamma, you have always told me, and I am sure it is so, that -marriages are ordained by a higher power, and that the appointed man -will certainly find you out, even if he has to come down the chimney -to reach you.' - -'Quite true, my dear, in a sense! but we don't want the sweeps at -Auchlippie at this time of year. And there can be no more proper place -for a gentlewoman to meet a young man than her mother's drawing-room; -so put on your blue silk and bring your worsted work down stairs as -soon as you are ready. I shall send Betsy to your assistance;' and, -with a rather scornful shrug, the old lady left the room. - -'I believe,' she muttered to herself as she descended the stairs, -'that girl's a gowk! It's the Sangster blood in her, I suppose--a -dull, literal-minded lot!--soft and sober! To think that a daughter of -mine should need to be spoken to, as I have just been speaking to her! -We were all more gleg than that on _my_ side of the house. I don't -know whether to be more ashamed of being mother to sic a daw; or for -the things I have been driven to say to her! They don't sound like the -walk and conversation of a Christian woman! and yet the best of us are -but flesh and blood. We must all eat and drink, wear clothes, live in -houses, and, when we can, ride in coaches, marry and give in marriage, -just like the people before the flood, though they were so bad; and we -must strive our best to provide for our families unless we would deny -the faith and be worse than infidels. Ah! there is Scripture for it! -So glad I remembered that text! It saves one from feeling base and -scheming. But one ought not to be driven to put doubtful sentiments -into words. One should be helped out with them. 'Bear ye one another's -burdens.' That seems an apt quotation and appropriate, if it had only -come into Sophia's mind! But there's no use looking for that from -_her_. She's a glaikit tawpie. Ah me! the trials of a discreet and -conscientious mother are not light! I hope I may have strength to bear -them.' And so, with a sigh, she went about her affairs. The texts had -evangelicalized (if not evangelized) the mercenary schemes, and she -was again rehabilitated in her own eyes as a righteous person. - -Sophia stood brushing out her hair and musing on her mother's -precepts, as a dutiful daughter should. She had never before heard -marrying discussed in this bare, hard fashion. Was she a Circassian -slave at Constantinople, to be tricked out and submitted to the -inspection of the rich man in this fashion? Once before, some few -words had been said to her in a more guarded way, but, as she now -perceived in the same spirit, when the coming of her brother and his -friend had been first spoken of; but at that time they had been less -heeded, or she had understood them less, and they had not then shocked -her. Love and marriage were subjects which up to that time had only -been mentioned in her hearing as something vague, mysterious and holy, -which it did not become her to pry into. As for personal love -experiences, she had none; and the subject of maidenly fancies had -generally been referred to by her hard and practical mother with scorn -and derision. - -Roderick's letter to her had therefore fallen on her unprepared mind -as a revelation. All the two previous days her thoughts had been -repeating over and over his earnest words. How deeply he must have -felt before he could so have expressed his anxiety! And she? What -answer should she make? All the long years of their intercourse passed -through her memory, and incidents disregarded at the time and -forgotten, came back now to her recollection with a new meaning and a -new force. Their long talks, in which he had spoken so much and she so -little, began now to take a new aspect in her mind. She must have been -encouraging him though she did not know it; and what was more, if she -had to enact those scenes over again, with the new enlightenment in -her eyes, she felt that she would encourage him none the less, but -rather the more. To have excited such emotion in one so clever and -good, was an achievement of which she felt proud, in a wondering and -enquiring way, for she could not imagine how she had done it; but the -thought of his love for her grew more and more sweet and engrossing, -and she began to suspect that down deep somewhere in her nature where -she had never looked or known of before, she was fond of him in -return. - -And yet, she had not answered the letter. What would he think of her? -Since her mother had called her unmaidenly, she had not ventured to -return to the subject in case of another explosion. But now that she -had in cold blood set a matrimonial scheme before her, and -deliberately incited her to endeavour to win the regard of a man for -whom she felt no attraction whatever, simply because he was rich, she -felt strong enough to broach the question again. Whatever her mother -said she would answer his letter somehow, and more than that, should -her mother propose another suitor, she would have nothing to say to -him till she had come to an understanding with Roderick. - -Having donned the blue silk, Sophia descended to the drawing-room, -work-basket in hand. The room was empty, which was disappointing, as -she had strung herself up to concert pitch She settled herself to work -and waited. The monotonous motion of the needle and thread had a -calming influence on her nerves; but as they grew less tense she began -to feel less confidence in her own courage, and to wish her meditated -conversation well over. Visitors came in, which afforded her a further -respite, and in her disturbed state supplied a vent for some of her -suppressed energy. She had never before, perhaps, shown so much -animation and vivacity in general conversation. It surprised her -mother and quite rehabilitated her in the good opinion of that careful -parent, who congratulated her on having so well held her part, and -hoped it was the beginning of a new chapter in her life, and that she -was about to assume with due _éclat_ the part of daughter in so -prominent a household of the Free Church. - -'It's a duty to the cause, my dear! Remember how the daughters of -Israel sewed curtains of scarlet and needlework for the ark in the -wilderness. By all means let us show that we are in no respect behind -the heathen in the graces of life! and let us show forth the beauty of -holiness among the uncircumcised residuaries!' - -It was not altogether plain to Sophia how holiness arrayed in blue -silk was to advance the cause, but she let it pass. Her lady mother -was in tolerably good humour, and that was a point in her favour. She -consulted her about the shading of a rose in the worsted work, to -break the current of her thoughts, and then, like the bather about to -plunge into an unkindly sea, with firm-set teeth, and fingers clenched -beneath her embroidery, she made the leap. After a preliminary cough -to steady the tremor in her voice-- - -'Have you got that letter of mine, mamma? I think I must answer it -to-day.' - -'What letter?' demanded the old lady with a start. - -'That letter from Rod--Mr. Brown.' - -'I thought we had said all that need be spoken on that subject -already.' - -'You said I was unmaidenly,' replied Sophia, aghast at her own -temerity; but even the sheep when it is cornered will turn its horns -to the collie. - -'And was that not enough for any right thinking young woman?' retorted -the mother, showing a pink spot on either cheek--the red lamps of -danger. - -'I am not thinking of myself, mamma! Mr. Brown has written me a kind -and a very urgent letter, and I think I owe him an answer of some -kind, when he shows so deep an interest in me. You said yourself this -morning that a girl will be an old maid and a failure if she is not -married. I suppose you don't want me to propose to the men myself? and -if a gentleman proposes to me, surely I owe him a civil answer.' - -'The lassie's in a creel!' cried Mrs. Sangster, jumping up. She had a -tingling in her finger tips, which not so many months before, would -have relieved itself in an assault on her daughter's ears; but the -blue silk, the tall womanly figure, or an unwonted determination in -the girl's face, restrained her, and she sat down again. - -'I am astounded, Sophia, to hear you use such language! When I was a -girl I think I would have died, before I could have brought myself to -say as much. Have you been reading novels? or what has come over you?' - -Sophia sat speechless, eyeing the danger signals on her mother's -cheeks, with considerable alarm; but that did not appear. Well for us -it often is, that the sluggish frame is a mask and veil, but slowly -responding to the inner working of our minds, or the tide of battle -would oftener be turned in its course. She said nothing, which was the -very best reply she could have made. - -'Here have we got a most desirable match in the very house with -you--one only requiring the most ordinary assiduity on the part -of any handsome and well brought-up young woman, to secure the -prize. Nature has done its part for you, and I, though you think so -little of your mother's love, have done mine; and yet you send your -thoughts wool-gathering far and wide to take up with a penniless, -ill-principled, disreputable licentiate! Not even ordained! Nor ever -likely to be, if a's true that's suspected. For shame, woman! An' show -mair sense!' - -'Mamma! I am nothing to the gentleman you allude to! He would rather -sit in Peter's room and smoke tobacco, than trouble with me. And I -care just as little for him.' - -'Ay! There it is! You're that indolent you canna be fashed to make -yourself commonly agreeable to your brother's friend! Do you take -yourself for another 'Leddy Jean' in the ballad, that all the lords -and great men in the country are to come bowin' and fraislin' for a -glint o' _your_ e'e? You are vastly mistaken if you do! The young men -of fortune now-a-days know their own weight too well for any such -nonsense. A girl will have to make herself agreeable before she need -expect attention even, not to speak of a proposal.' - -'But I don't want a proposal! and I don't want _him!_ Am I for sale, -that I am to be trotted out and shown off to him, as Jock Speirs does -with papa's colts, when the horse-couper comes round?' - -'Sophia Sangster! To think I should live to see the day when my own -child would taunt me with being a match-making mother! Is that the -outcome of all my self-denying care and love? But you'll change your -mind yet, my lady, or I'm mistaken. When your poor mother is laid in -the kirk-yard, and yourself are a middle-aged spinster living in -lodgings, up a stair, in some country town, spending your time cutting -up flannel to make petticoats for beggar wives, and no diversion the -live long week but the Dorcas meetings on Friday evenings, then you'll -remember your poor mother's assiduous endeavours to settle you in -life, and you'll see your headstrong folly when it's too late!' - -Mrs. Sangster seldom attempted to wield the limner's art, and that was -the reason why her present effort was so effective on her own -sensibilities. She buried her face in her handkerchief and gulped. - -'Mamma! what is the good of talking nonsense like this? There is no -present fear of my being an old maid; Mr. Brown has asked me to marry -him, and that is what I want to talk about,--not about suppositions -that can never come to anything.' - -'And what would you wish to say, then, in your great wisdom?' - -'I would simply say that I am not engaged to anybody, and that I am -too much startled by his letter to be able to say more; but he can -speak to papa about it.' - -'But I will not allow you to have any correspondence with that young -man!--a bringer of open reproach upon the truth he professes! All who -have dealings with him will be brought to confusion yet, I am certain! -Touch not, taste not, handle not!' - -'I only want to write him a letter!' responded Sophia, a little -pertly; but the effort of self-restraint had lasted a good while, and -she was approaching that state in which one must either laugh or cry. -'And what do you know against him?' she added. - -'There are rumours in circulation,--and well founded rumours, too, I -am sorry to say,--which preclude decent people from having any -dealings with him whatever.' - -'But what are they about? Considering the subject of his letter, I -ought to know--surely!' - -'I hope you will never know what they are about. They are too shocking -to be spoken about altogether.' - -'And do you believe them?' - -'I cannot help myself! The evidence is too convincing.' - -'Does papa believe them?' - -'I don't know that he does--exactly--just yet. He is so prejudiced in -favour of that young man. But he will be compelled to believe before -long.' - -'Does papa know of his letter to me?' - -'How should he know? Do you think I would bring myself to speak of -what I consider a gross insult to the family? But have done! Here -comes Mr. Wallowby. The dinner was to be kept back on account of his -absence. Go and bid them have it on the table in three quarters of an -hour. But remember, Sophia, I command you in the most solemn manner -not to write to that other man. And think no more of it.' - -The guest's return cut short further discussion; and probably it was -best so. Mrs. Sangster had had the last word, which she would have -insisted on having in any case; and Sophia, if slow, was well known in -the family to be obstinate--one on whose mind, if an idea could once -inscribe itself, it remained for ever, written in ink indelible; and -under the new awakening that was at work within her, she was little -likely to have been moved by any thing that would have been said. Her -mind was made up. Roderick should certainly hear from her, on that she -was resolved; but the lifelong habit of obedience in which she had -been reared, prevented her direct contravention of her mother's -command. She would not write a letter, but she must get at him in some -other way. - -She would have liked to talk it all over with her father, as being a -person of incomparable wisdom, and one better inclined to Mr. Brown, -as she had just gathered, than her mother; but her father if very -wise, was also very far off--a Merovingian king, in affairs of the -household or of his daughter, which he was content to leave under the -absolute and undisputed control of his wife--the mayor of the palace. -She had been used every day to see him preside at table, and read -prayers morning and evening, but she had never had much personal -intercourse or conversation with him; and to go to him and say that a -young man had asked her to marry him, was beyond her strength. She -grew pale at the bare thought of it. - -The next day was taken up with other cares--a dinner party at home, -and on Wednesday came leave-taking, as her brother and Mr. Wallowby -were returning to the South. In the afternoon, however, stillness had -fallen upon the house. Her father was away, having accompanied his -guests to the county town where they were to catch the mail. All the -stir and bustle of the past two weeks was over, and her mother -declaring she had a headache, had retired to her room. Sophia sat down -to her worsted work, and as with busy fingers she wove the many-hued -threads into her web, her own thoughts seemed to disentangle -themselves out of the confused wisp in which they had lain, she began -to perceive what it really was that she wanted, and to make up her -mind what she would do. Roderick's letter somehow kept repeating -itself over and over again through her mind, but she made no attempt -to stifle it, nor did she grow weary of the phrases so often -rehearsed; on the contrary the colour deepened in her cheek, and a -light dawned in her eye, clearer, warmer, more human, than those -organs with all their gazelle-like beauty--their suggestion of the -ox-eyed Heré--had ever revealed before. 'Yes! Roderick should have his -answer--in part at least--for, after all she felt herself, as one of -God's free creatures, entitled to exercise the resources of her -hunter's skill. Before she yielded to his yoke, as Tibbie Tirpie would -have said, she meant to have more courting. And Mary--she could see -and speak to _her_ without challenge and without reproach--_she_ -should be her messenger. - - - - - CHAPTER XXIV. - - _LUCKIE HOWDEN_. - - -Roderick was certainly growing worse, although the rheumatic symptoms -had disappeared. His voice was scarcely audible now, and he spoke with -great difficulty. All through Tuesday there was a look of waiting and -anxiety on his face. A step in the passage without, or a passing wheel -on the road, and he would turn his eyes to the door, as though he -expected some one. But no one came, wheels and footsteps alike passed -on their way; and he would heave a weary sigh, turning his face to the -wall. On Wednesday he was more restless, more depressed and certainly -worse. He had not slept the night before, and at early daylight he had -begun again to watch for coming steps, and to sigh as each passed on -without turning in to him. Mary sat by him, and sat alone. Excepting -the Doctor and Eppie Ness, no one came to share her watching, or to -enquire how he was--their minister, for whom they had hitherto -professed such regard, and to whose bounty so many were indebted for -substantial pecuniary aid. - -'I think it very unkind of Mrs. Sangster never to have come to ask -after him,' she said, 'and it is strange as well, seeing that it was -in her service he got so wet; but I am quite confounded at the neglect -the rest of the parishioners are showing him.' - -'Can you account for it, Eppie?' - -'No, mem. Gin it bena just the way o' the world. "Them 'at gets, -forgets." It's an auld sayin', and it looks as gin it was a true ane. -An' they're a' that gleg, to tak up ilka daftlike clash 'at ony -donnart haverel may set rinnin'. Whan a man has gaed out an' in amang -them, an' gien them his strength an' his gear sae free, they micht -think shame.' Here she stopped abruptly and in some confusion, as one -whose tongue had outrun her discretion. She caught the look of -bewildered surprise in Mary's face. 'But I'm thinkin' my ain tongue's -rinnin' awa wi' me. I'm just clean angered wi' the doited gomerels.' - -'I don't understand you, Eppie. There must be something going on we -don't know about. What is it?' - -'Hoot, mem, there's just naething ava! But I'm thinkin' ye'll better -gae ben, the minister's steerin!' - -Mary returned to her brother's bedside, but he told her he had not -called. She took one of his books and strove to interest him by -reading aloud, while she ran over in her mind all that had occurred in -the neighbourhood for weeks past, and how it could in any way bear on -their relations with the people. Roderick grew drowsy in time under -the monotony of her voice, and she herself would shortly have fallen -asleep, when the click of the latch was heard. - -Both were awake in a moment, and starting round, beheld Kenneth -Drysdale standing in the doorway. - -'Is any body in?' he exclaimed, as he stepped into the room with a -laugh. 'I have knocked three times and got no answer. You must both -have been asleep. Ah! I see. A good book! That is just like my -mother's reading on a Sunday afternoon. Good books give such peace of -mind and repose of conscience, that the body shares in it too. One is -sure to find her extended on her sofa any time between luncheon and -the dressing bell. 'Meditating with her eyes closed,' she calls it; -but from the regularity of her breathing, I would venture to call it -by another name. Julia, now, reads French novels, and you won't catch -_her_ napping. Roderick, old man! Laid up?' - -Roderick took his old friend's hand in both his own. It was a great -and unexpected pleasure to see him. The stand he had taken on the -Church question appeared to have severed him altogether from the -family at Inchbracken, and it was by no means the least of the -sacrifices he had felt bound to make for the truth. He had heard of -Mary's visit to Inchbracken before taking to his bed at Gortonside, -but since then his own physical pains, and the misery in his mind -about Sophia's being about to marry the Manchester man, had so -possessed him, that he had not spoken to her on the subject. If he -had, he would have been less surprised at Kenneth's appearance; that -is to say, if she had or could have explained; for in converse where -looks and tones of the voice go so far to modify and even replace -spoken language, it may be doubted whether she would have found -anything she could have reported. _She_ understood, and Kenneth -understood, and each knew that the other understood; and yet what was -there after all to tell? Until you found it necessary to make a -disclosure to your mamma, dear Madam, and the gentleman now your -husband made a formal statement to your papa,--pray what could you -have said in your own case? And would it not have been impossible for -you to say anything at an earlier period to enlighten your elders and -save them from afterwards moralizing on the remarkable secrecy and -cleverness of the young people in managing their tender affairs? A -good deal of the same sort of thing passed on the present occasion. -Kenneth talked mostly to Roderick, and both were happy to renew the -old friendship. Mary sat by perfectly content. The portion of the -conversation that fell to her share was not large, but there were -looks and softenings of the voice, quiet smiles and comings and goings -of a flush, that supplied all she waited to hear or desired to say. - -Roderick felt refreshed by the visit, and when Kenneth, promising to -come again very shortly, at last withdrew, the burden of living -appeared lighter to him, and he lay back armed with new fortitude to -bear and wait. - -Kenneth had been gone but a few minutes when Eppie Ness in her turn -had a visitor--an old woman, toothless and bent, limping on a staff, -and with a covered basket on her arm. A grizzled elf-lock or two had -escaped from the white sowback mutch which was bound to her head by a -winding of broad black ribbon, and hung down over the glittering -beadlike eyes. A hook nose and projecting chin nearly met in a -bird-like beak over the fallen-in mouth, whence one surviving fang -protruded with a grim witch-like effect. Her dress was dark blue -linsey, and over it she wore, as on all occasions of ceremony, the -scarlet cloak in which she had been 'kirket' as a bride fifty years -before, and had worn unfailingly ever since, summer and winter, to -kirk and market. It was Luckie Howden. She pushed open the door -without ceremony, and stood in the middle of the kitchen looking about -her. Eppie, with the child in her lap, sat by the fire and was -crooning some old song in the endeavour to make it sleep. - -'Hear til her noo! wi' her daft sinfu' sangs. Wraxin' the thrapple o' -her like some screighin' auld craw! "Like draws to like," folk says, -an' aiblins ye're no that faur wrang, gude wife, to be skirlin' the -like til a merry-begotten wee din raiser, as that wein's like to turn -out. But wadna "Bangor," noo, or "Saunt Neot's," or some douce tune -like that, an' belike ane o' the waesome Psaulms o' penitence be -fitter baith for the puir bairn an' its ill-doin' faither?' - -'Haud yer lang, ill-scraipet tongue, Luckie Howden! We a' ken what -maks _ye_ sae bitter on the puir bairn. Gin ye'd gotten the tentin' o' -her, an' three shillin's the week forby the feedin', ye'd hae thocht -nae wrang; an' ye wadna hae been sae gleg to hearken to senseless -lees, 'at ony body no clean doited micht ken better nor mind.' - -'Ye ill-tongued limmer! Hoo daur ye even me to the like?' - -'Ou ay! Ye're rael heigh, are na ye? But ye gaed fleechin' to Miss -Mary for a' that, to get the bairn awa frae me, an' ye said ye'd tent -her for half-a-crown. I'm thinkin' she'd no hae fared ower weel, the -bonny lamb, gin ye'd hae gotten yer way. Ye'd hae shotten't by, wi' -ait meal brue, an' drank the sweet milk yersel'!' - -'An' gin I did speer Miss Brown for the bairn, was there ony wrang -kenned anent it than? An' what for suld I no? Wad it no hae been weel -for the bairn gin I had gotten my way! I hae raised twal o' my ain, -an' I'm granny to naar twa score. But you! ye ne'er had but ane, an' -ye kenned na hoo to guide it--made sae puir a job o't the Lord ne'er -chanced ye wi' anither.' - -'The Lord forgie ye! ye ill-tongued witch,' cried Eppie, while her -brimming eyes overflowed. The image of her long-lost darling rose -before her in all its winsome beauty, and she gathered up the baby in -her lap, more closely to her motherly breast, and pressed it fondly -for the sake of the one that was gone. - -'An' sae gin ye hae the merry-begotten brat, an' the siller, ye maun -e'en tak the disdain as weel. I'm blythe for mysel' noo, 'at the -half-crowns didna come my gate. There war nane but decent men's bairns -e'er lay in thae arms.' She stretched her spider-like tentacles, while -the contents of her basket gave a warning rattle, 'An' that minds me I -maun do my errand wi' the young man--I winna ca' him a minister, for -the gown suld be strippet frae his shouthers; an' that's what it will -be afore lang.' - -'My certie! An' ye'se gang nae sic gate,' cried Eppie, rising and -preparing to block the way. 'The minister's lyin' sair sick, an' he -maunna be fashed wi' a randie auld tinkler wife's daft blathers. Set -ye down! Though I winna say ye're walcome, an' I'se fesh Miss Brown.' - -Miss Brown was fetched accordingly, she had overheard high words, and -entered in some surprise. - -'Mrs. Howden,' she said holding out her hand, 'so you have come at -last to ask for the minister. The people seem to have cast us off -altogether. Since he has been sick scarcely one has come to enquire -for him.' - -'Aweel, Miss Mary, an' it's no juist that has brocht me, ill doin' ye -ken maun bring ill feelin'. Whan folk sees the abomination o' -desolation sittin' in the holy place, as the Scripter micht word it, -an the steward o' the Kirk's mysteries gien ower to the lusts o' the -flesh, the douce Christi'n folk beut to hand awa. Touch not, taste -not, haunel not, ye ken what the word says. An' I hae been thinkin', -seein' hoo things hae come round, ye'll be best to tak tent o' yer -bits o' dishes yersel', gin Eppie there can gar it gree wi' her walk -an' conversation as a Christi'n wumman to mind that ill-faured scart -o' a bairn, I see na at she may na keep yer teapat as weel!' So saying -she lifted the cover of her basket, and proceeded to lay out the cups -and saucers on the dresser. - -Mary was too much astonished to say anything. She was glad to see the -ware once more brought within reach of use, seeing that hitherto it -had been a mere embellishment to the glass cupboard in the corner of -Luckie Howden's cabin, a testimony to her piety and helpfulness to the -church; but the cause and the manner of the restitution were beyond -her comprehension. She glanced at Eppie for some explanation, but -Eppie sat with lips compressed in determined silence, a flame of -scarlet indignation burning on either cheek. - -Luckie Howden went on arranging and counting the pieces of crockery. -'Twall cups an' twall sacers, four bread plates, an' twa bowls. Ye'll -find that a' richt, Miss Brown. An' here's the bits o' siller things,' -producing the teapot, over which she passed her hand with a regretful -stroking motion, 'It's gotten neither clure nor dint i' my haunds. A' -siller say ye? An' weel I wat it's bonny. Aiblins it's no sae bricht -an' glintin' as it ance was. "Yer goold an' yer siller are become dim, -yer garments are moth-eaten," that's what the Prophet Ezekil said til -back-slidin' Isril lang syne, an' it's true yet! Wae's me, Miss Brown! -'at the white raiment o' yer puir wanderin' brither, 'at we ance -thocht sae clean an' white, suld be spotted wi' the flesh after a'! -But what's been dune i' the secret chaumer sall be proclaimed on the -house heads afore lang. My certie! but he's been the lad to draw -iniquity wi' cart ropes! an' to sin wi' the high haund! But it's a' -fand out at last, he'll be peuten til open shame, an' be nae mair a -steward o' the gospel mysteries in Glen Effick!' - - -[Illustration: "Ye'll find that a' richt, Miss Brown." Page 190.] - - -'I don't understand one word you say, Mrs. Howden,' cried Mary in -open-eyed amazement. 'If our things are in your way you are perfectly -right to bring them back, and it will not inconvenience us in the -least to have them here. It was kind in you to give them house-room -when we came to live in the village, and we are obliged to you for -having taken such good care of them. But I don't understand what -ground of offence my brother can have given you, or why you should -speak of him in such extraordinary language.' - -'I'm thinkin' ye'll hae to thole waur langidge nor that afore a's -o'er, Miss Brown. An' aiblins ye ken mair nor ye wad like to let-on. -I'm no yer judge, but we hae scripter for't, 'at refuges o' lees winna -stand.' - -'Think shame, woman!' cried Eppie, unable altogether to keep silence, -though she still restrained herself, fearful of provoking a tempest -and disturbing the sick man. - -'An' what wad I think shame for? It's the ill doer 'at fears the ill -word. I hae cleared my skirts this day. I shack the stour frae my very -feet, an' I'm dune wi' the De'il an' a' his warks!' And shaking out -the folds of her red cloak, with a stamp of either foot, she hobbled -away. - -'What does she mean, Eppie? And whatever it is, the rest of the people -must think it too--Don't deny it, Eppie! you know all about it. I have -seen so much as that in your face for several days. What is it?' - -'It's naething ony sensible body wad heed. Just a wheen senseless -havers. Ne'er fash yer thoomb, Miss Mary! It'll a' blaw ower.' - -Miss Mary was resolute, however, and would be told. She sat herself -down on a stool beside Eppie, and between coaxing and sheer -pertinacity she at last prevailed on the old woman to speak. They sat -together for some time with their heads very close, conversing in -whispers. - -'Oh how could any one believe so monstrous an invention?' she cried at -last, her face suffused with crimson, while she kissed the sleeping -baby, the innocent cause of so much confusion, and returned to her -brother's room. - - - - - CHAPTER XXV. - - _SOPHIA'S ANSWER_. - - -Thursday morning was the opening of a great day in Glen Effick. The -foundation stone of the new Church was to be laid, and from the most -distant corners of Kilrundle parish the people came streaming in -across the braes, more numerously even than for the Sunday meeting. -The Session had at last come to an agreement with Widow Forester for -half of her kaleyard on which to build their Church. The foundation -was already dug, and every owner of a horse and cart had agreed to -contribute so many days' labour towards delivering the materials on -the ground. And now the work was to be inaugurated with preaching and -prayer, that it might be brought to a speedy and prosperous issue. The -good people having neither oil nor wine to bestow in cementing the -stones, had resolved to pour forth a copious oblation of words devout -and stirring, and to celebrate their triumph over Laird and Law in -true democratic fashion, by a general gathering and unstinted -speechification. - -The hot stillness of September days had passed away, and the fresh -cool brightness of October had succeeded. In low-lying hollows the -first hoar-frost of the season was melting into dew before the -approaching noon, and straggling flecks of cloud swam merrily overhead -in the breezy sky. The crimson of the moors was withering somewhat -into rusty brown, but the birch along the watercourses had ripened -into sprays of gold, while the distant hills stood out against the sky -in violet and blue. The trooping worshippers displayed all their -Sunday bravery of apparel, but the solemnity of their Sabbath -demeanour they had felt at liberty to leave behind. The children ran -hither and thither shouting their loudest, while the seniors chatted -cheerily as they went, carrying their dinners in heavy baskets between -them, and resolved to make the most of the day's 'ploy.' - -Along the village street the people trickled in a continuous stream, -and by and by Ebenezer Prittie and Peter Malloch put up the shutters -on their respective shops. Donald Maclachlan shut up the smithy, and -Angus Eldrecht, the wheel-wright, closed his yard, and stepped off -with their wives to the meeting place on the brae-side, where Mr. -Dowlas and a reverend brother of the presbytery were already in the -tent waiting to conduct the exercises. - -Mrs. Sangster, with her daughter, was on the ground betimes, -discussing with unwonted affability the terrible scandal to the elders -and more prominent people near her. She occupied, of course, the -beadle's special chairs, and as the time to commence the service drew -near, she beckoned to her Stephen Boague and his wife, and seated them -beside herself and daughter. It was a public recognition of their -exemplary character she considered, which would fully reward the woman -for her hospitality the day she was lost in the mist, and was quite -inexpensive besides. When Mary Brown presently appeared, the good -woman would fain have yielded up to her her accustomed seat under the -matronly wing of the congregation's only lady; but Mrs. Sangster -requested that she would not move. 'I could not countenance Mr. Brown -or his family,' she said, 'under the circumstances.' So the poor woman -had to remain; but she no longer felt promotion in her place of -honour, and all her acquaintances looked askance, and wondered at her -'upsettin' impidence.' Mrs. Sangster was too busy with her 'spy-glass' -and psalm-book to see the approach of Mary, who coloured with -resentment at what, since Eppie's explanation, she now perfectly -understood, and looked about for another seat. The Laird had been -watching his wife's proceedings with cynical amusement, he now came -forward and removed his daughter to the elder's bench, setting the -chair she had been occupying beside her, and seating Mary upon it, -while he took his own stand beside them. - -Mrs. Sangster's spy-glass dropped upon her book; amazement and -indignation paralyzed her, which was fortunate, or she might have -exhibited a tantrum, even in that sacred assembly. She! that -congregation's Deborah without a Barak, as a fawning preacher had once -described her at family prayers, to be thus flouted before them all! -And the wholesome discipline she had meant to exercise in support of -the public morals to be turned round upon herself! and this, too, by -her own husband! the man bound to protect, honour, and obey her! For -_of course_ he was bound so to do, whatever Saint Paul, or any other -old bachelor who knew nothing about it, might say. Was she not the -more advanced Christian? and in right of her higher standing in '_The -Kingdom_' entitled to instruct, advise, and reprove those on a lower -level. Oh! how should she punish him and bring him to book? There was -the difficulty. Scolding would not do. She had tried that before, and -it did not succeed. He was apt to laugh in her face, and sometimes -even to scold back in return, in an altogether dreadful and appalling -way--for an elder--if she persisted; and then nothing, not even her -unfailing Christian meekness could secure her the last word, which was -her due as a lady. She thought of putting him on low diet for a -while.--'And it would serve that monkey Sophia right, too, for -sympathising with her father. See how contentedly she cottons up to -Mary Brown!' thought she. But she did not like bad dinners herself, -and it would come out if she had a sweetbread quietly in her own room. -Besides, she had attempted a penitential regimen of cold mutton once -before, and it had not ministered to his spiritual needs; on the -contrary, he had broken out in a way that was simply dreadful, and had -threatened her with a housekeeper if she could not keep a better -table. Her crosses were indeed many and grievous, and she might have -grown weak and hysterical in reviewing them, but that other cares and -anxieties demanded her present attention. Surely there was something -rubbing up against her in a familiar and unbecoming way. She turned, -looked, and almost leaped into Mrs. Boague's lap. Stephen's largest -collie was titillating his spine by pushing it up and down against her -new plum-coloured silk gown. - -'Haud steady, mem! The folk 'ull see ye, an' ye're nae licht wecht -forby!' whispered Mrs. Boague. 'Ne'er mind the dugs, an' they winna -fash wi' _you_. An' de'il a yelp or snap wull they gie, sae lang as ye -dinna staund on their tails.' - -Touseler, finding his scratching-post withdrawn, stretched himself on -the ground to sleep out the sermon, and Mrs. Sangster resumed her -chair. Her tranquility was of short duration. First would come a tug -at her parasol, accompanied by a strangled yelp, as a puppy having -swallowed the tassel would struggle to escape, like a trout on a -fish-hook; and next it would be her shawl. A dirty little finger would -be found tracing the flowing lines of its elegant embroidery, or the -corner would be pulled down, that the critics squatting on the sward -might more conveniently scrutinize the elaborate design. - -When Sophia's chair was removed it had left an open spot in the crowd, -to Mrs. Sangster's left, and as nature abhors a vacuum, the unplaced -material of her party had flowed in to fill it. She looked down on a -confused knot of dog and child life, heads and tails, legs and arms -swaying and kicking to and fro in silent happiness. Had a quadruped or -a biped given tongue in the 'House of God,' there would have been -whipping behind the first big boulder-stone on the home-going, and -they had all felt the weight of Stephen's hand at sometime, so were -wary; but so long as silence was kept, and they remained beside the -shepherd and his wife, they might kick, roll, and be happy as they -pleased. - -Poor Mrs. Sangster's attention was fully occupied in protecting her -dress from the busy fingers of the little boys and girls, and in -seeing that the dogs did not make a coverlet of her skirts; and she -vowed never again to 'take notice' of people from the 'lower orders,' -who so little appreciated the honour she did them, and made themselves -so utterly abominable with their ill-reared dogs and children. She -lost all the good of their sermons as she told the reverend orators -that evening at supper, and was far too concerned for what might -befall her own draperies, to give much heed to the Rev. Æmelius -Geddie's description of the curtains of fine linen and badger skins, -blue and scarlet, prepared for the Tabernacle in the wilderness, and -his tender appeal to the women of Glen Effick to go and do likewise. -Mr. Dowlas described the building of Solomon's Temple, its joists of -cedar covered with plates of pure gold, the chapiters, the -pomegranates, and the wreathen-work, the brazen pillars and the -vessels of pure gold. He interspersed these with spiritual -interpretations and mystical images drawn from the Prophets, till the -hearers were brought under a general vague impression of splendour and -solemnity, they could not have explained wherefore; but they all -agreed that it was a 'graund discoorse,' and 'very refreshing,' and -that they had entered on a high, noble and arduous work, in proposing -to build themselves a little meeting house; and that, though propriety -forbade their saying so, the Divine Head of the Church was greatly -beholden to them, and that they might look, as their certain due, for -large amounts of blessing, spiritual and temporal, to requite their -exertions in church-building, as well as that heroic penny-a-week to -the Sustentation Fund. - -Like other fine things, the sermon came to an end at last, and after -psalms and benediction, it was announced that they would proceed in -procession to the site of their future church, where reports of the -different committees would be received, and addresses given, after -which the foundation stone would be laid with prayer and praise. - -The congregation then broke up, and in the confusion Sophia got the -opportunity she had been desiring of a quiet word with Mary. -Circumstances had befriended her wonderfully she thought, when her -father had brought her away from her mother, and placed her beside -Mary Brown. She had always been fond of Mary, but now she felt a -sisterly drawing towards her which she had not known before. Mary was -her junior by about a year, but was quicker and earlier to mature, and -this had sometimes made Sophia feel a rawness in herself, and a -general slowness and obtuseness by comparison, in a way approaching as -near to jealousy as her somewhat stolid and easy-going disposition was -capable of experiencing. But as Mary neither assumed nor probably was -aware of any advantage, this feeling in great measure slept; and now, -when Sophia's development had advanced as with a bound, under the -stirrings of awakening emotion, the latent grudge was altogether -overborne. She sat up very close to her and pressed her softly. Mary -was surprised. Demonstration of the faintest kind was something new in -Sophia, and altogether unexpected. Her heart was sore at the -unkindness of the parishioners to her brother, and their haste to -adopt unwarrantable and improbable suspicion against him; and that -Mrs. Sangster; who had assumed to play the rôle of mother to her in -her lonely position, should turn and publicly visit the imaginary -misdeeds of her brother on her head, had been very grievous. She -assumed that Sophia meant to signify her disbelief in the idle rumours -afloat, and, accepting the proffered sympathy, she returned the -friendly pressure with grateful warmth. The two read from the same -bible and psalm-book, and sat so close that the Laird was able to find -room on the bench beside his daughter, just as he was beginning to -think a two hours' stand rather a heavy penalty for interfering with -his wife's absurdity. - -'Mary!' whispered Sophia, when the assemblage was breaking up, 'I want -you to tell your brother that I received his letter. Whoever told him -that I am engaged is altogether mistaken. Nobody ever asked me to--be -engaged, and there is no one who could have any right to do so. I -would have answered his letter, but mamma forbade me; she even says I -must not come and see you, while some report or other, I don't know -what it is, is going about. So I have been waiting for an opportunity -to speak to you. Mamma says papa does not believe the report, so--' -here the words died away and the colour deepened on her cheeks--'but -papa does not know of his letter to me.' Mary leant forward to bestow -a kiss, but Sophia started back under a sharp prod from the parasol of -her mother, who was eagerly reaching over the shoulders of the -intervening crowd. - -'Sophia Sangster! what are you lingering there for? Don't you see -everybody is on the move? Come to your mother's side, your proper -place, this moment.' - -It was not a happy half-hour for Sophia that followed. The maternal -plumage was sadly ruffled, and in the 'preening' that ensued to -readjust the feathers mental as well as physical (for the silk gown -was rumpled as much as the self-complacency was disturbed), not a few -stray pecks fell to her portion. That her husband should have carried -away her own girl from her side was almost intolerable; only, till she -could devise a way to punish him which she had not yet discovered, she -must bear that; but the girl had acquiesced without sign of reluctance -or remonstrance, had consented to be separated from her own mother -with perfect equanimity, and in spite of all that had passed, had -seemed entirely comfortable beside Mary Brown, notwithstanding the -maternal taboo. She had had little leisure for observation. Her gown, -her shawl, the children, the sheep-dogs had made constant demands on -her attention, and when she looked for succour to the shepherd and his -wife, they were drinking in the sumptuous splendours of Solomon's -temple, and had no thought for the turbulent little Bethel at their -feet. Once however she had found time to glance across and was -disgusted to see Sophia and Mary singing amicably from one book and -evidently on the best of terms. - -'You're a saft feckless tawpie, Sophia Sangster!' she enunciated with -much emphasis, as she and her daughter were carried along in the -stream of the procession. 'It seems to me sometimes that you have no -more sense than a sookin' turkey!' Mrs. Sangster rather prided herself -on her English, which she considered equal to that of any body on her -side of London or Inverness. These were the two seats of perfect -speech she considered; but failing them Auchlippie could hold its own -against Edinburgh, St. Andrews, or anywhere else, and was decidedly a -better model than her son Peter since he had adopted a Lancashire -brogue. Nevertheless when she became 'excited' (_i.e_. angry), she -admitted that she had to fall back on the pith and vigour of her -native Doric with its unlimited capacity for picturesque vituperation. - -'It's not from me you take your fushionless gates! That comes o' the -donnart Sangster bluid in you, I'm thinking. But what possessed you to -take up publicly like yon with Mary Brown, when you know I want you to -steer clear of her just now? When the Presbytery has taken the matter -up, it will be proper enough to bestow patronage and show sympathy for -the poor girl; but meanwhile we have a testimony to bear, and it will -not do to countenance evil doers or their families.' - -'Mamma, I don't know what you are talking about.' - -'Of course not. It's no subject for a young girl to know anything -about; but you must not think in your ignorance to set yourself above -the advice and opinion of your mother, who knows all about it.' - -Sophia said no more. To speak was but to stir the fire of her mother's -wrath. She held her peace, and left the flame to burn itself out, or -smother in its own smoke and ashes. She simply did not attend, and -when her mother, stopping for breath, turned to survey, as it were, -the field of battle, or at least to view the result of her onslaught -as depicted in the girl's face, she was smiling to a bare-footed -urchin who trotted by her side, Stephen Boague's youngest, who had -taken a fancy to the gay apparel of Mrs. Sangster, and still kept it -in view. - -'Let that de'il's buckie alone, Sophia Sangster, and attend to me! It -has been pulling the fringes of my shawl for the past two hours, and -made it smell of peat-reek and moss-water so that I shall never be -able to put it on again.' - -The meeting was held in the field adjoining the excavation made for -the church's foundation. Mr. Sangster was in the chair and supported -on either hand by a minister, and there were chairs in front for Mrs. -Sangster, her daughter, and Miss Brown, to which the matron, somewhat -mollified by this observance, was ushered, when she very quickly -appropriated the remaining seat for her shawl, so that there might be -no vacant place for any one else. She might have spared herself the -trouble. Mary was not in the crowd, and if she had been, would not -have desired to sit beside her. - -At the close of the religious exercises, Mary had hastened home to her -brother, from whom she had already been longer away than at any -previous time since he was taken ill. She would not have attended the -meeting at all, but for his desire that she should; and she was glad -to return home at the earliest moment, for since she had learned its -proneness to think evil without cause, she loathed Glen Effick utterly -and all its affairs. Her brother had been drowsing, but he woke up at -her entrance, and asked to hear what had been done. - -'Just the usual thing. Mr. Geddes preached about the Tabernacle, and -Mr. Dowlas about Solomon's Temple.' - -'Ah! I can imagine it; very pretty and flowery, no doubt. But I think -when so many were collected they might have had something more useful -and more likely to do good to the poor people. "A dish of metaphor," -as my good father used to say, "is light feeding for hungry souls."' - -'They did not think so, I assure you; they seemed quite delighted; -though I confess I rather wearied over the inventory of the golden -vessels, and I saw Sophia Sangster yawn once at any rate.' - -'Was Sophia there?' - -'Oh yes. And by the way she sent a most particular message to you; or -at least she seemed particularly anxious that you should receive it.' - -'Ah!' said Roderick, raising himself, 'tell me quick.' - -'I declare, Roddie, you look quite excited! She asked me to tell you -she had received your letter--You rogue! What have you been writing to -her? I remember now how restless you were one morning till you had got -Joseph sent off to Auchlippie! But I, simple soul, supposed it was -Session business with the Laird. To think I should be so obtuse with a -little comedy going on under my very nose! But, ah me! It has been -more like tragedy of late, you have been so ill, and we have both been -so lonely.' - -'But, to return to your comedy, or at least to Sophia, what more?' - -'She said she had got your letter! Was not that enough? She did not -_say_ it was a sonnet to her eyebrows--but I suspect, she blushed so -prettily--yet, now I think of it, it was not a sonnet you sent, for I -was to tell you that she is not engaged--that there is no one who has -a right to ask her to be engaged. You must have been jealous, Roddie! -Who was it? And she said she would have written, but her mother -forbade her.' - -'Oh that tiresome Duchess! What ridiculous fancy has she got in her -head now, I wonder? I feel quite ashamed when I recall the black -thoughts I have been nourishing against that poor harmless cockney or -whatever he is, Mr. Wallowby; all along of some absurd scheme of hers, -which rushed to her lips in her agitation that day on the hill. Poor -Duchess! She must have a bee in her bonnet; but she is a sad worry.' - -'She is far worse that that!--hard, evil-minded, worldly.' - -'Hush, Mary! "Judge not," et cetera. But proceed!' - -'Sophia told me that her mother says there is some rumour afloat which -must be cleared up before she can have communication with us; and, in -fact, the tiresome old thing did her best, not only to cut me to-day, -but to keep Soph away too; but the Laird, honest man, was too many for -her.' - -'You do not mean to say that that abominable Duchess was publicly rude -to _you?_ I could not stand that! Though she may do or say to me as -she likes (and she generally does;) for I do not suppose any sensible -man could seriously mind her.' - -'Oh no! The Laird came to the rescue like a man and a gentleman, as he -always does; and, in fact, if the Duchess had behaved herself, and -Soph and I had been under her wing, I do not believe the poor -oppressed child would have had courage or opportunity to send you your -message, sir, so do not be harbouring bad thoughts of the poor -Duchess! Ah! ah! And by the way, there is more message yet! Sophia -says her father does not believe the rumours which her mother has been -so ready to accept; and--but she blushed and stammered and I could not -make sense of it, for you see I was not in your confidence, Mr. -Prudence--but, if I were an old woman and understood about those sort -of things, it sounded suspiciously like bidding you carry your tale to -'Papa!' Ha! Have I found you out, old gentleman? I suppose I may go -for a governess now; I may be losing my place as house-keeper any -day!' And she laughed merrily while Roderick coloured and looked -confused, but intensely happy. - -When the Doctor came to visit his patient that afternoon, he was -astonished at the improvement in his condition, and quite confirmed in -his belief as to the wisdom of his own prescriptions, and general -course of treatment. - - - - - CHAPTER XXVI. - - _FAMA CLAMOSA_. - - -The meeting was an undeniable success. The chairman called on his -reverend supporters for addresses, which they made in their warmest -and most florid style. They recalled the rebuilding of Jerusalem and -the Temple, when each man laboured with his sword by his side, and -worked, and watched, and fought by turns; till every hearer present -believed that he might emulate Nehemiah and Zerubbabel by contributing -to the collection, and began to finger his loose change with a view to -doing it. There were stirring references, too, to John Knox, -(especially to the scene at Holyrood, when he spoke back to the -Queen,) to George Wishart and Andrew Rutherford, Margaret Wilson, John -Brown of Priesthill, martyred by 'Clavers,' Jenny Geddes with her -creepie attacking the Dean of Edinburgh, and other Scots Worthies. - -Then followed reports, statements of funds and calculations of -expenses from the Deacons, and finally speeches from all who chose to -address the meeting. This last feature in the proceedings was -especially popular. Every greybeard in the crowd was in turn urged and -goaded by his admiring family and neighbours to step forward, and -when, after much shame-faced trepidation, he had hummed and stuttered -through a few sentences and would finally come to a dead stop and -return to his friends, he had earned the self-satisfied consciousness -that he was a potential orator, and that 'gin the Lord had but granted -him schulin' in his youth, he might have wagged his pow in a poopit -wi' the best.' - -At length the hoary grandsires had all spoken, the fathers, the sons, -even the 'halflin callants,' began to feel the stirrings of ambitious -eloquence. Luckie Howden, too, felt movings to rehearse her testimony -in favour of good morals, and Brother Dowlas saw it was time to draw -the line. In a whisper he called attention to the practice of Saint -Paul, who suffered not a woman to teach--a sentiment which was -overheard by Mrs. Sangster, and elicited from her a look of most -contemptuous wonder, but nevertheless received the adhesion of the -Laird. They therefore proceeded to lay the foundation stone, with -appropriate prayer and praise, and the proceedings came to an end. - -At this moment, Mr. Dowlas came forward and stated in a loud voice -that he had been requested to intimate 'that the Session and Deacons' -Court were requested to assemble for special and important business at -the Post Office, immediately after the close of the present meeting.' -Mr. Sangster was taken by surprise. He asked on whose authority the -intimation had been made, but the reverend announcer replied that a -written notice had been placed in his hand, and that he and Mr. Geddie -had been requested to be present. - -The elders and deacons were already assembled when Mr. Sangster and -the ministers entered the place of meeting, Joseph bringing up the -rear in his most official manner, yet diffidently,--as if uncertain -whether he were wanted,--but still desirous to know what was going -forward, and willing to give weight to it by the presence of the -beadle. He stood by the door with his hand meekly before his mouth, -and surveyed the silent assemblage, whom he afterwards described to -Jean Macaulay as resembling 'a curran hoolets wi' their muckle -blinkin' een, lookin' terrible wise an' sayin' naething.' Perhaps it -was in their silence that their wisdom lay. - -Ebenezer Prittie, being host, or at least the party in occupation of -the premises, rose to his feet, and after clearing his voice, proposed -that the ruling elder, Mr. Sangster of Auchlippie, now take the chair, -and that the clerk of session take the desk and minute the -proceedings. - -Mr. Sangster rose in reply, saying that before he did so, he desired -to understand the nature of the meeting over which he was asked to -preside, as he knew nothing about it but the intimation which had been -read after the meeting just closed and while it was dispersing. - -Ebenezer replied that it was the meeting adjourned from Monday, as -agreed on, that they might consult with the two reverend members of -Presbytery, who were now kind enough to be present. - -The Laird answered that the joint meeting of Session and Deacons' -Court on the Monday, had concluded its business and been adjourned -_sine die_ by their acting minister who presided, and that when he -(the speaker) subsequently conversed on the same evening with his -friends, whom he had been happy once more to meet in that place, he -had dwelt strongly and without being gainsaid, on the fact that their -meeting as a Church Court having been dissolved by the presiding -officer, that which they were then holding was merely a friendly -conversation, and without authority. And he begged to inform the -person, whoever he might be, at whose instance they had now come -together, that it was altogether '_ultra vires_' (his voice hung -emphatically on the Latin words, and they greatly impressed his -auditors) for the Session to assemble itself at the pleasure of any of -its members, and to act as a court. Mr. Brown as acting minister was -'_ex officio_' (more emphasis and deep impression) the proper caller -and president of such courts; and failing him, it was the ruling elder -on whom it devolved to summon and preside over the Court. But the -minister had no knowledge of,--far less had he called or sanctioned -their meeting,--and for himself he could not, as a constituted -authority in the Church, be party to a proceeding so irregular and -subversive of all Church government, as the course proposed. - -'But Mester Sangster,' put in Ebenezer, 'ye canna but say that we met -here on Monday nicht, and gin ye dinna ken that we agreed to come -thegither again the day, to consult wi' the twa ministers here -present, it's yer ain faut. Ye gaed awa at yer ain wull, an' naebody -cud tak on him to bid ye bide.' - -'Brethren,' interposed Peter Malloch, with an elated but solemn smile, -'what say ye to ca't a' a meetin' o' the Deacons' Coort? An' we could -meenit it a' in our books,--I'm thinkin' that's our plan. I'm the -convener, an' I hae a richt to convene my ain coort!' - -'Certainly, Mr. Convener,' responded the Laird, 'you may call a -Deacons' Court; but on what point is it that you want the advice of -the Eldership here present? Will the treasurer's books not balance? -Have some of the collectors failed to make their returns? Or what is -it?' - -'Hoot, Laird! ye ken just fine! The treasurer's a' richt, an' sae are -the collectors. It's the minister an' his bairn we're after, as ye ken -brawly.' - -'I regret then, Mr. Convener, to have to remind you that your court -has no jurisdiction. Faith, morals, and discipline, are the exclusive -province of the Session; and I for one protest against the Deacons' -Court presuming to touch such matters.' - -'Presumin'! quotha!' interjected Andrew Semple. 'An' hasna ilka auld -wife e'y Glen been presumin', as ye ca' 't, for twa week back an' -mair?' - -Here Mr. Geddie felt compelled to intervene, and pour the oil of -evangelical sweetness on the troubled waters. He was to dine and spend -the night along with Mr. Dowlas at Auchlippie, therefore he would fain -have agreed with his host; at the same time he had no intention of -being balked of a sensation, and what promised to be a most -interesting hunt after recent iniquity, at the very outset. - -'It appears to me, my friends,' he said in his smoothest accents, -'that the points of order raised by our excellent brother have great -weight, and are taken with that clear and perspicuous wisdom which -have made his opinions a tower of strength to the church in turning -back the army of the aliens; and therefore while the Deacons' Court -are manifestly moved by a holy zeal for righteousness, such as we -might have expected at their hands, it will be best that they do not -take action officially in this matter.' - -'I defy them to do it!' interjected the Laird, little mollified by the -unctuous adjectives. - -'It is also not to be expected,' continued this reverend Achitophel, -'that our erring brother'---- - -'Prove the error,' muttered the Laird. - -'That our brother who has wandered from the paths of holy living, but -whom we all love (and brethren, I may add that he is still but young, -and the flesh is weak)! It is not to be expected that he should call a -Court to investigate into his own shortcomings; or that until he has -been brought to see and admit the heinousness of his offences, and -that they have all been found out (for that, brethren, I have always -observed is a powerful lever in awakening a slumbering conscience)--It -is when the poor sinner has discovered that his refuges of lies will -not stand, that they are all swept away like mists before the winds of -indignation, and that the clear light of truth is shining down on his -nakedness, and wretchedness, and moral wounds; it is then that the -poor sinner comes forth with tears in his eyes and sackcloth on his -loins, and cries aloud, "I have sinned."' - -Here the orator stopped for breath. He was moved by his own pathetic -elocution, and his picture of the returning prodigal. Also, he had got -entangled among his parts of speech, and lost his way among the -parentheses; and now he scarcely knew where he was, or what he had -intended to say next. - -'Are you not condemning a man before you have even heard the -accusation brought against him?' inquired the Laird; but without -gaining much attention from any one. The audience, in fact, was just -then uttering a sigh of satisfaction over the moving words of the -previous speaker, which were as impressive as a doleful sing-song -could make them, besides being in accordance with their own opinion; -and nothing is more interesting and weighty than our own sentiments -uttered by another, with a fluency and copiousness which we could not -have lent them. It is like looking at ourselves through a glorifying -medium, contemplating our own portrait from the brush of a -distinguished court painter; which, judged by the walls of Royal -Academy Exhibitions, is the highest, as well as the best paid form of -art. The golden bowls and pomegranates of the morning were nothing to -this! it was as good as a sermon, and 'so practical,' as some one -whispered. Nothing like a practical sermon! my friend; and much -tilting at sin. Always premising that the sin is not yours nor mine -(which would be personal and rude), it makes one feel virtuous by -proxy. - -Mr. Geddie looked over for a suggestion how to proceed, to brother -Dowlas, who was quietly enjoying the scene. He knew what it was to be -flown away with by Pegasus, and then dropped helpless in a swamp. It -had happened to himself; but he was older now, and it was not -disagreeable to see his young friend meet the reward of his -overforwardness in this miscarriage. - -Mr. Dowlas suggested that the present was properly to be considered a -meeting of members and office-bearers of the congregation, to -investigate certain rumours affecting the character of their acting -minister, and to decide what action, either by way of petition to the -Presbytery or otherwise, as might seem most expedient was to be taken -thereanent. - -'Ay! Thereanent, Elluck! Hear ye that?' whispered a neighbour to Alec -Lamont, 'That's juist what they say e'y Presbytery. I ken, for I hae -heard them mysel'! A graund head for business he's gotten, that Mester -Dowlas. We's gang the richt gate to wark noo, I'm thinkin'. An' hear -till him noo, Elluck!' he continued. 'Hear til him noo!' while poor -Alec was straining his ears to listen, and was only prevented by the -chatter of his talkative neighbour. - -Mr. Dowlas went on to propose that the postmaster, Mr. Prittie, act as -secretary to the meeting, which was carried with general applause; and -Ebenezer took a new quill pen from his drawer, examined the nib -critically on his nail, and then placed it thoughtfully between his -teeth, while he took his stand at the little shop desk. Observing the -tall stool he bethought him that a chairman was wanted, and forthwith -reciprocated the holy man's politeness by proposing that he take the -chair. Mr. Dowlas bearing in mind his own bulk, and surveying the tall -and slender legs of the stool, demurred, suggesting that the chair -should be filled by one of themselves--the Laird in fact. The Laird -declined with emphasis. He said that it would not be long till they -would not only regret, but be heartily ashamed of what they were -doing, that he would not compromise himself in their proceedings, even -so far as to be present, but that he thought it well that a friend of -both sides, who had not yet committed himself to a judgment without -evidence, should be present, to prevent mischief as far as possible. - -No one ventured to retort. The majesty of wealth and prosperity -forbade that; but it may be safely said that for the moment the -kindness and goodwill of a lifetime did little to mitigate the -indignation begotten of that rebuke. - -With some trepidation and much care, Mr. Dowlas clambered up to his -lofty perch, from which he looked giddily down. He could not now -_rise_ to speak, and there was nothing so abstruse going forward that -he need come down to the level of his hearers, wherefore he remained -where he was, and like the Queen addressing her Parliament, he spoke -seated. - -He looked down over Ebenezer and his clean sheet of paper and directed -him how he should begin the minutes of the meeting, and then informed -his auditors that they might now consider the meeting as constituted, -and that it would be in order for some one to bring before it a -categorical statement of the business which had brought them together. - -All eyes were turned on Ebenezer, but that terrible word 'categorical' -had proved a stumbler to him. Looks, winks and nods were in vain, -because he had resolved not to see them, and was busy remaking his -pen, and flicking the point with his thumb that the hair split might -come straight. Next they looked to Peter Malloch, but _he_ was -persistently looking to some one else, so that the electric influence, -if there was any, was simply passed along further by him as a -conductor, and nothing came of it. - -'Is there no one,' said Mr. Dowlas at length, 'who will state the -purpose of this meeting? We have nothing before us which we can -consider or come to a decision upon, surely some one present could -repeat the charges and statements on which Mr. Geddie and myself were -induced to attend here.' - -His eye had fallen on that of Andrew Semple, who was looking up and -listening with all attention, and there, unwittingly fixed, it had -remained, till Andrew feeling himself singled out and addressed -individually, stood up as by special command, and after some -introductory stammering, found voice. - -'It's little I can say 'at I _ken_, Mester Dowlas, an' I see na what -for ye suld look to me to mak yer statement; but seein' ye're a -minister 'at kens what's richt, an' wad na be for leadin' simple folk -'at lippens to ye, intil harm, I'm no mindin' gin I say what I can. A -weel, sir, ye see it was just the very day our Davie was ta'en down -wi' the jandies. It may hae been on a Tuesday? Na, it was Wadnesday, -I'm gye an' sure it was a Wadnesday. I had gotten thegither a score o' -yows, an' I was just gaun to herd them down by til Elluc Powie's; an' -the gudewife she comes to me an' she says, "Andra," says she, "I'm -sair misdoubtin' but our Davie"--or na! It was "that puir bairn Davie" -she ca'd him. Ay! thae was her very words, "that he's gotten the -jandies, an', gin yer road's through Glen Effick, I wuss ye wad -just rin in as ye gang by, an' tell my Auntie Lillie, she's just -graund on the jandies." An', says I, "gudewife, I'll do yer biddin'." -An' sae, me an' my yows, an' my dug Bawtie--ay it was--Bawtie, I'm -thinkin'--Mustard had gotten a lang jag in's forepaw, sae he bed at -hame. Aweel, as I was sayin'--' - -'Hurry up! Andra,' whispered the Laird, 'or it will be supper time -before you get through! I want to get home.' - -'The truith's better nor rubies, Laird! speer the minister there gin -it's no! I wull no lee, for a' the lairds atween here an' Fruchie! an' -it's a sair job to be mindin' byganes. But, as I was sayin', minister, -we was just fornent the smiddie, (me, an' the yows, ye ken, an' -Bawtie) whan wha suld I see but Auntie Lillie hersel, an' says I to -her, "Hoo's a' wi' ye, Auntie?" says I--Na! that's no hit. It was her -'at says to me, "Andra Semple," says she, "but the sicht o' you's gude -for sair eyen," says she, an' syne she speered for the gudewife. An' I -up an' telled her hoo our Davie was down wi' the jandies, an' her, she -was sair afflicket to hear tell o't, for she's a rael kindly auld -body. An' says she to me, "It's just trouble an' affliction a' round," -says she, "I'm thinkin' it's the days of the end 'at's comin' to -pass," says she. "An' there's nane to lippen til. We're just born til -evil as the sparks flee up. An' there's non that doeth gude, no not -wan," for she's weel grundet e'y scripter, our Auntie Lillie. "An' -ye'll no hae been hearin' what's come o'er our minister," says she, -"Him we a' tuk for sic a sonsie honest laad, an' a gude!--aweel gin a' -the folk says," says she, "be true, he's gaen clean wrang a' -thegither." An' sae she up an' telled me a' 'at a'body kens a'ready; -an' ye a' ken't, an' that's just hoo I cam to hear tell o't at the -first. An' sae I hae telled ye a' I ken.' - -'But you have told us nothing at all,' said the Laird, 'except that -your Auntie Lillie has skill with the "Jandies," and it was not that -we assembled to hear about, though it is a far more useful thing to -know than the other stuff. I think we had better go home!' - -'Patience! brethren,' said the chairman, 'let us cultivate a calm and -judicious frame of mind. What was it, Andrew, that your aunt told you -about the minister?' - -'Hear-say evidence!' interjected the Laird. - -'Not at all! It is not evidence in the legal sense we are after at -present, simply a beginning of some kind,--an allegation, a statement -to be afterwards sifted. Now, Andrew Semple, what was it your aunt -told you about Mr. Brown?' - -'Aweel, sir, she telled me o' the bairn 'at auld Eppie Ness was takin' -tent on; an' I says, ne'er misdoubtin' wrang, ye ken, says I, "It's -juist like him; it's him 'at's aye doin' gude." An' Auntie Lillie she -just leugh, an' gae a kin' o' glint o' the e'e, an' syne she gae the -ither nicker, an' says she, "Andra," she says, "Semple's yer name, an' -simple's yer natur! It's his ain bairn, bless ye!--the pawkie young -sneckdrawer 'at we a' thocht was sae blate an' sae douce. I canna but -laugh whiles, to think sic fules as he has made o' us, for a' it's sae -wrang." "But it's no true," says I. "That's just the fash o't," quo' -she; "it's ower true! There's no a wife e'y hale glen 'at disna ken a' -about it."' - -'You affirm, then, that it is commonly reported, Andrew,' said the -chairman, 'that the infant adopted by Mr. Brown is his own child? Here -is an allegation which the ecclesiastical authorities cannot possibly -let pass unsifted. On what authority is the assertion made?' - -'Just a' body tells the same tale. An' I hae telled ye a' 'at I ken, -an' that's naething!' - -The ice being broken, every one was now willing to contribute a -surmise or a circumstance, till in the end they had worked up the -narrative to the full strength at which it was circulating out of -doors. - -'And now,' said the chairman, 'we have the accusation before us; and -yet, strange to say, there is no accuser. We have here a public -scandal, a case which would give the enemy ground to blaspheme. We -must do our duty to the Church by taking steps for the removal of its -withered branch. Now, who will undertake the Christian duty of -libelling Mr. Brown before the Presbytery? Will the Session do it? or -will the members of Session do it? It is a thing that must be done! -You are all guilty of connivance, and are in fact accessories to the -sin. Will the Session undertake to present the libel?' - -'I won't for one,' said the Laird. 'I believe it to be all idle -tattle. You have not a thread of evidence to support your libel, -whatever.' - -'Is there no one whom we could examine, so as to get at the facts?' - -'Here's Joseph the bederal,' said Peter Malloch. 'The minister's man -sees mair o' him nor ither folk!' - -'I ken naething!' said Joseph, coming forward with a troubled look, -'naething ava! I'm ower weel kenned for a douce an' peacefu' -Christian, for ony body to let on to me, gin their walk and -conversation wasna what they suld be.' - -Mr. Geddie appeared touched, and began to observe more attentively -this excellent person. - -'Did you see Mr. Brown bring home this infant?' - -'No sir; but I saw the bairn in Miss Brown's arms, no lang after.' - -'Where was the child brought from?' - -'Naebody kens.' - -'The child was brought from the seashore,' interposed the Laird, -'where it had been cast by the waves after a shipwreck. Mr. Brown -never made any mystery about that!' - -'Ah yes!' broke forth Mr. Geddie in his most dulcet cadence, 'charity -never faileth! It is good for us to be here! This simple undoubting -credence in our beloved and highly esteemed brother, is refreshing to -the soul, as the grapes of Eshcol in a thirsty land! We know, my -brethren, that we must all become as little children, trustful and -believing in the gospel message. And here is one who has been -nourished on the slopes of Carmel, in the footsteps of the flock, on -whom the heaven has dropped her fatness, and the wisdom of the word -has been his abundant nourishment. He is as a prince among us, and -dwells in his own land among his flocks and herds, with none to make -him afraid. Lo! my brethren, behold the simple and confiding innocency -of our well-beloved brother, and his charity that never faileth, and -his voice that is as the voice of a dove. But ah! my brethren, this is -not the primeval Eden of our earliest progenitors! Alas! the trail of -the serpent can be traced among the flowers! Sin has entered on our -goodly land, and though we should still seek to be harmless as the -dove, the wisdom of the serpent is also required, and we are cautioned -to arm ourselves with that wisdom, even before we show the lovely -gentleness of the bird of beauty, whose wings are sprinkled with -silver, and its feathers with yellow gold. It is a wicked world, my -friends, and while we may well envy our brother his beautiful charity -of soul, we are clearly called upon to take heed to our steps, and not -to be deceived by the cunning craftiness of evil men.' - -An angry flush suffused the forehead of the Laird. I sadly fear he was -not the heavenly-minded person depicted by the gushing preacher. He -certainly would have resented and repudiated the portrait himself, and -would have liked to detect some palpable sign of ironical intent, that -he might quarrel with the man on the spot. But the preacher continued -to regard him with his most lambent and seraphic smile, and in perfect -good faith, without the smallest tinge of mockery. The audience, too, -bore the outpouring in the best possible spirit. It struck them as -very pretty language, and no doubt the Laird deserved it, though that -was scarcely the view of his excellences which had hitherto presented -itself to their minds; however, no doubt, the minister being a learned -man knew best. - -Joseph was the only person present whose sense of humour was in any -way disturbed. When he heard the Laird likened to a bird of beauty, -his wandering eyes alighted on his honour's bald and blushing poll. He -felt tempted to grin, but checked himself in time, raised his eyes to -the ceiling and sighed long and softly, like one recovering breath -after a protracted draught of sweetness. Mr. Dowlas bore the effusion -with entire composure. Such bearing is a necessary gift in the -eloquent professions. He had often had to practise it for the behoof -of his fellows, and he suspected that they too had had reason to use -it for his. He took up the examination. - -'How was this infant brought home? he asked of Joseph. - -'On Patey Soutar's pownie, sir. The minister cam hame ridin'.' - -'Patey Soutar!' ejaculated Ebenezer, 'Patey Soutar the cadger? The -maist ill doin' drucken vagabond e'y parish. Ye may tak yer aith the -minister was after nae gude whan he gaed ridin' Patey Soutar's -pownie!' - -'Did you see him riding it then?' asked the Laird. - -'No sir, but I heard tell o't.' - -'Who told you?' - -'I'm sure I canna say, sir.' - -'Then we must question Soutar himself.' - -'He's the warst leear e'y glen!' cried Joseph, who had no desire that -it should be found out that it was himself who had procured Patey's -pony for the minister. Had that come out, and the object of the -minister's journey, all the suspicion and mystery would have fallen to -pieces; and while he had no deliberate wish to injure the minister -(whom indeed he liked as well as any one, except Joseph Smiley), yet -if somebody else did it, and if Tibbie could be induced to join, why -then his suit to Jean Macaulay might come to something. His attitude, -therefore, may be described as 'expectant,' and his policy, to use his -own words, was 'to haud a man on his ain gate.' - -'And what do you think about this yourself, Joseph?' asked Mr. Geddie. - -'A weel sir! I dinna weel ken just what to think; but my granny had an -auld sayin' 'at there was "aye water whaur the stirk was drowned," an' -I'm feared it's a true ane, for the heart of man rins on evil -continual, we hae Scripter for that, an' the flesh is waik ye ken, -sir, for, after a', ministers are but men, though wi' a hantle grace -they may come to great things, as in yer ain case,' said this polite -Joseph. - -Mr. Geddie was visibly touched,--the tribute was as unexpected as it -was gratifying. 'Evidently a very superior man,' he thought, 'and one -who has the root of the matter in him. He seems to know his Bible well -too.' - -'And now,' said Mr. Dowlas, 'what is to be the result of our -deliberations? We dare not let this matter drop. Of all here present, -who will sustain before the Presbytery the libel that must be drawn?' - -'Who _can_ sustain it?' said the Laird, 'that is what I want to know.' - -'There is clearly a _fama clamosa_ in this parish, against the acting -minister, destroying his usefulness, and injurious to the church. If -some of the office-bearers here present will frame a libel, it will be -the best and most expeditious mode of proceeding; if not, Mr. Geddie -and I must bring this _fama clamosa_ before the Presbytery, that it -may deal with it as in its wisdom may appear best, and I call on you -all here present to assist us in the work! Further, it seems to me -that we should appoint a committee to visit and deal with the -suspected transgressors, in all faithfulness and love. Who knows but -they may be brought to a due sense of their offences, and may make -confession (which would simplify proceedings)? Or at any rate such -admissions as they may make, will be of assistance in framing our -libel.' - -'Wha's that he's gaun tae gar confess?' asked Alec Lamont. 'I ne'er -heard the name afore. Phemie wha? I'm thinkin' ye hae her name wrang, -minister!' he continued in a louder voice. 'Her name's no Phemie ava, -it's juist Tibbie Tirpie!' - -Alec was speedily reduced to silence by his neighbours, and Mr. Dowlas -went on. - -'I have important duties at home which will call me away to-morrow, -but I propose that the committee to call on and deal with the parties -under suspicion, be as follows:--To represent the Presbytery, Brother -Geddie, who, I feel sure, will see it his duty to remain over, Mr. -Sangster and Mr. Prittie to represent the Eldership, Mr. Peter Malloch -the Deacons and congregation.' - -'For myself,' said the Laird, 'I will accompany your deputation to -wait on Mr. Brown, if it were only to show him that there are some who -believe in him still; but as for visiting the young woman who has had -the ill luck to fall under the suspicion of this meeting, I must crave -to be excused. How any man can think of going on such an errand to a -lonely old woman and her daughter is beyond my comprehension. For -myself, I could not do it.' - -'Duty, brother! duty!' cried Mr. Geddie. 'That should be the watchword -of every true soldier of the cross! Likings and dislikes will go for -nothing in the eyes of true wisdom when duty calls, and _her_ ways are -ways of pleasantness and all her paths are peace!' - - - - - CHAPTER XXVII. - - _DEALING WITH A SINNER IN LOVE AND FAITHFULNESS_. - - -The next day Roderick, having slept well, was greatly refreshed, and -felt strong enough to move to his easy chair by the fire. Mary had -heaped up the peat and coppice oak on the hearth, and thrown open the -window till the air grew sweet and wholesome, and the clammy damps of -their hovel were dissipated like the nightmares that had been -oppressing his brain all through the past dreary week. - -'And what can the rumours be that Sophie spoke of, Mary?' he asked. 'I -really am curious to know. I suspect they have influenced more people -than that absurd Duchess. That would account for the way the people -have stayed away from me, which has been surprising and even -distressing me a good deal. However, I am getting better now; a day or -two more and I shall be out among them, and I shall find it all out. -But I really feel hurt by their coldness and indifference to me.' - -'Nonsense, Roddie! They are a foolish and ungrateful lot; never mind -them. You must follow the doctor's advice, and go south for the -winter, as soon as you are able to travel. Just look at the walls! -green with damp, and the moisture trickling down the plaster; and yet -this is only October! What will it be in January? It is fine weather -now, and we are burning as much fuel as can be done without setting -the house on fire, and it takes it all to drive the horrid mouldiness -even temporarily out of the air. When winter comes and the rain is -incessant out of doors, except when it snows, perhaps, for a change, -the window must be kept closed, and the mouldiness and the damp will -turn the place into a very cave, and, as the doctor said, after this -attack a very little matter will drive you into a consumption. You -must not think of it--it terrifies me, and, indeed, I am afraid even -for myself. As for the people--I think they will very likely think -better of you after we are gone. When your charities among them are -suspended, very likely they may think more of you and them. It will -serve them right, and be a warning against wagging their tattling -tongues so freely for the future. Have done with them! They are a -worthless set.' - -'Fie, Mary! What are any of us but poor worthless creatures? We who -have education and an income, should not be hard on the poor souls. -The world must appear very different to them, from what it does to us. -Think what it must be to look into the half empty meal-girnel, and at -the little heap of potatoes, and know that that is all between them -and starvation, till more is earned,--that the smallest miscarriage, a -delay in receiving the weekly wage, a stumble ending in a sprain, -sickness of a child, even an accident to a horse or a car, may entail -a supperless night, or a day of hunger! And when all the energy and -care are needed to stave off from day to day their physical -destitution, is it not too much to look for those more graceful and -spiritual charities which make our life pleasant? It takes so much of -light and heat and moisture to support the mere plant life; and when -these are so stintedly supplied, it is surely over-exacting to look -for the same profusion of flower and fruit on the bare hill-side as -one expects in a sheltered garden. In visiting among the poor, I have -often felt humbled at the view of their sturdy fortitude under -privation, and the extent of their unostentatious charities to one -another. They will stint themselves of the necessaries of life to help -those worse provided than themselves, but they cannot talk about it. -Indeed, the beautiful act and the gracious word are never to be met -with both on the same bush among these wind-swept hills, and I am -thankful to say it is the deed I have oftenest observed. I feel bound -to make allowance for much rugged speech which might sound hard and -uncharitable to a stranger. You may sow mignonette and gilly-flower in -your garden, but it is the heather, tough and sturdy, which grows upon -the braes, and defies the blasts; and that, too, has its beauty and -its sweetness, and we value it less only because it is more abundant -and common.' - -'Poor Roderick! The hebdomadal orator had broken out in him after his -long rest in bed,--the habit of prelecting before a silent auditory, -which many find so difficult to acquire, and which, when learnt, makes -so many long-winded and pragmatical nuisances in private life. It did -not trouble Mary. Born in a manse, she had been used to prelections -all her life, and as the periods would grow longer and more resonant, -she would know that no answer was expected, and would go on with her -work. Perhaps she regarded it as practise for Sunday, most likely she -did not think of it at all, as she settled more steadily to her -tatting and crochet work--the Penelope's web, always beginning and -never apparently coming to an end,--which kept her fingers pleasantly -busy, and left her mind in perfect peace. - -There is no saying to what heights and depths of wisdom, or, mayhap, -nonsense, Roderick might have attained. The muse theologic, after a -week's inaction, inclined to long and discursive flight, but was -interrupted in full career by the entrance of Mr. Sangster. - -Mr. Sangster was always a welcome visitor, being indeed the only man -in the congregation of education or judgment sufficient to warrant -confidential consultation. His rugged face and burly form showed some -discomposure, as, after a greeting of unusual warmth, for him, he took -his seat. - -'This is not a mere friendly visit, Mr. Roderick,' he said;' I wish it -was. I am the advanced guard, if I may say so, of a deputation which -is going to wait on you; and I wish you distinctly to understand, that -I have no sympathy with it whatever. I would say that their errand is -both impertinent and absurd, but that these expressions are not half -strong enough to convey what I think; and, as I have told them, I only -accompany them to assure you that, though they are taking upon them to -speak in the name of your flock, we are not all to be taken as -represented by them. Quite the contrary!' - -Mary flushed and looked disturbed, and presently she left the room. - -Roderick's face showed only astonishment. 'But what is it about, Mr. -Sangster? Mary has used the word '_rumours_' more than once, but she -has not explained it, and you know I have been shut up here for a week -past. There must be something the matter, for none of the people have -come to see me, and scarcely any so far as I know have even asked how -I am. I have been so ill as scarcely to have noted the neglect, but -to-day, when I am again able to think, it seems strange. There are so -many warm hearts among them.' - -'A set of born idiots!' muttered the Laird testily. But at that moment -the door opened, and the deputation appeared. Ebenezer Prittie and -Peter Malloch were grave and austere of demeanour, and dignified -withal, but a little uncertain. They had thought to gather facts, -hints, and experience for this more weighty visitation, in their -preliminary raid on Tibbie Tirpie; but when they had arrived before -her shieling, the door was locked, and no sign of life showed around -the premises but a starveling black cat, which arched its back -threateningly at their approach, and guarded the threshold with a -display of needle-sharp claws and teeth. - -Mr. Geddie's deportment also was grave, but solemn rather than severe. -He was minded that his disapproval should be chastened with much love, -and expected thereby to win the culprit to repentance, and what would -be especially convenient in the present unripe and ill-gotten-up state -of their case, to confession. - -Roderick greeted them with his wonted cordiality, provided them with -seats, and sat down facing them to hear what they would say, while the -Laird twirled his thumbs in expectancy; but they said nothing. - -The laymen exchanged shakes of the head and glances of sorrowful -reprobation at the tranquil composure of this impenitent sinner, then -they sighed despondingly and looked at the carpet, till their clerical -leader should begin. Mr. Geddie had his voice and demeanour attuned to -sad solemnity and love, but the words which these sentiments were to -clothe were slow to arrive. He looked secretly at his intended -penitent, as if inviting him to open the conference, but the -invitation was unheeded. Curiosity and a well-mannered patience only -were apparent in his bearing, and these were gradually changed into -astonished amusement as the silence continued, and perhaps some slight -gleam of mischief, as Mr. Geddie's regard grew more appealing. It was -evident that their errand, whatever it might be, was hardly a friendly -one, or they would not feel so much difficulty in putting it into -words; and there was no reason why he should assist them to get into -position the artillery with which they were about to open a cannonade -on himself. - -Mr. Geddie was an accomplished preacher. He could preach from any -text, at any length, and what was more, on any subject,--at least he -could work round to the subject he meant to discuss, from any text or -subject whatever, in a way the most natural. But a text or starting -point of some kind he must have, and hence his desire that Roderick -should speak. Had he even spoken of the weather, there would have been -an opening to compare present climatic conditions with those which the -impenitent wicked shall hereafter experience, and the whole affair -would then have been open before him, to discourse on such points and -phases as appeared expedient. But this obdurate person remained -persistently silent, instead of helping with becoming meekness to -prepare the discipline for his own shoulders. Mr. Geddie at length -bethought him of his Bible, and, like any other proper-minded person, -had recourse to that in his difficulty. Lifting his voice in a -melancholy cadence, while he opened the book-- - -'Let us read,' he cried, 'for edification and correction, a few of the -Psalms.' - -His voice rose and fell according to his peculiar theory of elocution, -getting fuller and louder as he warmed to the work, till he had read -through the seven penitential Psalms. Then he paused and closed the -book. - -'Brother!' he said, 'the words which we have read are the inspired -expression of contrition and penitence. They give fitting voice to -every agonized soul that has--stumbled in the miry ways of life. -Still, they are but in the general. Each case must bring its own -particular specification of transgression--must bring forth its own -dead out of its secret chambers, must lay bare its own moral wounds, -and expose them to the healing sight of truth. The passer-by may shoot -out the tongue and say, 'Aha!' but thou, my brother, hast purged thy -skirts by open confession and separation, and mayhap thou mayest save -thy soul! And oh! my brother, it is above price!' - -Roderick sat speechless and amazed. Had Mr. Geddie been alone, he -would have supposed that he had lost his wits, or, in view of the -weight he attached to the penitential Psalms and to penitence, which -might perhaps mean penance, especially when coupled with confession, -he might have supposed that he had joined the Jesuits, who were -believed to be especially active at that time, and to be using all -manner of crafty devices to secure converts; but after what the Laird -had said, and in view of the lay delegates present, some other -explanation was needed. - -'And art thou still speechless, Oh, my brother?' the exhorter went on, -'Thou for whom our hearts have yearned with many tears? Think not -longer to shelter in delusive secresy. Thy refuges of lies are -overthrown, thy sin discovered. Come forth and make submission to the -Church, while there is time! lest no place be found for repentance, -though thou seek it with tears!' - -Mr. Geddie's own handkerchief here came into requisition. If we would -raise the sluices of our neighbours' tears, it is not amiss to begin -by letting loose our own. Hysteria is infinitely infectious, as more -than one pulpit orator, blessed with the gift of tears, has found in -his brilliantly successful experience. - -Roderick caught at the momentary silence to enquire what it all meant, -and to what circumstance he could possibly be indebted for the -singular scene. He looked to Ebenezer and Peter Malloch, but both -turned their eyes austerely away, and fixed them on the carpet. He -next addressed the Laird; but the Laird replied that they must state -their own errand, he would not soil his lips with it, and if they had -sense enough left to let decent shame keep them even yet from -speaking, the best thing they could do would be to leave it unsaid, -and trust to the whole exhibition being condoned as a mistake. - -Mr. Geddie, handkerchief in hand, eyes fixed on the ground, was -gathering his forces for a fresh onslaught on this hard and obdurate -conscience. Mr. Sangster's remark appeared singularly inopportune, -treacherous even, and most censurable. What hope of reducing the -garrison if his own followers, his auxiliaries at least, were thus to -turn and raise a diversion in favour of the besieged? He turned to the -Laird in sorrow rather than in anger-- - -'Surely, Mr. Sangster, in view of the heavy responsibility we -yesterday undertook, it is not well to encourage our brother in -hardening his heart!' - -'What responsibilities have you undertaken, Mr. Geddie?' asked -Roderick; 'and who has laid them upon you?' I have listened to your -reading and your exhortation, which I assume are meant for my benefit, -but you have not condescended to explain their object, and I am at a -loss to understand what it is you want.' - -Mr. Geddie looked to his two associates, appalled at such persistence, -and sadly shook his head. The associates shook their heads also, and -looked uncomfortable. They were aware from the attitude of the Laird -that there was a certain degree of thinness as yet in their case, when -it came to be stated in detail without inference and insinuation; and -they had been hoping that the solemn exercises in which they had -engaged were to move the sinner to repentance and compel him to -confess his fault. For they began to fear it might be hard for the -present to prove the fault, and would have preferred to be left only -the easier parts, rebuking the offender, and figuring before the -Church as its zealous and victorious champions. The silence continued. -Mr. Geddie had been dwelling on the moral and emotional aspects of the -case, rather than the circumstantial. To his excellent, and even -devout, but far from legal mind, the question had appeared to be one -of sin, repentance, and church discipline; the more secular -considerations of guilty or not guilty, facts, proofs, and -probabilities, had never occurred to him at all. The case had been -presented to him by persons whom he believed to be excellent and of -sound evangelical views, and he had never dreamed of questioning what -they said, revising the grounds of their suspicions, or asking what -there might be to urge on the other side. When, therefore, the -defendant requested, as it were, to hear the indictment against him, -his thoughts and ideas had to be called in from the wide and very -different field over which they were scattered, and brought to bear on -a different and entirely new aspect of the case. While he had been -deeply moved and interested in the case, viewed as one of established -ill-doing, and had thought out very fully the relations of the church -to the sinner and the sin, he found that his mind had entirely left -out of consideration the grounds on which the accusation had been -based, and that if it came to discussing the question of guilty or not -guilty, he knew nothing about it and had nothing to say. It is not to -be supposed, however, that on that account he believed any the less -utterly in the guilt of the accused. He felt that he could not discuss -it, being unprepared; but his mind, though well-meaning and incapable -of intentional disingenuousness, was of the tenacious rather than that -facile and self-styled candid order which, because it is incapable of -taking strong hold, and is easily moved by every fresh suggestion, -claims to be dispassionate and judicial. This man had been represented -to him by what he considered good authority, as a sinner, and a sinner -he would continue to regard him till irrefragable proof or higher -authority declared the reverse. Mr. Geddie, therefore, kept silence -under the new aspect of the case. He was clearly entitled to do so, -seeing that in a question of circumstance, a parishioner with local -knowledge must be able to speak with more understanding than a -stranger, even though an ordained minister. On Ebenezer it naturally -devolved to speak. He straightened himself in his seat, opened his -mouth even and drew in the needful breath; but while he considered how -the 'winged words' ought to arrange themselves, the vital wind escaped -unmodulated from the doubting chest. A henpecked person, his verbal -ventures had so often come to grief, that he had learned so to think -and think, before he hazarded an utterance, that the opportunity, the -breath, and even the idea were generally gone before he had strung -himself to the utterance. The duty, therefore, fell to Peter Malloch, -on whom no suspicion of henpecking could rest, as witness the mild -apologetic sister who sometimes waited in the shop, and the meek old -mother who was always stitching shirts for him, and spoke of him as -the Convener;--and then there was no wife. - -Peter cleared his voice and leant forward. Nothing could have pleased -him more than thus to hold forth before a minister and the Laird; a -success might lead to his being admitted to the eldership, and would -certainly add to his weight in the church, so he resolved to do -himself justice. - - - - - CHAPTER XXVIII. - - _MORE FAITHFULNESS BUT LESS LOVE_. - - -'We have been compelled, sir,' said Peter Malloch, and he fixed his -eyes sternly on the tie of Roderick's cravat (he would have liked to -frown into the face of the culprit, and to wither him up with the -sternness of his regard, but the amused astonishment in his eyes was -discomposing). 'Me, that's to say an' Mester Prittie there, or may be -I suld say the Deacons' Court an' the Eldership, though they arena a' -Israel that are _of_ Israel. An' there was a Tummas even amang the -Apostles,' (and here he glanced reproachfully at the Laird). 'Aweel, -sir, to come to the tail o' 't at ance, we hae just been haudin' a bit -meetin' wi' the Presbytery, as ane micht say, or wi' twa o' the -ministers ony gate, to consider yer terrible on-gaein's, Mester Brown! -An' I'm just fairly dumfoundered to see the brazen effrontery o' ye, -man! To be sittin' there an' glowerin' frae ye, as though ye had dune -nae wrang, when the hale glen's ringin' wi' the din o' yer iniquities, -an' the enemies o' the truth's lachin' i' their sleeve, an' cryin' -aha! as they pass on the ither side. An' we hae been app'inted, hiz -four that is, though I'm feared we hae gotten an enemy amang us 'at's -no takin' kindly t'ey wark' (another glance at the Laird), 'a Gallio -'at cares for non _of_ thase things, to ca' on ye an' to dale -faithfully wi' ye anent yer transgressions. We're wullin' to dale wi' -ye in luve, my brither, my little brither, I micht say; for I can mind -ye a bit hafflin callant no lang syne; an' we'll allow 'at youth's ill -to haud e'y strecht gate, an' 'at flesh is waik; we'll allow a' that, -an' dale wi' ye in a' kindness for yer saul's sake, but ye maun e'en -mak a clean breast o' 't, an' speak out afore waur comes o' 't. It's -a' kenned! Sae just up an' own til't, for we're busy folk, me and -Ebenezer here, an' we hae nae mair time to waur on parryin' an' -senseless havers. Ye beut to repent o' yer misdeeds, seeing they're a' -fand out, and the very first step is to confess them. Sae out wi' 't -a' like a gude laud, for ye can be nae mair a minister, an' the less -fash an' din ye mak ower't noo, the less ill ye'll do to the kirk ye -hae disgraced.' - -'What do you mean? demanded Roderick, beginning to flush indignantly. -'State what it is you accuse me of! You appear to have found me guilty -and condemned me already, without troubling yourselves to try me; but -if you wish me to confess anything, you must at least state your -accusation.' - -'An' winna ye take my word for it, 'at a' is kenned 'at ye hae dune? -An' wull ye gar folk gang ower yer shame word for word, afore the very -face o' yer auld father there? Him 'at was sae gude a man, for a' he -was a Moderate, lookin' doon on ye frae the wa'! I'm misdoubtin' but -he couldna lie still e'y moulds this day, gin he kenned o' yer -on-gaein's!' - -'Mr. Sangster!' exclaimed Roderick, 'this is growing intolerable! I -must request you to state the purpose of these persons' visit. What do -they accuse me of? And on what grounds? They seem unable themselves to -say intelligibly what is their errand.' - -'I certainly will not soil my lips,' said the Laird, 'with anything so -outrageous as well as absurd; and I am not surprised that even in the -midst of this ridiculous scene, they should have sufficient sense -left, and good feeling, to make it difficult for them to clothe their -preposterous accusation in words. Forgive them, and overlook the whole -escapade. It is the wisest and kindest thing to do.' - -'Mr. Sangster!' remonstrated Mr. Geddie, 'I do think, and you must -permit me to say, that your language is not judicious. Even although -in your overflowing charity, which I admit is beautiful and refreshing -to see, and will no doubt be fruitful of blessing to your own soul, -you are still (though I confess it seems unaccountable to me) -persuaded of the innocence of (alas, that I should have to use the -words!) our erring brother, even you must admit that there prevails in -this parish a _fama clamosa_ of the most crying and distressing kind, -affecting the moral character of the misguided young man whom the -Presbytery has set over it for the present to minister to it in -spiritual things. His teaching may be within the letter of the -Standards. I am thankful to say I have heard nothing of false doctrine -and soul-destroying error; but, alas! his example is not what it ought -to be! His teaching may be orthodox, his head knowledge of the -mysteries not to be impugned; but if the heart is wrong, if his walk -and conversation are not convenient, if his conformity to common -morality is not what it should be, we must rebuke and chasten him till -he repents of his evil life,--we must cut off the withered branch, and -cast it out of the vineyard. Oh! my brother!' he cried, 'repent and -confess! Put an end to this clamour! Enable us to bring the matter -before the Presbytery in such form that it may be able to deal with it -promptly if sharply, and without delay. Why should this clamour of -indignation go forth over all Scotland to put us to shame?' - -'Say what it is you accuse me of, Mr. Geddie. I certainly shall -confess if I am guilty.' - -'Alas! my brother! Will you still hide your head in a bush like the -ostrich, and believe yourself concealed? Think you that the pursuer -will overpass thus easily? I tell you nay! But if you will force us to -discuss in detail your lamentable backslidings, tell us how the infant -which you lately presented for baptism, and which, as I understand, -you continue to nourish under this roof--tell us how it came into your -hands.' - -'The child was saved almost miraculously from a shipwreck, I believe. -At least I saw the ship perish, and afterwards picked up the child on -the sea-shore near the place, where it appeared to be the only living -thing that had come to land. Being impatient to get home, and yet -bound to render succour to the little one, I picked it up and brought -it home with me, rather than carry it the four miles back to -Inverlyon, where the bodies of the drowned were conveyed later in the -morning, when the fishermen and coastguard had made their rounds. From -the clothing of the child, as well as from reading in the newspapers -that the ship was an East Indiaman, I believe that it is the child of -some Indian officer who has perished in the wreck, and I have -advertised in an Edinburgh newspaper regarding the child, but have -received no communication or enquiry from any one whatever; but I -cannot imagine how any _fama_ can have arisen in the parish over such -a matter, which can only be looked on, I should imagine, as an -ordinary exercise of Christian charity.' - -'Hech!' sighed Ebenezer, 'but he sticks til't weel! But, I'm sayin', -sir, Wasna some o' yer ain folk i' the Indies? An' wasna there siller -an' gear cam to ye frae there? I'm thinkin' I mind hearin' tell o' -kists o' plenissin' an' bonny things 'at was brocht t'ey auld manse -frae there awa.' - -'Certainly. I had an uncle who died in India and left his property to -my mother.' - -'Aweel, then, the claes 'at ye say cam wi' the bairnie wad pruive -naething, sin ye had plenty sic like e'y house. Ye micht just hae -dressed up the puir thing in ony auld duds ye fand i' thae kists. But -what o' the bairnie's mither, sir? Tell's about Tibbie Tirpie!' - -'Tibbie Tirpie? What connection is there between her and the baby?' - -'Mither an' bairn, I'm thinkin'; or sae the folk say.' - -'They must be mad! or most abominable slanderers to trifle so with the -good name of a decent young woman.' - -'An' ye ken naething about it, minister?' demanded Peter; 'an' wull ye -really be for haudin' to that when I have seen ye slidin' hame frae -there mysel' after dark? Ye _ken_ ye gaed there ae forenicht, it was -Sawbith by the same token, an' ye gied them siller, ye ken that! to -gar them keep a calm sough. I hae had that siller through my ain -fingers, sae ye needna deny't!' - -'Deny what? Deny that I gave charity to widow Tirpie? Why should I? -She is poor and deserving, I believe, and I gave to her as I hope I -should give to any other in like case, so long as I had it to give, -and the recipient appeared to need it.' - -'An' what was't ye gae her, sir? Was na't a note? It's braw crackin' -about _charity!_ an' a bawbee til a puir body, or aiblins a penny gin -ye haena the change is a godly ac'; but folk dinna part wi' their pund -notes that lichtly!' - -'I regret to observe, Peter, that my ministrations have made so little -impression on your memory. Let us hope my successor may be more blest. -Have you forgotten the words of David? "Shall I offer to the Lord of -that which cost me nothing?" Or of another, "Sell that which thou hast -and give to the poor?" The gift of the bawbee would show little -self-sacrifice in either you or me!' - -'Speak for yersel', sir! I hae muckle fash gatherin' the bawbees 'at -ye lichtly sae; an' I care na to waur mony o' them on a curran -feckless gowks, 'at suld be garred get for themsel's; but I'm thinkin' -it's the ither gate wi' you an' yer like--easy come easy gang. Arena -we a' payin' intil the Sustentation Fund? An' ye hae naething to do -but tak yer share, an' read yer books an' crack til's. My certie, but -it's a braw tred the preachin'! But I'm just winderin' hoo ye can -gar't gree wi' yer principles, 'at whan ye gie sae muckle, ye dinna -support mair the tred o' them 'at's contreebutin' to support yersel'! -We're no a' beggars i' Glen Effick, but gin a' body did as ye do, -there's Mester Prittie an' mysel micht tak t'ey beggin' afore lang for -a' the tred we'd do.' - -'As to that, Peter, we live in a free country. You take your Gospel in -any church you have a mind to, and no one has a right to gainsay your -choice; and so, also, my sister buys her groceries where she thinks -proper. As it happens, she continues, I believe, to buy them mostly in -Inverlyon, where her mother bought them before her. And as to the -people in the Glen having a claim to our custom, because they -contribute to the Sustentation Fund, and I am paid out of it, I can -only say that I distribute among them all I receive from that source, -and more, though I make no merit of it. I have lived on my own means -ever since I have been among you. My residence, however, is drawing to -an end. My physician warns me, it will be at the risk of my life if I -remain here during the winter. I have been unwilling to follow his -advice, believing it my duty to remain and labour while strength -lasted; but after this conversation and the state of feeling in the -parish which it betrays, I see clearly that all hope of usefulness for -me here is at an end, and so soon as I am sufficiently recovered, I -shall go. The discovery that such suspicions are entertained against -me, coming too so suddenly and unexpectedly, is deeply painful; but if -I am to suffer, it is a consolation to know that it is for my good -deeds, and not for evil. Saint Peter's words, which Mr. Geddie there -can point out to you, are my assured consolation.' - -'Ye maunna be thinkin', sir,' urged Ebenezer, somewhat overawed by the -bold front and indignant tone assumed by Roderick, whom he had -expected to see humbled in the dust, in tearful penitence, and for -whose benefit he had actually prepared a little speech full of -superior pity, to be delivered before taking leave, 'ye maunna be -thinkin' 'at there's nae evidence against ye but the pund note 'at -Peter there has traced. The first o't cam frae Inchbracken, I'm -thinkin', frae the very castle o' the persecutors; for the puir lass -gaes working up there whiles, I'm thinkin'. An', oh sir! but it was an -ill-faured trick o' ye, 'at ye wad expose our shame an' our nakedness -up yonder!--tellin't in Gath, as a body micht say, publishin' 't in -Askelon! An' ye beut to confess afore ye gang, sir, an' mak reparation -to the puir lass, an' syne ye an' her micht begin ower again, whaur ye -wisna kenned, an' ye micht do weel yet, afore ye dee!' - -'I must protest,' said Mr. Geddie, 'against removal out of the parish -at present! though it is only right that your ministrations should -cease. Brother Dowlas will have seen the Moderator of the Presbytery -ere now, and I doubt not a _pro re nata_ meeting is already called to -investigate this terrible _fama_. The case will be taken up forthwith, -and it would be a fleeing from discipline, which you are aware, my -poor brother, is a most serious ecclesiastical offence, were you to -remove yourself beyond the bounds. The law of the Church requires that -you should be tried and put to open shame, that your soul may be -saved. Accept the chastening in a fitting spirit. And oh! my brother! -confess! confess! if peradventure the publicity and the discredit -which it will bring upon the Church be averted!' - -Roderick rose to his feet. 'Enough! Mr. Geddie,' he said. 'I can -permit no more of this! I have told you how the innocent cause of this -misunderstanding came into my hands, and I cannot consent to hear my -statements treated as falsehood in my own study. I would say more, but -I know well that when you come at last to perceive the truth of the -case, there is no man living who will be more ashamed of his -acceptance of a preposterous calumny.' - -Mr. Geddie would have made still another heart-moving appeal to the -sinner to confess, but the Laird had risen, so too had Peter and -Ebenezer, and he found himself borne along to the door. With a last -great cry he raised his hands aloft, and as he crossed the threshold -he exclaimed--'Ephraim is joined to his idols! Let him alone!' - - - - - CHAPTER XXIX. - - _CONSULTATION_. - - -The Laird returned into the room with Roderick, and it was well that -he did so. But for his sturdy arm the young man would have fallen; -and, as it was, he dropped breathless and trembling into the nearest -chair. Weakened by his illness, the agitation had nearly overcome him, -and, but for the salutary presence of the Laird, might have found some -hysterical mode of relief. As it was, the pain in his side had -returned with renewed violence, he gasped for breath, and, with the -Laird's assistance, had to throw himself on his bed. - -He, who believed he had been striving after so lofty an ideal, who had -been leading, and as he fondly hoped with some success, the majority -of his flock towards the same high standard, to be thus cast down! -What must his walk and conversation really have been, notwithstanding -his approving conscience, that he should so lightly have been -suspected of such abominable hypocrisy and vulgar debauchery? He -groaned as he thought of it; his temples burned, and, despite the -presence of a stranger, the tears at last oozed abundantly through the -fingers which he had pressed against his eyes. - -The Laird flourished his large silk handkerchief, bepatterned over in -yellow and crimson like a small carpet. He coughed, he blew his nose -like a trumpet, and then he crumpled up the handkerchief and mopped -his eyelids in a very suspicious way. 'Hoots! Mr. Roderick!' he said, -while he laid his enormous paw as tenderly on the young man's forehead -as Mary might have done. 'Never mind, man! A set of born idiots! But -you answered them well, lad, and nobody with any sense that knows you -will care a snap o' the thumb for all their havers. Keep up your -heart, man! There's nobody whose good opinion is worth the having will -think a bit the worse of you. Just leave them alone, and if their -whole case does na fall to pieces like a girdless tub, my name's no -James Sangster! A set o' senseless pridefu' bodies! that dinna ken -which end o' them's uppermost for pure conceit!' - -Mary came in presently, and behind her was Captain Kenneth. He had -ridden over to enquire for his old friend Roderick (that was how he -worded it), and arrived just after the 'deputation' had been admitted -to the study. Mary received him, and led him for the present 'ben the -house,' where Eppie, and the baby, and herself were holding a little -conclave of their own. The conference in the adjoining room naturally -furnished a subject of conversation. Mary was indignant and bitter, -but not very precise; and Kenneth imagined that Roderick had become -unhinged in his theology, and was being set up as a mark to sling at -by all the orthodox in the parish, and expressed himself more freely -than reverently on polemical hair-splitting, even girding somewhat at -the Headship, the pet doctrine of the Free Church, but here Eppie's -patience broke down. - -'It's naething o' the kind, sir!' she cried; 'Mister Brown's as sound -as a bell on a' p'ints o' doctrine, an' nane has ever ventured to say -the contrar. It's a daftlike story o' ill livin' 'at they're wantin' -to pruive on him, an' they canna do 't, an' sae they hae come here til -himsel', to gar him confess an' save mair fash. I hae heard my granny -tellin' the gate they gaed to wark wi' the wutches lang syne, hoo they -garred them confess whether they wad or no, an' I'm thinkin' gin they -daured, they'd be for tryin' sic like on him. Drobbin' him wi' prins, -an' what no. But it's a terrible daftlike haver, an I'm thinkin', sir, -ye'll hae heard tell o't afore noo.' - -Captain Drysdale had not heard of it, but Eppie very speedily made him -acquainted with the whole story, while Mary and the baby were out -looking at his horse tethered to a post hard by. - -Kenneth's entrance brought composure alike to Roderick and the Laird, -both from necessitating more self-control, and also from the -satisfaction of seeing that not quite all the world had turned their -backs on him. Roderick could not speak above a whisper, but the Laird -gave a very full account of the late visitation. - -'There is one point, Captain Drysdale,' he added after a lengthy -narrative, 'on which you may be able to throw light. One of the points -they made against him was that this story of his exploits had -originally come from Inchbracken.' - -'I cannot imagine how that could be. Ah!' he added after a pause, 'it -must be one of my uncle's heavy jokes! I do remember, now I think of -it, his telling us how he had met Roderick carrying home a baby, and -the clumsy joke he made over it. You know my uncle is a very good -fellow, but he can scarcely be called a wit, though he would vastly -like to be thought one, and when by any chance he has struck out some -little smartness he _will_ repeat it till every one for ten miles -round has heard it. I remember it perfectly now, and Tibbie Tirpie's -name got into the conversation about that same time somehow, and so -the servants combined the two. Oh, Rod! He will be so awfully sorry. -But this poor little baby who has been the innocent cause of all the -annoyance. Such a pretty little thing it is too! How did you come by -it?' - -Roderick was lying on the bed, calmer now, and soothed by the friendly -sympathy of his two friends, but his voice was weak and the pain in -his side made speaking irksome. He looked to Mary, and she repeated to -Kenneth the story of the shipwreck and the finding of the baby. - -'And what was the name of the ship?' asked Kenneth; 'was that ever -discovered? To know it would be the first step towards finding out who -the child belongs to, and after all the annoyance it has brought, you -would no doubt be glad to restore it to its lawful guardians.' - -'Indeed, then, we shall be very sorry to part with it. It is the -dearest little thing in the world. I should cry my eyes out if it were -taken from us, I do believe. The sweet little pet! And it is so -wonderfully pretty. No doubt of its gentle birth, poor little waif! To -think it has not a relation in the world!' - -'And the name of the ship was?' - -'We saw the ship's name in the _Witness_ the following week. 'The Maid -of Cashmere,' was it not, Roddie?' - -Roderick nodded. - -'That,' said Kenneth, 'was the name of the ship in which my poor -friend Jack Steele lost his wife. He is Major in the Dourgapore Light -Cavalry, and they are not two years married yet. They were both to -have come home in her, but a week before sailing his leave was -cancelled, owing to a threatened rising in the Mahratta country. His -wife was ordered home by the doctors, who said her only chance of life -was the sea voyage, so she sailed alone with a child only a week or -two old, I believe, and the nurse. Poor things! both were lost. After -making the voyage round the Cape in safety, to be lost upon the Scotch -coast, within a few hours of home! Was it not sad? The Mahratta alarm -died out as fast as it arose; and six weeks after Mrs. Steele had -sailed, Jack was able to set out himself. He knew nothing of the -disaster till he reached his father's house in Edinburgh, and you may -suppose what a shock it was to him. He arrived at home just three -weeks after his wife's funeral. His, you see, had been a quick -passage, while the ship his wife sailed in was considerably overdue -before the wreck occurred. Poor fellow! when he asked for his wife and -child, and why they had not come to meet him, you may suppose how -terrible it was; they had nothing to show him but his wife's grave, -and the shock nearly killed him. He was in bed for three weeks after -it, and is only able to creep about now. The old judge took to his bed -after his daughter-in-law's funeral, so you may suppose the dismal -house it was. Jack is an only child, and the old man had set his heart -on having a grandchild, and he was cut up in a way you would not think -possible, if you had ever seen the hard grim way he has of dealing out -justice to offenders. It appears that the child was not born till a -fortnight before Mrs. Steele sailed, and that the letter announcing -that Jack and his wife were going home was posted before its birth; -and so the old people did not know they had a grandchild till Jack's -letters, written after his wife had sailed, reached them. They did not -know of its existence, in fact, till after they were assured of its -death, but the poor old lady cries and laments, I am told, over -this--I must call it an imaginary bereavement (for she had never seen -or even heard of the little thing till after its death) as bitterly as -if it were a child of her own she had lost. The body of this child, -too, has never been found; and they say it has been a great -aggravation of poor Jack's grief, to think what may have become of it. -How old would you suppose your baby to be, Mary? Would it not be -strange if it turned out to be Jack's little daughter?' - -'We saw in the _Witness_ that Lord Briarhill and Mrs. Steele had gone -to Inverlyon and claimed their daughter-in-law and took the body back -with them to Edinburgh; and we advertised in the Witness that we had -picked up an infant apparently washed ashore from the wreck, but no -one took any notice, and we have not had a single enquiry.' - -'It might still be quite possible, nevertheless, that your little -foundling is the Steeles' lost baby. The old judge was bearing the -loss of his daughter-in-law, I understand, with very proper -resignation. He had never seen her, so that there was no room for -personal grief or deep feeling, beyond what the melancholy manner of -her death must necessarily call forth, and sympathy for his son. But -the next mail brought letters which mentioned the birth of the child, -and its having accompanied its mother on the homeward voyage, and -then they say the poor old man was completely overcome--took to his -bed--and the old lady sat beside him and cried by the hour. As for -Jack, he was like one out of his mind when they told him, and he has -been very ill since. His oldest friends dare scarcely intrude on him -yet; he is so badly cut up. By and bye he will want a change, and I -have asked him to come to Inchbracken for a few weeks.' - -'And do you think then that he ought to be told about our little waif! -I quite dread to tell any one about it now lest he should claim it, -and I cannot bear to think of losing our pretty plaything.' - -'Surely he ought to be told, if there is the smallest possibility of -its being his own child; and if you like, Roderick, I will relieve you -of that duty. In your present health you will probably not be sorry to -avoid unnecessary letter-writing.' - -Roderick nodded. - -'I fear, Captain Drysdale,' interrupted the Laird, 'that is to say if -a stranger can judge correctly in the matter, you will find it rather -a difficult piece of news to break to this Major Steele. Do you think -the probability of the child being his is sufficiently strong to -justify you in subjecting him to the dreadful disappointment that -would follow, if it proves not to be his after all? It appears to me -scarcely warrantable to raise hopes which, if unfounded, will cause a -disappointment more cruel than was the original loss. If I might -suggest, I would urge very great caution.' - -'I see what you mean, Mr. Sangster, but how are we to avoid it? Nobody -in this country has ever seen the child or could identify it but -himself, and surely it is due both to him and the child that he should -be informed of its history, if there be even the slightest possibility -of his being its father.' - -'Undoubtedly, but did you not say just now that you expected him to -visit you at Inchbracken very shortly? Might it not be well to wait -till then before saying anything to him whatever? It could then be -mentioned to him carefully and gradually. Any clothing of the child -that he might perhaps recognize, or even the child itself might be -shown him, and then its story could be told. That would spare him the -misery of suspense, and the possibility of disappointment; whereas if -you write, the man will order post horses at once, and set out to -investigate your story. Think of his impatience and suspense as he -sits in the post chaise, thinking and thinking about it till he grows -giddy. It will be twenty-four or perhaps thirty-six hours from the -time he gets your letter till he can reach Glen Effick. He may fret -himself into a fever in that time. You say he has been ill already, -and he will be sure of a relapse if the child turns out not to be -his.' - -'I believe you are right, Mr. Sangster. I will merely write and urge -him to come as early as possible. The season for shooting and visitors -is about over, and he may be as quiet as he likes.' - -'And are you really going to leave us, Mr. Roderick? asked the Laird. -'I remarked your saying so to Mr. Geddie, and was really tickled at -his unwillingness to let you go away, even while he would not let you -stay in the Church. That man would have made a fine grand inquisitor -if he had been born in a Catholic country.' - -Roderick smiled, and answered in a low voice--'He is a good man, and -very zealous. But it is quite true. If he had lived two centuries ago -he would have wanted to burn every one who saw things differently from -himself, and he would have thought he did God service in burning them. -He thinks if he is right every body who differs from him must be -wrong. He does not comprehend toleration, and he has no common sense. -As my father would have said--"he wants a wife!" if only to teach him -that there is a world of daily providence and common things, as well -as the world of doctrines and theologies he lives in. But he is a -worthy creature!' 'Yes!' he continued, still almost in a whisper. 'We -shall go south--Ventnor or Torquay--for the winter. I shall write to -enquire at once; but I am not fleeing from discipline, Mr. Sangster! I -shall appoint an agent to protect my interests before the Presbytery.' - -'Then,' said Mary, 'might we not stop over in Edinburgh, and show -Major Steele the baby?' - -'I did not propose to take it with us. Supposing Major Steele is -unable to recognise it, it would have to come back here and raise more -talk; and I fear we should not know what to do with it during our -travels if we carried it south, so I think we shall have to leave it -here with Eppie for the winter.' - -The tears stood in Mary's eyes. 'Oh, Roderick,' she said, 'I shall be -so sorry to part with it.' - -'Could you not remain too, Mary?' whispered Kenneth. - -Mary coloured and shook her head, but a smile peeped from her eyes in -a passing glance, which effectually dissipated the threatening shower. -'I shall look out poor baby's chain, and the things she was picked up -in, and give them to you to show Major Steele. So mind you come for -them before we go.' - - - - - CHAPTER XXX. - - _TIBBIE'S TROUBLES_. - - -Elspeth Macaulay sat in her doorway and basked in the autumn sun -repining, and browning herself like the hazel nuts in the adjoining -thicket, which, like herself, were hard of shell, though sweet and -sound of heart when you could reach it,--and wrapped in thin wrinkled -leathery husks, not far different from the withered parchment which -served her aged bones for a fleshly covering. She was very old, but -her eye had not grown dim, and her bodily force had not abated. She -lived all alone in her shieling perched high on a steep brae looking -down the glen, but she felt quite able to do for herself, and carried -her eggs and butter to market as blythely as the youngest. The hearth -within was clean swept, and the turf on it burned brightly; while the -oaten cakes toasting before it diffused a nutty fragrance through the -house. As Elspeth sat knitting her stocking and looking down the glen -extended beneath her, she spied a white mutch on the highroad wending -towards her. Presently it reached the 'slap' in the stone and divot -dyke, where the footpath leading to her own residence debouched on the -road. The wearer of the mutch passed through the slap and proceeded to -thread the upward path. - -'Preserve us a'!' she muttered to herself, 'wha's this? It's no mony -comes in as they gae by to see Elspeth noo a days! I'se fesh out the -kebbock, it looks hearty. An' there's few comes to pree't noo. Na! na! -They're a' yardet maist, my cronies, by noo. An' them 'at's t'ey fore -yet's ower dottle to travel that far! I'm no wantin' the young -gomerals either, 'at stuffs their head i' bannets, an' thinks to be -mista'en for their betters! But here's a decent auld wife 'at's no -abune wearin' a mutch like her mither 'at gaed afore her.' - -The huge cheese was produced from the awmry, the toasting cakes turned -before the fire, and Elspeth was back in her place before the guest -had mounted the brae. - -'An' is that yersel', Tibbie Tirpie?' she presently exclaimed as the -wearer of the mutch, slowly mounting, began to raise her head over the -edge where the hill slid down out of sight. 'Hoo's wi' ye, woman? I'm -blythe to get a sicht o' ye.' - -'An hoo's yoursel', Elspeth! Hech sirs! But that's a stey brae for -auld folk! It's braw when ye're up, but it's a sair job to clim't.' - -The two old women partook of the cheer provided; after that they took -snuff together, and then they settled themselves in the sunshine for -their 'crack.' Elspeth's walking powers were not what they had been, -and she had not been present at the ceremonies of the day before, so -there was much for Tibbie to tell. Both of them would have been -classed, I fear, as 'of the world,' by the more devout. Kirks and -preachings were not by any means to them the most important matters in -life, still they were the news of the day, and, as such, interesting. - -'An' what said our ain young minister himsel', Tibbie?' inquired -Elspeth at last, after all the fine things said by the others had been -duly discussed. - -'Hoot, woman! He wasna there ava. Did ye no ken he was lyin'? an' rael -ill. I winder Jean didna tell ye that! For it was Mistress Sangster, -the folk's tellin', 'at cam near giein' him his death. Ye see they -gaed stravaigin' ower the hills, an' what suld come ower my leddy but -she maun coup in a burn! Up comes the minister to pu' her out, and a -sair job he'd hae fand it at the best, for she's a muckle hefty wife; -but the daft auld rinketer, whan ance she'd gotten a grip o' him, she -gied a screech an' a fling, an' pu'ed him in ower aside her, an' baith -gat a sair drookin', an' a wamefu' o' cauld water. Aweel! Stephen -Boague's wife, she dried the claes o' my leddy, an' she's nae waur; -but the puir minister beut to gang hame as he was--a' drouket--an' -he's gotten a sair host 'at's like to be the death o' him.' - -'Puir chield! The cauld water he drank was ower strong for him. I -ne'er thocht muckle o' that for a drink mysel'. It wants whusky peuten -til't, to gar't lie licht on the staumick. But if a' folk says be -true, it's het water he's gotten amang noo! honest man. Think ye he'll -thole that better nor the cauld?' with a sidelong glance which was not -observed. - -'I ken there's daft-like clashes rinnin' round, but I ne'er mind them. -There's folk 'at maun aye be blatherin' some gate. But he's a gude -man, I'll say! an' a worthy son o' the gude auld minister 'at gaed -afore him.' - -'An' ye think it's lees the folk's tellin' about him?' with a -quizzical smile. Elspeth had heard all the rumours, and after a -lengthened experience of her fellow-creatures, she was disposed to -credit all she heard against any of them, without thinking much the -worse of them for merely being found out, which she supposed to be the -only difference between them and their accusers; but it was a tempting -amusement to prod Tibbie on the subject of these reports, and to hover -about the edge of what must not be said to a friend or a guest. - -'I'll believe naething on Mester Brown till there's pruif for't! He's -a gude lad, an' a free-handet as I hae cause to ken.' - -'Ay! What is't ye ken, Tibbie?' - -'Aweel! he has gien me siller like the fine gentleman he is! An' me no -seekin't frae him either.' - -'An' hoo was that, Tibbie?' - -'He heard tell I was a lanesome widdie an' no weel aff, an' he cam to -speer after me. An' he out wi' his siller an' gied it til me, an' me -no seekin't, mind! An' no the gate ye wad fling a bawbee til a beggar, -or a bane til a dug; but just like's he was a man, an' me a woman made -o' flesh an' bluid like himsel'.' - -'Ay? But wha's yon wi' Jean, coming danderin' alang at this time o' -day. I maun gie that lassie a bit o' my mind about a' this -galavantin'. We'll be haein' the folk's tongues waggin' after _her_ -next,' with a mischievous glance at Tibbie; but the latter's eyes were -fixed on Jean's companion. - -'She's a gude bairn, Jean,' Elspeth went on, 'an' rael mindfu' o' her -granny. There's ane o' my kye like to gang frae her milk, an' I can do -naething wi' her, but Jean's a grand milker, an' she comes ower ilka -day an' milks the puir beast hersel'. I'm thinkin', yon chield's -comin' up here wi' her, an' if it's no that auld sneckdrawer Joseph -Smiley! I'm thinkin' we'll be for haein' a waddin' here afore lang; -but gin I was Jean, it's no a shilpet auld tike like yon wad be the -lad, an' mair to wale amang. But it's Jean's waddin' ye see an' no -mine, sae she beut to wale her ain ground; an' gin she brews gude -yale, she'll drink the better. But sit ye still!' - -Tibbie was rising to go. 'It's time I was hame,' she said. 'But I'll -gie a look till yer coo afore I gang. Ye ken I'm skilly on kye! or sae -the Inchbracken folk thinks. Bide still an' hae yer crack wi' Jean. -I'se find my road t'ey byre mysel'!' - -Tibbie's wrath was aflame against Joseph. She dared not trust herself -in his presence, with Elspeth and Jean for audience or chorus in the -scene that might follow, so she stole off to the byre before the young -people could reach the brow of the hill. Their eyes having been -engrossed with each other, they had not observed her while they were -still at a distance, and Joseph was not aware how near she was, or his -heart would have failed him. - -Tibbie placed herself conveniently to overhear the conversation, and -as usual with eavesdroppers, heard little that could gratify her -feelings. - -'Behave yersel', Joseph Smiley,' were the first words that reached her -ear, spoken with energy, 'or I'se gar yer lugs dirl! Ye muckle calf! -I'se hae nane o' yer slaverin' an' kissin', sae stand aff! Wha gae ye -the last ane til, I winder?' - -'I gae the last til yer ain bonny sel' last nicht, Jean. Think ye I'd -let ony body--' - -'Ye leein' rascal! Tak ye that!' followed by a resounding crack, as -though a palm and a cheek had come in violent contact. - -'Od, woman! That's sair!' - -'I'se gie ye a harder skelp nor that next time, sae mind yer tongue!' - -There were sounds of scuffling after this, but eventually they were -calmed by Elspeth's. - -'Whisht, bairns! Behave yersels! Ye kenna wha micht be hearkenin'. An' -what's yer news, Joseph? Hae ye nae cracks to divert a lane auld body, -forby daffin' wi' Jean? Is there naething steerin' e'y glen ava?' - -'There's plenty steerin', granny! Muckle din, but aiblins little 'oo, -as the dei'l said whan he scrapit the soo.' - -'Mind what ye're sayin', Joseph Smiley! She's no' _your_ granny, she's -mines; an' what's mair, gin ye dinna talc yersel' up, she'll ne'er be -yours ava! Sae dinna let yer tongue wag ower soople!' - -'Be quiet, Jean, ye fechtin' hempie, an' let the man speak! I'm juist -wearyin' to hear the news. An' what's a' the din for, Joseph?' - -'It's just about the minister an' his bairn, an' his carryin's on -amang the lasses.' - -'Ay? An' is't a' true, think ye?' - -'Wha kens? The lad's but young yet, an' the lass is no that ill -faured. The Kirk Session's taen't up, an' the Presbytery, an' there'll -be sair wark afore a''s dune.' - -'An' what'll be dune wi' them, think ye, Joseph?' - -'Oo! The minister '11 be peuten oot, nae doubt o' that, gin a' 'at's -said be true. An' the puir quine, she beut to be sotten e'y cuttie -stule, an' be rebuket afore the hale congregation. Hech! but it's weel -for Angus Tirpie he's no t'ey fore this day to see his dochter come to -sic shame. An' I'm wae for the lass hersel'. There's naebody wud hae -thocht it o' her; but she's a randie auld tinkler yon mither o' her's, -an' it's sma' winder 'at them she had the guidin' o' suld come to -harm.' - -Tibbie clenched her teeth, and seized a heather besom leaning near -her. She could scarcely contain herself, and would gladly have broken -the slanderer's head; but the women, his companions, would be sure to -side with him either by words or blows, seeing it was but another -woman's character that was in question! And then the after-talk in the -glen! Naturally she heard less than other people, but still she had a -candid friend or two, as who has not? and the averted looks of the -neighbours when she appeared gave full confirmation of all the candid -friends had to say. She dared not furnish new food for talk. Turning -round, she hurried away, choosing a path which sheltered her from the -view of Elspeth and the rest, and vowing bitter vengeance on Joseph -Smiley's treacherous head. - -Home she hurried with panting speed. Her perturbed mind deprived of -other utterance, vented itself in tumultuous motion, and by the time -she reached her cottage she was comparatively calm. She unlocked her -door, entered, revived her fire, and sat down to meditate on revenge: -but not for long. As Mr. Geddie and his companions were coming out -from their interview with Roderick, Tibbie was passing homewards. -Ebenezer, discontented with the result of their mission, and -foreboding diminished honour at his own fireside from her who acted -Little Conscience there, and had kept him to his duty through years of -wedded life, with the whipcracks of her stinging tongue,--Ebenezer saw -her, and proposed that they should follow her home, and 'deal' with -her as they had meant to do when they visited her earlier in the day. -Mr. Geddie consented, 'and I take it as a token for good,' he added, -'that we have seen her returning home at the very time we had given up -hope of being able to find her.' - -It was not long, therefore, before Tibbie's meditations were -interrupted by the entrance of the inquisitors. They saluted her but -briefly, and seated themselves on such chairs and stools as appeared, -without waiting for much invitation, and disregarding Tibbie's enquiry -of 'What's yer wull?' Mr. Geddie opened his book, lifted up his voice -and held forth. It was a discourse on the vanity of concealment in the -matter of sin, and an exhortation to confession as some measure of -atonement, and the first step to repentance. Having concluded, he -fixed his eyes on her and sat waiting to see what effect his words -would have on her moral nature. Apparently they had none. - -'Do you know, my woman, what brings us here today?' - -'The very thing I hae been wantin' ye to tell me.' - -'Where is your daughter?' - -'What's yer wyll wi' my dochter?' - -'Behave yersel', Tibbie Tirpie!' said Peter. 'Ye're no blate to speak -that gate til a gentleman far less a minister.' - -'I see little signs o' the _gentleman!_ Stappin' richt in ower o' my -house, an' never wi' yer leave, gude wife,' an' just settin' himsel' -down, an' syne t'ey preaching'! Wad ye daar noo, my birkie, to stap -that gate intil my Leddy Drysdale's parlour? I'm no thinkin' 't! Do ye -think a puir body maun aye be like a cadger's tike, 'at ilka gowk can -gie the ither kick til? An' then ne'er venture to bite? Gin I had mair -siller, ye wad tak mair tent! An' as for my dochter, just mind what -ye're after! gin ye daar say an ill word o' her I'se hae ye up afore -the Shirra, an' I'se hae there twa freends o' yours for witnesses -against ye. I hae some notion o' the ill tales they hae been tellin' -through the glen, an' I'se gar them swear afore the Shirra against ye -for the very tales they hae telled ye themsel's, sae tak ye tent! Them -'at lie doon wi' dugs, rise up wi' fleas! An' it's little worth -company ye hae been keepin', for a' their holy sough an' their lang -faces. They'll rin round spyin' an' keekin' intil ilka kale-pat but -their ain. (It's no in Mig Prittie's kale-pat 'at Ebenezer there daar -stick his neb, I'm thinkin'). An' syne they rin round wi' a curran -clashes, swallin' ilka gowk's head wi' their clavers. But gin they -dinna gie ower prankin' wi' my gude name an', my dochter's, I'se gie -them something they're no lookin' for, an' they'll wuss they had -steiket their jaws afore they meddled wi' Tibbie Tirpie!' - -Wull ye no' whisht, an' hear til the man o' God? ye rantin' auld -tinkler!' cried Peter. 'Ye hae a tongue 'at wad clip clouts!' - -An' ye hae a conscience like a mill-door, for a' yer whingin',' -retorted Tibbie, grown louder at the interruption. It wad set yer man -o' God better nor bautherin' a puir auld wife, gin he wad dale wi' -_you_. Wi' yer saul, I mean, for he'll better leave the shop alane. -Echtpence the pund for saand frae the burn-side, is ower dear to pay, -an' I hae coosten the last sugar at echtpence I gat frae ye t'ey hens! -It's no fit meat for christian folk!' - -'Ye jad! But whaur gat _ye_ the siller to be buyin' sugar? That's -just what we're comin' til!' - -'I cam by't honest, an' that's mair nor ye can say for yer pose e'y -savin's bank.' - -'It was the waages o' sin, Tibbie, yon siller! an' that ye ken.' - -'I tak you twa men to witness, what Peter Malloch has said! an' I'se -hae the law o' him! An' there's plenty witness e'y glen forby, whan -the time comes!' - -'Alas! alas! poor woman!' cried Mr. Geddie, 'you are sinning with the -high hand and brazening out your iniquity. Confession would better -become you, and repentance, and public penitence before the church, -for the public scandal you have brought on it.' - -'Ay! an' the cuttie stule for them baith,' ejaculated Peter as he made -for the door, for Tibbie was reaching up for her porridge-stick on the -shelf, and an onslaught seemed imminent. The other two followed -without the ceremony of leave-taking, further 'dealing' with the -enraged old woman, being manifestly out of the question. Slowly and -disappointedly they wended back to the village, while Tibbie stood out -in the road before her cottage shaking her fist and scolding at the -top of her voice. Doubtless she had reason; but the wind caught up her -words as they flew, and they never reached the ears of her retreating -enemies. - - - - - CHAPTER XXXI. - - _A CATECHIST_. - - -Mr. Geddie parted from his companions in the village, and finding he -had missed the Laird, set forth on a solitary walk back to Auchlippie. -It had been but a sorry day's work, with much that was painful in its -course, and no good done to show for it. He sighed as he passed in the -waning light the remembered landmarks of the morning, and recalled the -very different state of feeling in which he had then remarked them. -The light had faded in himself as well as in the sky overhead. Then, -was he not going forth in his might? a Gideon in armour to vanquish -the armies of the aliens? or Ithuriel, perhaps, his bright pinions -flashing in the sun, the long sharp spear of truth in his hand, -gleaming like a star, and ready to pierce through sin and falsehood? -Now it was different. The spear was blunted or had lost its point, the -wings hung limp and useless from his shoulders, and the feathers were -all in disarray, like some poor game-bird worsted in the fight, or -caught in heavy rain; the gay plumage draggled pitifully and dim, the -neck and tail, that erst stood so erect, now drooping and forlorn in -wisps of humiliation. The day had faded and the sun had gone down. It -was a new chapter added to his ministerial experience. Alas, for the -persistency of the besotted human heart in sin, and its callous -insensibility to words in season, spoken in love and faithfulness. -Mankind must be wickeder even than he had thought, and he had been -taught to believe in their total depravity. It never occurred to him -that there might be some mistake. The accusers comprised nearly the -whole body of office-bearers in the church--the excellent of the -earth, men with the same 'views' and shibboleths as himself; and -more than that, most attentive hearers and great admirers of his -preaching--the strongest possible proof in favour of their credibility -and soundness of judgment. He felt fully justified in adopting their -suspicions and accepting them as certainties--facts either already -established or about to be proved, and then with the characteristic -tenacity of the clerical mind, he held them fast. It was true that -this accused brother had hitherto led an exemplary life, that, -refusing opportunities of greater ease and emolument, he had declined -to be a candidate for more than one city charge, and that his life in -the parish had hitherto been an almost apostolic example of all the -charities and virtues; still, to err was human; and had not the most -conspicuous saints been permitted at times, (doubtless for wise -purposes and the good of their souls, in saving them from spiritual -pride), to fall into grievous sin? 'Humanly speaking,' and 'to the eye -of sense,' the man's whole walk and conversation' stamped the charge -with improbability. But what was that to the theologian equipped at -all points to contend with error? The doctrine of total depravity -removed all difficulty on that point, and the more improbable from a -mere worldly point of view, the more likely it became when attributed -to a wile of the enemy. He felt that his erring brother must have been -over confident, hence his fall. Still it was a new view of total -depravity, and an appalling one, that it should have been able to -withstand his preaching. He went over in his mind all the telling -things he had said, and considered how they might have been -intensified, but he found that he could have added little to their -force. And yet all had been in vain. His words had fallen like drops -of rain on the flinty hardness of that obdurate heart, and failed of -any effect. It was a bitter experience, but he resolved to profit by -it, and as he went along he thought over the heads for a discourse to -backsliders, in which this sad incident should be introduced, and -might perhaps even turn to good in the end, if it warned some wayward -sheep to retrace his steps. - -Thus meditating, Mr. Geddie beguiled the time away. He had come within -sight of Auchlippie gate, whence Joseph Smiley was issuing at that -moment, and coming towards him. Joseph descried his reverence -simultaneously, and prepared for an interview by passing his sleeve -across his lips. 'I wuss he mayna be findin' out the dram on me,' he -muttered to himself; but added reassuringly--'Hoot, no! They're -glaiket bodies thae ministers! They wadna ken their ain parritch gin -ye didna haud the spune fornent their nebs.' - -'Well, my friend!' said Mr. Geddie, with outstretched hand and a -condescending smile. 'I am glad to have another opportunity of -speaking to you. That was a very sad meeting at which I saw you give -your evidence yesterday--a sad and a humbling investigation!' - -'Hech, sir, an' it was a' that. Terrible backslidings were na they, -sir? But ye see, sir, it's just the flesh 'at's sae weak. We canna a' -houpe to be strong in the word, an' able to resist, sir, as _ye_ can, -an' sae there's aye some o' 's gettin' a tum'le.' - -'I fear, my friend, I must not venture to rejoice in my strength,' -replied the minister, much gratified, and smiling with pensive -radiance, as one who, after long neglect, is appreciated at last. 'It -is humility alone that can hope to pass scatheless along the seductive -paths of life.' - -'Deed ay, sir. Let him 'at thinks he's stan'in' tak tent he dizna fa', -says Scripter. We're but puir craeters! That's me an' my likes, I -mean, sir. As for a godly minister an' a powerfu' preacher, wha's -praise is in a' the churches, I wadna venture to say the like o' him.' - -'I fear we are all alike, Joseph! (is not that your name?) said Mr. -Geddie, slowly shaking his head, and blushing with pleasure so far as -his drab and yellow complexion would allow. 'I fear we are all alike,' -he repeated, still toying with the sweet morsel before he swallowed -it. - -'Ou ay, sir! Dawvit was a man, an' sae was Sant Paul! A man of like -paussions, an' sae aiblins a body micht ventur to say o' yersel'; but -it's terrible odds atween the likes o' ye, an' hiz 'at's creepin' on -wur bellies, as I may say, just worms o' the dust!' - -'Alas! alas! Joseph, there are no exceptions! Just look at the unhappy -man who has created so sad a scandal in this very parish!' - -'Nae doubt, sir, an' I'm wae to think o't. But after a' he's but -young--an' he's no ordeened--an' ye ken, sir, his faither was a -moderate! That maks a terrible odds! What says Scripter? "The faithers -hae aeten soor grapes," (gye an' like the grosets, I'm thinkin', afore -they're just ripe), an the bairns' teeth is set on edge. (I see na sae -weel what that means, but I'm thinkin' it's just 'at it gars their -rotten teeth dirl). An' again the sins o' the faithers on the children -til the third an' fourth generation. Hech, sirse! It's weel for me my -granny wasna a moderate! an' as for my faither, I ne'er heard tell o' -him.' - -'Yes, Joseph! (I believe I am right in calling you Joseph?) But you -have a fine lively knowledge of Scripture, and I think--I hope--I may -almost say I am sure, from what I have seen, that the root of the -matter is in you. Now, my friend, would you not like to come forward -openly, to take a plainer, bolder, stronger, nobler stand for the -truth? Does not your heart burn within you? when you see this glen and -other glens too, my brother, there are so many other glens, given over -to sin and worldliness, or it may be to moderatism--as soul-destroying -an error as any of them. Does not your heart burn within you? And do -you not feel constrained to cry aloud--"Here am I, send me?" To put it -to you in plainer, if less moving words, how would you like to be a -catechist?' - -Joseph's heart did indeed burn at the suggestion, though not perhaps -exactly in the sense intended by Mr. Geddie. It had been promotion for -him when he was made beadle and appointed to carry the great Bible up -and down the pulpit stairs,--a ministrant, and in his own opinion an -essential one, in all the public functions of religion; and he loved -to skip about among the hushed and reverent worshippers, showing one -where he might sit, and admonishing another to behave. But what was -all that to being a catechist? which was 'the next door,' as he told -himself, 'to a minister a' thegither;' not merely to go up the pulpit -stairs, but to go into the pulpit and sit down, while future beadles -would meekly follow, and close the pulpit door behind his reverence. -It was too delightful! An utterly beatific vision! He had just parted -from Jean Macaulay, and his mind had been full of schemings how to -secure her for a wife. But would Jean make a help-meet for a -catechist? Even with Elspeth's croft and her savings, he feared Jean -would scarcely be equal to that higher sphere; and before even he had -replied to Mr. Geddie, he had almost made up his mind that she would -not suit. - -'Aweel, sir! there's nae misdoubtin' but it wad be a preevilege to be -layin' out the truith afore the neglecket puir. But whaur was't ye was -wantin't for?' - -'There is a neglected district along the coast, where the people are -too poor to support a minister; but yet they should not be left a prey -to Erastianism, and it has been proposed to send some pious man to -labour among them who would read to them and talk to them, enlighten -them on Free Church principles, and address them occasionally. How -would the work suit you? And would you like to give it a trial?' - -'Aweel sir! I wad like weel to be direckin' the puir bodies the gate -they suld gang. An' what's the waages, sir? Or I'm thinkin' I hae -heard tell it's saalary ye ca' a catechist's pay, being mair -honorable.' - -'About thirty pounds a-year we think we could raise. You would live -among them, of course, and you would find it a most interesting and -constant employment. I should think for an earnest and active man like -you it would be the very thing.' - -'But thirty pound the year's no twal shilling e'y week, an' the folk -ye say's puir, an' gin a man gaed out an' in amang them, he beut to -help them whiles wi' siller. I see na hoo yer catechist cud do't at -the price.' - -'Think on the privilege, Joseph! And if you do well no doubt we will -be able to find higher work for you.' - -'Ay! But a man canna just eat an' drink his preevileges, an' he canna -sell them for siller to buy shune! I'm but a bederal, sir, but week -out an' week in, it 's liker twunty shillin's, what I can mak atween -that an' my tred.' - -'Well! we must think it over, Joseph, and you can write to me what you -think you could undertake the work for, and we'll consider how much we -can give. Mr. Sangster! I am so sorry to have missed you, but I -understood you had gone home.' - -'I have been waiting for you at the inn for an hour past. Never mind! -get in now.' - -The Laird in his gig had driven up during the negotiation with the -proposed catechist. He now caught up Mr. Geddie, and left Joseph in -the middle of the road to pursue his reflections. - - - - - CHAPTER XXXII. - - _CHANGES_. - - -Three weeks passed after the sitting of the Congregational Council -which had agreed that there was a 'fama clamosa' in the parish. The -Presbytery had sat with closed doors to consider the case. It had -adjourned, and met again to further consider, decide, and order under -the circumstances. Enquiry into the facts, and such like trifles, -would come later, when the evidence for the prosecution was matured. -Clearly there could be no defence until there was an indictment, a -defence in its very nature being a reply; and until the thesis of -accusation could be formulated, there was nothing to reply to. -Wherefore Mr. Brown could not be heard either in person or through his -friends at this early stage of the proceedings. Still he was -suspected, though not formally accused; and, although he possessed the -common right of all men to be deemed innocent till found guilty, he -was by no means in the position of an innocent man. The immortal -interests of the Free Church adherents in the Parish of Kilrundle were -at stake, and could by no means be left for a single day exposed to -the influence of a perhaps improper person. He had been notified to -discontinue his duties till further notice, and another young man had -been sent to fill his place, as well as (but these were his private -instructions from the leaders and wire-pullers who guided the -Presbytery's movements) to act as amateur detective in ferreting out -evidence for the prosecution, which, singularly enough, was yet too -defective to warrant bringing the case into court. - -There is no power like a democracy for precipitate and arbitrary -action. The units composing it so fully realize their authority, and -so like to exercise it; while, being many, and co-ordinate, they have -little or no sense of individual responsibility. They propose, vote, -and order, each in obedience to his individual whim or impulse, and -imagine that they are doing great things; but it is the body -corporate, the official abstraction, which is left to bear the blame -when justice or policy miscarry. In this respect, if in no other, the -one-man power has the advantage, the king or bishop is personally -identified with each transaction of his reign, and when a failure -occurs he feels himself personally discredited; he has therefore the -strongest incentive to walk circumspectly, that he may not have -hereafter to retrace his steps, while with popular assemblies, a -reversal of policy or a change of front is immaterial, so long as the -majority has its way. - -Roderick, therefore, being suspected, was now placed under a vigorous -taboo--boycotted we would have called it thirty-five years later, but -boycotted under a wisely modified form. Ebenezer Prittie or Peter -Malloch would still have been happy to sell him all they had in their -shops,--at a proper advance on cost--seeing that the coin of an -excommunicate is no worse than other people's, and money, however come -by, is 'all right,' as Vespasian found out long ago. There was no -fear, therefore, of his being starved out so long as he continued able -to buy. But intercourse with his parishioners had come to an end. Some -few were veritably unwilling to have dealings with iniquity, but the -majority dared not offend public opinion by appearing to hold -communication with him; and these secretly knowing the shakiness of -their own principles were the loudest in denouncing any one who should -venture to approach the Browns, thereby contributing much of the -strength of that public opinion which tyrannized over themselves. The -only exceptions were Roderick's pensioners. These, defying the -censorious, presented themselves in shy and deprecatory fashion -(deprecatory alike to the offended righteous without, and to the -indignant and maligned within), each as his pay-day came round. The -money had become an established item in their income, which those who -disapproved would assuredly not make good; wherefore, they felt -constrained to revisit the flesh pots. After all, even if the worst -were true, what was it but a spoiling of the Egyptians? A perfectly -allowable, perhaps a praiseworthy act, which Moses himself had -suggested, and even recommended to the chosen people of old. They took -the money, therefore, in defiance of such as shook their heads, and, -finding it retained its old purchasing power, were none the worse. - -The days dragged wearily along for Roderick and his sister. October, -which began in summer sunshine, relieved but not chilled by bracing -airs, was waning in cloud and gloom; dull foggy days of rain, or windy -tempests ending in early frosts. The sick room was close and damp. The -ruddier the blaze upon the hearth, the stronger the flavour of mould -and damp drawn out from the oozy walls and cold clay floor. The -chamber would grow close but never warm, and the capacious chimney -seemed powerless for ventilation, and served only as an escape for the -heat. After undergoing the visitation of Mr. Geddie and his -companions, Roderick had had a return of his more serious symptoms. -Indignation and outraged feelings sent the blood boiling in stormy -tumult through his veins, and he was not weak enough to obtain the -relief of tears. Self-respect required him to preserve calmness before -the friends who were with him; and his irritation, deprived of vent in -speech or action, settled in the morbid part of his system, and -rekindled the expiring inflammation in his chest. He was therefore a -prisoner once more to his bed, when he would gladly have been removing -himself from the scene of his mortifications, and had no alleviation -save the visits of Kenneth and the Laird; but these were frequent. - -Whenever other matters brought the former to the village he made a -point of calling to enquire; and it was remarkable how frequently -business demanded his presence there at this time. During the first -week the gossips observed him ride three alternate days down their -street, and the traders began seriously to consider whether they could -not so improve their stocks as to tempt some share of the Inchbracken -petty custom from Inverlyon. After that, however, his visits became -daily, there was no longer even a pretence of other business, and -Ebenezer Prittie abandoned the hope of supplying the Drysdale property -with nails and ironmongery. Kenneth was sincerely interested in his -friend's health, and sat sympathizingly by his bedside, but the -patient was not able to talk much, and even if he had been, was -forbidden to try. He was often drowsy, too, and sometimes slept, owing -to the restless wakefulness of his nights. It fell, therefore, on Mary -to make the conversation, a duty which she fulfilled apparently to -their mutual satisfaction, seeing that the visits grew more frequent -and of longer and longer duration. What they found to talk about no -one can say, for their voices were pitched in the lowest tones--of -course that the patient might not be disturbed; and apparently he was -not, if we may judge from the ease with which he soon fell into an -established routine. He would welcome his visitor with a cordial -handshake, answer the regulation questions about his health, hear any -little item of news that might be stirring, and then calmly close his -eyes, and turn round for another nap. - -When two people find pleasure in each other's conversation, -surrounding circumstances are of little account. The most momentous -questions have ere now been asked and answered during the gyrations of -a waltz, or the intervals of a square dance. Pyramus and Thisbe were -happy in whispering to each other through the chink in a paling, and -my neighbour next door used to save shoeleather by chatting to a young -lady at the other end of the town down the pipe of a telephone. That -turned out badly, however, in the end, as one night his soft engaging -whisper was replied to in the gruff and stormy tones of papa! who bade -him have done with his nonsense, or he would put the d--d wire out of -the house! He had done something of the same kind to my poor friend -already. It was nothing new, therefore, if these two young people -forgot for the time the stuffy little room in which they sat, and the -gruesome army of medicine bottles, getting more and more numerous -every day. They were as utterly content as though they had been -sitting under one of the great shady trees of Eden, with only birds, -flowers, and tame lions to listen to their discourse. The flowers, at -least, they had in ever increasing profusion, as poor Colewort knew to -his cost, in the sad devastation that fell on his most sacred -preserves in the greenhouses of Inchbracken. Their sweetness brought -something like the freshness of spring, (or was it only of hope?) into -that close and frowsy place; even the fumes of damp and mouldiness -fled before the breath of these children of dew and sunshine. - -At length there came a day, after many others that had been made -bright with flowers, and fragrant with sweeter words, when Kenneth -brought nothing in his hand but a bunch of violets, which he told her -his mother had sent. A slip of paper was tied to them on which was -written, 'For dearest Mary.' 'And so you may know, Mary,' he said, -'that everything between us is known at home, and you will be made -welcome. My mother will come and see you, or if that cannot be managed -she will write to you, after you have left Glen Effick; and I think -you will overlook her not coming here. After the decided stand our -family has taken against this church secession, she would rather not -do that; and as you are going to be one of the family yourself, you -will not wish us to stultify ourselves. That is what the old gentleman -calls it at least, though I daresay it is nonsense. Still, he is an -old man, and he is going to be very fond of you, so we must humour -him.' There came a tear in Mary's eye, a smile to her lip, a blush, -and words presently. She said exactly what was prettiest and nicest, -or so thought Kenneth. Every nice girl knows what the words would be, -they were just what she would say herself on a like occasion. As for -the men, they will hear them, each for himself let us hope, when the -time comes; therefore let us not rub the bloom from the plum by unwise -anticipation. - -The visits of the Laird were somewhat less frequent; but he was -fortunate in always finding Roderick awake, and, after the first few -days following the relapse, eager to converse; and as the visits were -repeated two or three times a week, an intimacy sprung up between the -two men which had not existed before. The Laird was pleased to find -what he had not hitherto looked for, a sound and mature judgment and -abundant common sense where he had been wont to expect only pious good -intentions and a youthful enthusiasm, beautiful and interesting enough -but somewhat raw, and needing much of the pressure of time and -circumstance to squeeze out the green and vapid whey of youth and -inexperience. Roderick was equally surprised to find that the husk of -hard dry business shrewdness, which he had hitherto looked upon as the -man himself, was but the dried or hardened scars or cicatrices of rubs -and bruises long since endured by a true and gentle nature, now healed -and wholesome, and that beneath the somewhat repulsive exterior, there -were rich stores of experience, charity and christian wisdom. -Heretofore their intercourse had consisted in visits from Roderick to -Auchlippie on parochial business; and on these occasions Mrs. Sangster -in her character of Mother in Israel, high patroness and Lady -Bountiful to the congregation, was always present. It might be -Roderick who proposed the subject to be considered or it might be the -Laird, but at the first opening Mrs. Sangster would take up her -parable, and after that there was little opportunity for any one else -to slip in a word even edgewise. She loved the sound of her own sweet -voice better than any other music, and with a silent, perforce an -attentive audience, her periods would swell and round themselves with -evangelical commonplaces, and a general overflowing of conventional -piety. When his lady opened her mouth on any subject, it was the -Laird's practice to close his for good and all; that was his mode of -fulfilling the apostolic precept to honour the weaker vessel. Had he -spoken, he would have been compelled to distinguish and except, to rip -up sophisms and show that the conclusion arrived at was not deducible -from the premises stated, and endless altercation would have ensued. -Wherefore, like a sensible man, he held his peace, and left his fair -partner to discourse at her own sweet will. When, also, it became -necessary for him to express his own views, he would do it in the -dryest, clearest, and most concise form, leaving no room for question -or debate from his better and more loquacious half. It was therefore -as if for the first time that these two met and became acquainted in -that sickroom; and the discovery each made of the other was an -unexpected happiness to both. Timidly and doubtfully Roderick would -sometimes bring the conversation round to Sophia, but it was in a -diffident and uncertain way. He hungered to hear or talk of her, but -as regarded his hopes and aspirations he felt bound to keep silence. -His instinct of what was fitting withheld him from attempting to -entangle his friend in his more genial moments, in any kind of promise -or consent, so long as a breath, however groundless, hung over his -reputation. It was true that the Laird did not believe a syllable to -his disadvantage, but on that very account he felt so deeply indebted -to him, when all the world beside had turned its back, that he could -not take advantage of the old man's goodwill. - -Whether the Laird saw more than Roderick put in words, it would not be -easy to say; but it is certain that at that time an understanding -sprung up between himself and his daughter which had not existed -before. He had hitherto regarded her simply as a child, female child, -belonging to his wife, and rather a dull one as that. It now first -seemed to dawn on him that she was a woman, a distinct person, and his -own daughter, and that it was in her to become the dearest companion -of his life. What he may have known of her relations with her mother, -incident to Roderick's letter, cannot be known, for he never told; but -from the evening after the congregational council, when she plucked up -courage to enter into conversation with him, and glean such news about -the proceedings as she could ask or he communicate, they found they -had entered upon new relations with each other. It may have been the -Sangster element in her, of which her mother so loudly complained that -engaged his sympathy so directly, or it may have been the incense of -her feminine hero worship, seeing that he appeared to her so great, -and strong, and good, in opposing himself singly to the universal -prejudice, and manfully espousing the cause of worth and innocence -maligned, but certainly from that day forth, father and daughter -became fast friends and constant companions. Often she would accompany -him in his walks to the village, and though she would not defy her -mother by accompanying him to the Browns', still her father would -carry messages to and fro between her and Mary, which brought -assurance both to Roderick and herself that they were not parted. The -old lady was the only party dissatisfied with these new combinations. -She felt her authority slipping from her fingers. Her daughter had, -she could not tell how, developed an independent personality of her -own, and was evidently now held in allegiance to herself only by a -sense of duty. The daughter was also establishing a hold on her -father's regard, which her mother herself had long since allowed to -pass from her, as costing too much trouble to retain; and Mrs. -Sangster beheld already in prophetic vision, herself as a meek old -lady seated by her work-table near the fire, while Sophia, the -mistress of Auchlippie, ruled the roast! The meekness of her future -rôle had not as yet, however, come to Mrs. Sangster. She fumed and -fretted like a spirit in chains, and the mornings which mother and -daughter spent together were by no means smooth or enjoyable for poor -Sophia. Her mother's grievance being incapable of statement, the -ebullitions thence arising could neither be foreseen nor assigned to -any specific cause. The scandalous rumours relating to the Browns were -retailed and enlarged on in a way that, but a few short weeks before, -Mrs. Sangster would have been shocked to think she could indulge in -before her carefully nurtured child; and Sophia, as her only defence, -had to fall back on the paternal gift of silence. But that invariably -drove her mother vanquished from the field, seeing that it takes two -to fight, and with a parting shot at the dull _dour_ blood of the -Sangsters, she would seek relief in the privacy of her chamber from -that sovereign remedy, 'a good cry.' - -At the end of three weeks Roderick was found well enough to travel, -and it was time that they should start, if, in those ante-railway -days, they would avoid the delays, discomforts, and extra fatigue of -bad roads. They took the stage coach as far as Dundee, where they -would embark in the steamer for London. Thence there was railway -westward, and with more staging, they would reach their destination. - -It need scarcely be said that Eppie and the baby stood on the inn -steps to watch the travellers drive away, and wish them 'God-speed.' -Mary kissed them both, hoping a father might shortly be found for the -little one, but grudgingly, for she deeply loved it herself. Kenneth -was there, likewise, with regretful adieux and repetition of the -already-made promises to write soon and often. So too was the Laird, -and this time Sophy was on his arm, and Roderick thenceforth had at -least one smile and handshake to treasure in his memory, unspoken -answers to his letter of a month back, and tokens from which to bode -hopefully of the future. - -There were other onlookers, but they peered from windows, over averted -shoulders, or from behind corners. The parishioners had begun to find -out many differences between their new pastor and his predecessor. -There were no alms now, for the new man had no money to give; and -there was less sympathy, for he was a stranger in the parish, and -likewise new to ministerial work. Shame kept them from coming forward; -but when the guard blew his horn, the coachman tipped up his leaders -with the whip, and the lumbering vehicle rolled up the eastern brae, -every one felt that he had a friend the less left in Glen Effick. - - - - - CHAPTER XXXIII. - - _DISCOMFITED_. - - -Within the Post Office as well as in other places, there stood a group -watching Roderick's departure, and among them, as might be supposed, -was Joseph Smiley. It would have been a very unexpected event indeed -that could have transpired in the village without his being there to -see. - -'I wuss we may na hae dune the laad some wrang,' sighed Angus Kilgour. -'He gangs like's he thocht nae shame, an' gin there cam few to bid him -"Gude bi wi' ye," thae few war the first e'y land. See to the young -Captain, hoo he's crackin' til Eppie an' the bairn 'at a' body said -was merry-begotten. That looks like 's he didna think sae.' - -'Hoot awa!' said Ebenezer, who had become a man of consequence through -the prominent part he had taken in the minister hunt, and would -tolerate no gainsaying. 'Hae na we scripter for't, Angus, 'at evil men -an' seducers wax warse an' warse? An' think ye, 'at gin a chield was -sae far left til himsel as yon puir laad maun hae been, he wad turn -round that easy an' own til his fau't? Na, na! The De'il's a hard -master 'at's aye wantin' mair service. An' as for puir Mester Brown, -I'm sure I wuss him nae ill, but juist 'at he may be brocht til own -til his transgressions. He's gangin' the gate o' thae wanderin' staars -for whum is reserved the blackness o' darkness! I think naething o' -yer young Captain comin' to see him awa. He's been danderin' round him -ilka day sin' he fell out wi' his flock, or sin' they _fand_ him out I -suld say. He's juist a laad o' Belial 'at cares naething for the sauls -o' hiz puir folk, (dizna he get a' the nails an' the pleughs an' the -iron wark for the property doon by at Inverlyon?) an' he wants to pu' -down the wa's o' Zion. He's juist like Tobiah the Ammonite 'at fashed -Nehemiah langsyne, but it's no a tod like him rinnin' on the wa's o' -our Jerusalem, 'at's gaun to kick them ower. An' as for the Laird -comin' wi' his dochter, he's been sair left til himsel', but we a' ken -he's pridefu' an' winna be direcket by puirer folk, an' that's what's -made him sae camstairy. But I'm juist winnerin' 'at Mistress Sangster -(an' sic a graand christian as she is!) lets him gang sic daftlike -gates!' - -Joseph listened to the harangue with respectful attention, looking -approval but saying nothing. Instinctively he had the wisdom in -conduct by which men have become Roman Popes or American Presidents. -If he had few friends, he gave no offence, and made no enemies. The -friends are but broken reeds to lean upon in getting one in, but the -_unfriends_ are omnipotent in keeping him out. It was popedom in a -small way that Joseph contemplated, catechist being as great a rise in -life for the Glen Effick beadle as Pope for the Archbishops and -Princes of the Church. The emoluments, as stated by Mr. Geddie, were, -of course, altogether inadequate, but then Free Trade principles were -just about that time being established as the economic faith of the -nation, and he understood perfectly that even Mr. Geddie, a -merchantman in search of goodly pearls, felt disposed to dabble in the -law of supply and demand, and if he could pick up a catechist at half -price, would not 'feel justified' in paying him more. Economic piety -is apt to be economical as well, and alas, alas, for the Church and -the world! it is the spurious article for sale that is best able to -haggle with the greedy religiousness that would buy. Saintly holiness -is sent at half price to labour in the slums, while sensational -pretence gets the velvet-mounted pulpit, the snug parsonage, and the -comfortable living. - -Joseph was not much of a letter writer. He never had had opportunity -to practise the craft, or doubtless his pen would have grown as glib -as his tongue. If he wrote to Mr. Geddie himself, his letter might -stamp him illiterate, and consequently a half price article; and even -if not, being but an obscure person, he could not hope to influence -conveners, committees, contributors, and the rest of the sacred -machinery in Mr. Geddie's church, whence the money was to come. He -thought therefore to procure intercession. He would petition Mrs. -Sangster to write on his behalf, and by and by he would ask Ebenezer -to say a word in his favour, after he knew the lady's letter had been -sent. - -With this view he set out for Auchlippie, whither he had gone less -frequently of late, fearing to compromise himself with Jean Macaulay. - -As already said, Jean's expectations made her unquestionably 'a catch' -for the beadle, but Joseph found she might prove a millstone about the -neck of a catechist. For Joseph was far-seeing. Such imaginative -faculty as had been vouchsafed him was circumscribed within the hopes -or possible achievements of Joseph Smiley, but within these bounds at -times they soared! Once a catechist he might find favour in zealous -and wealthy eyes, and he might be enabled to attend the Divinity Hall, -whence he would issue a full-fledged minister. Favouring circumstances -might work out so much for a bachelor, but who would undertake a man -already weighted with a wife and family? Vulgar too! and unfit to -associate with the upper classes as minister's wife! If, however, he -should fail to secure any such enthusiastic person, and he knew they -were rare, Jean would not be so far amiss as spouse to a catechist for -life. The _placens uxor_ he could appreciate when more substantial -considerations did not stand in the way, and her tocher would be 'a -help,' and enable him, if still subordinate to the Established clergy -and those of the Free Church, to hold his own with 'Seceder bodies' -(there were no U.P.'s in those days), 'Baptists, Methodists, and sic -like.' At that time there was no word of voluntary principles in the -Free Church, and it required a good many years 'in opposition,' as -politicians would say, before it even was suggested to drop the -twenty-third chapter of the Confession of Faith, and along with it the -old feeling of superiority to the dissenting communions. - -When Joseph reached Auchlippie, he was considerably taken aback by -Jean's extreme coolness. He had been considering as he fared along, -the exact degree of friendliness it would be prudent to show to Jean. -He must be kind but not quite fond, friendly but not intimate, with -just a suggestion of the superiority which he hoped was hovering over -him and he trusted might alight. Distinctly then, he felt taken aback -by Jean's reception. - -'Ye want to see the mistress? Gang intil the laundry than, an' set ye -doon, an' whan I'm through here I'll gang ben an' speer gin ye can see -her.' - -'But I cud help ye to shell the peas, Jean.' - -'Wha's seekin' yer help? Tak yer guttery shune out ower the clean -kitchen, an' gang intil the laundry or I'se prin the dish-clout til -yer tail! Think ye I haena gowks eneugh e'y stable-yard to shell my -peas gin I wanted their help? Awa' wi' ye!' - -Nothing like a little cool repulsion to draw on the young men when -they begin to hang back. The cherries a little out of reach are always -redder than those which hang ready to the hand. Looking at the buxom -lass and the saucy twinkle in her merry black eye, Joseph's foreseeing -circumspection began insensibly to abate, or rather he forgot all -about it. - -'What ails ye, Jean, woman?' he poured out in his most insinuating -tones, and his queer little eyes looked plaintive or nearly so. 'An' -me juist hungerin' for a glint o' yer bonny eyen!' - -'Get out my gate, ye blatherin' skate!' with a jaunty toss of her -head. It is pleasant to be appreciated, is it not? No matter by whom. -But she had no thought of relenting yet awhile. 'It's like's ye cudna -bide awa frae me, ye leein' twa-faced body! It'll be four weeks come -Thursday sin' I hae seen a sicht o' ye, an' I hae dune brawly wantin' -ye. Gae back to them ye saw last an' bide there. It's no Jean Macaulay -'at's wantin' ye. An' gang out ower the clean kitchen! See til the -jaups o' glaar, about yer guttery trotters! Gang out ower, I'm sayin'! -or I'se lay the taings about yer cantle.' - -'Whisht, woman! an' I'se tell ye a' about it,' said Joseph, sideling -nearer. Then throwing the right arm round her waist, he drew up the -left to protect his face from nails or accidents, and attempted to -steal a salute. - -Jean screamed and sprang aside, catching hold of a broomstick, and her -face aflame with crimson wrath, ordered him out of the kitchen. At -that moment an inner door opened and Mrs. Sangster stood on the -threshold surveying the scene. - -'Jean Macaulay! what is the meaning of this? Do you take my kitchen -for a country tavern, to go touzelling with strange men in it in that -unseemly way? When I engaged you I said distinctly that no followers -were allowed.' - -'There's nae touzellin' here, mem; an' what's mair, I winna hae 't -said o' me by ony body, sae ye can suit yersel' wi' anither lass 'at -taks less tent o' her gude name nor I do! The man's nae follower o' -mine; it was yersel' he came speerin' for, sae I cudna tak on mysel' -to pet him out, an' syne the impident rascal he grippet me about the -waist, an' I skirled, an' ye see the lave o't.' - -'It's Joseph Smiley, the minister's man! I declare. What do you want? -You may well be ashamed, and hang your head! What will the session -say? You, that ought to be an example of sober and godly deportment, -to be raising a riot in a gentleman's kitchen!' - -Joseph was abashed. All his bright schemes seemed to dissipate -themselves before his eyes, like a morning mist, and he could only -wish himself away. He coughed behind his hand, and stood balancing -himself first on one foot, then on the other. - -'I'm sair dumfoondered, mem!' he said at last. 'An' I'm thinkin' I -juist canna be very weel. My head gaed clean soomin' ey noo, an' I -cudna keep my feet, an' sae I out wi' my arm to catch something, an' -it was her I grippet, puir lass. An' Jean, it's like she thocht it -wasna mo-odest, an' sae she gae the bit skirl. But there was nae wrang -intil't ava, mem, as ye may weel ken. Wad it be likely noo, mem, e'en -gin I was ane o' the licht mindet kind, as a' the folk in Kilrundle -Free Kirk kens weel I'm no', for me to be comin' intil the kitchen o' -the first leddy e'y laand, an' carryin' on wi' rigs, an' daffin', an' -touzellin's? Weel I wat, mem, ye'll own I hae mair sense nor that.' - -Joseph's demeanor was so deeply humble, and his way of putting the -case so respectfully argumentative that Mrs. Sangster was considerably -mollified, but consistency required some continuance of rigour. - -'I fear, Joseph Smiley, you must have been drinking this morning. That -would explain the giddiness you describe, as well as your trying to -steady yourself against Jean Macaulay, which was not like the conduct -of a sober man. And, after all, from what you say, Jean's conduct -seems to have been perfectly proper. So, Jean, I will not consider -that you have given me notice to suit myself with a new maid until you -say it again!' - -'There's naething but a wheen parritch gane down my craig this day, -mem, an' I'm wae 'at ye suld think sae ill o' me,' said Joseph, -feeling his way back into the usual sanctimonious groove. 'I'm no' -weel, mem, an' I'm juist fear'd I'm no' lang for this world, an' -that's what's brocht me here this day. I cam seekin' a word o' ye, -mem!' - -'Then follow me, Joseph.' - -Joseph followed, and laid before Mrs. Sangster the statement of his -hopes and desires. 'I'm no' lang for this warld, mem, an' gin I cud do -some gude first I wad be mair contented like, but they wad need to -double the steepend, mem. I cudna gang for less.' - -'If you are going to die so soon, Joseph, I should think the temporal -reward would be of little consequence to you.' - -'Ou ay, mem! But ye ken the labourer is worthy of his hire.' - -'I should doubt your ability for the work, Joseph; and at any rate you -must wait till your giddiness is cured. A giddy catechist, to judge -from the scene in my kitchen to-day, might give rise to serious -scandals! I know a person who will exactly suit Mr. Geddie, if the -salary can be made sufficient; and I am much obliged to you, Joseph, -for having brought me the information. You may rest assured too, -Joseph, that if you will but do your duty with all your might, in the -circumstances in which Providence has placed you, you are making the -very best preparation for the great change which, sooner or later, -will overtake us all.' And with this moral sentiment still ringing in -his ears, Joseph found himself dismissed and on the gravel in front of -the house, not only a disappointed, but an utterly discomfited man. He -retraced his steps to the village, and went back to his joiner-work -thinking how little good had come to him out of his idle morning. - - - - - CHAPTER XXXIV. - - "_WOOED AN' MARRIED AN' A'_." - - -Joseph Smiley lived in a small cottage all by himself. It was not on -the main street, but built in what should have been the back yard of a -house on that thoroughfare, and was approached by a narrow passage -round the end of the house in front. It was just the place for any one -who desired retirement, being extremely private, which, strangely -enough, seems the great desideratum of all inquisitive people. Joseph -was extremely expert in spelling out the affairs of his neighbours -from external signs, and it may have been owing to that, that he kept -his own life so studiously in the shade, knowing so well how much may -be divined from passing glimpses. He spoke of his home as 'juist the -bit placey whaur he bed,' 'weel eneugh for a quiet lanesome chield -like himsel', but no' fit to tak folk til,' which was scarcely doing -it justice, seeing that it was perhaps the snuggest little cabin in -the village; for Joseph was a Sybarite according to his lights. It was -the best feather bed in the village on which he took his nightly rest, -and there was a comfortably cushioned chair or two in which he might -repose during the day. The cupboard contained pickles, spices, and a -good many bottles; for his fare was dainty, and far different from the -vigorous parritch on which he professed to subsist. Parritch may be -said to have been the food of his imagination, for he continually -spoke of it, but it was with something considerably more succulent -that he nourished his material frame. - -Yet Joseph enjoyed a high reputation for saving thrift. - -This was owing to the fierceness of his principles, his tenacity in -holding them, and the vigour with which he carried them out. There is -nothing in the world so helpful as a clear understanding between a man -and himself as to what it really is which he wants, and a consistent -pertinacity in meaning to have it; and yet it seems even rarer than -the self-knowledge so highly recommended. Think of the force wasted in -desultory effort for the attainment of what is really not desired! - -Joseph's principles might all have been resolved into one, and that -was to take care of Joseph Smiley. Nothing was too good for that -cherished person, so he got the lead; and as nobody else ever got -anything at all, it was not more costly than an unprincipled life of -impulse, and much more comfortable to the beloved object. Had his -brother man been allowed to dip with him in the dish, both must have -contented themselves with plain fare, but by letting the brother -forage elsewhere, a smaller and choicer mess would be enough for the -rest of the party. - -When Joseph went out in the morning he locked his door and handed the -key to Peggy Mathieson, his neighbour, whom he employed to make his -bed, cook his meals, and 'do' for him generally. Peggy was a lone -widow, who supplied the youth of the village with bullseyes and -marbles. She was discreet and silent, asked no questions and told no -tales, and knew how to make him comfortable. - -On the evening of the day which had witnessed Joseph's discomfiture at -Auchlippie, Peggy was engaged as usual in preparing his evening meal. -The fire was lit, and the kettle set to boil, the floor swept, the tea -things arranged on the table, and a neat rasher stood ready for the -frying pan when he should come in. She was giving a last look around -to see that all was in order before retiring to her own premises, when -the door opened and Tibbie Tirpie walked in, followed by her daughter -carrying a baby. Each had a basket on her arm, and both took seats, -which they drew up to the hearth, and seated themselves, before either -appeared to observe that any one else was present. As for Peggy, she -was a woman of few words, and her employer she knew to be what in -higher circles is called a peculiar person, that is one with whose -affairs it is safest not to meddle, except by his particular request; -therefore she stood silent waiting to be addressed. - -'I wuss ye gude e'en, Peggy!' said Tibbie. 'We're juist waitin' for -Joseph to come in, and we'll bide till then, e'en gin he be late; sae -ye needna mind stoppin' here for hiz. We'se mak out brawly our lane!' - -'Aweel, Tibbie, I'se leave ye, for my yett's steikit, an' aiblins -there's bairns wantin' some o' my sma' trokes, an' wearyin' to get -in.' - -'An' noo, Tibbie,' said the mother when they were left alone, 'gie me -the bairn, an' gang ye til yer bed. Aiblins ye'll can sleep. Ony gate -steik yer eyen ticht, an' dinna cheep, what e'er may come o't; an' -let's see gin I canna gar this balksome naig o' yours tak baith bridle -an' saidle, ay, an' a lick or twa o' the whup as weel afore I'm -through wi' him. Heest ye, lass! an' dinna staand there fummlin' wi' -prins. Aff wi' yer bannet an' in wi' ye! Juist hap up weel. It's a -kittle job at the best, but gin I'm to hae ye at the greetin' on my -haands, forby him, I may lay by afore I begin. In wi'ye!' - -Thus exhorted, the daughter lay down in the bed, and covered herself -with the blankets. - -'Turn round t'ey wa', Tibbie! Ye'd be for keekin' at ween yer eyen, -an' greetin', (wha kens?) an' gin he catches sicht o' a sign o' -saftness in ye, it's a' ower wi' you an' the bairn!' - -The daughter complied, and Tibbie, seated before the fire, brought out -certain little habiliments from her basket, and proceeded to array her -grandchild for the night, hanging his daylight apparel on chairs, on -all the chairs she could find, and marshalling them before the fire, -till that staid apartment assumed the appearance not only of a -nursery, but of one for a dozen infants. Having got so far, she had -leisure to survey the refreshments provided for her son-in-law. - -'Od, Tibbie! ye'll be rael crouse here, woman! The best o' a' thing, -an' plenty! An' here's as bonny a fry o' bacon as e'er was seen! I'se -on wi' 't til the fire. It gars a body's mouth water juist to see til -'t! He little thocht, honest man, it wad be his gudemother wad fry his -supper for him the nicht! Ay faigs! 'An' eat her share o' 't as weel. -But there's little enough for twa here,' she added, going to the -cupboard where the remainder of the flitch was discovered, as well as -the other little comforts and supplies with which Joseph had provided -himself. - -'My certie, laad! But ye live weel! An' ye'll do credit to yer -gudemither or a's dune! He was aye ane o' the unco gude, an' here's -the gude livin'! Whether it be holy livin' or no'.' - -Another plentiful rasher was cut, the frying-pan laid on the coals, -and Tibbie returned to her seat. But now, disturbed by so many -gettings-up and sittings-down, the babe began to whimper. - -'Whist, my bonny man! Ye'se hae yer share o' yer daddie's supper as -weel as the lave!' And thereupon she emptied the contents of Joseph's -milk jug into a basin. Then she cut the nice new loaf and broke some -of the bread into the milk; after that a contribution was levied on -the sugar basin, and lastly the singing kettle completed the gracious -mess, of which the wandering heir thus unexpectedly returned to his -father's halls partook with appetite. Then stretching himself out in -his grandmother's arms, he fell asleep. - -Joseph Smiley being a beadle, and liable to be called away at all -times and seasons, worked by the piece. He was a good workman, and so -could dictate in some measure his terms. He was working on the new -church, and having lost so much time fruitlessly in the morning, he -remained at work after the other men had left. It was nearly dark, -therefore, when at last he laid aside his tools and moved homewards -very much beyond his usual hour. - -He had been depressed and disgusted with himself all day. How could -he, a man of sense as he had always supposed, and one accustomed to -play upon the weaknesses of his fellows--how had it ever come to pass -that he, so clear-sighted as he thought, should have come to grief in -this utterly discreditable fashion? To himself it was incomprehensible, -though to the perspicuous reader plain enough. Joseph had been trying -to do two things at once--to capture both Jean and her Mistress, -meaning to use whichever might happen to answer best in the end; and -he had missed both, as any man of his intelligence should have known -would come of it. But then small successes make a man conceited, and -conceit makes a man blind (Pray to be defended from small successes, -my reader!) It is the single eye which hits the mark. - -As Joseph walked along the main street, a subtle fragrance seemed to -hover in the air, thin, bright, appetizing, but indefined. - -'Hech!' he said to himself, 'somebody has a gude supper the nicht! I -wuss I was there.' - -As he neared the approach to his own dwelling the odour began to grow -specific. - -'That's bacon, an' gye an' like my ain!' - -The '_close_' reached, the whole air seemed greasily aromatic. 'Can -Peggy be eatin' my bacon hersel'? I ne'er catched her yet at ony sic -tricks; but still water's rael deep. I'se drap on her an' her no -thinkin', an' hae my share o' 't, an' gin I dinna eat an' drink tea -an' sugar and bread to the vailey o' a' she's stealt, I'm no Joseph -Smiley!' - -Joseph hurried homeward so quickly, and so full of thief-catching -thoughts, that he failed to observe the gleam of the candle from his -casement. Joseph always lighted his candle himself. It was therefore -as if some one had struck him when he threw the door open, and the -cheerful light of the fire and two candles fell on his sight. Tibbie -seeing a spare candlestick and a number of candles, thought that if -the candle on the table was necessary along with the fire-light for a -solitary man, it would need at least one more candle to lighten his -family fittingly. Wherefore she stuck a candle in the spare -candlestick, and when the daylight outside had altogether faded away, -she lit the two candles and heaped fresh fuel on the hearth. - -Joseph stood in the doorway contemplating the scene. Had he been -drinking? The candle was double. But no! He had washed down his dinner -with a draft of buttermilk, and that was never known to go to -anybody's head. - -The air was heavy with the richness of frizzling bacon. The chairs -were gathered like a palisade around the hearth, and hung all over -with baby linen. Joseph's next idea was that he had mistaken the -house, turned up the wrong close or entry. No! There was Peggy at her -back door, ostensibly sweeping something out, but, as Joseph knew full -well, in reality watching to see what he would do or say. Was she -partner in some plot against him? Then he would leave her no excuse or -opportunity to intervene and join forces with the enemy. He entered -with as resolute a stride as he could assume, and banged the door -behind him. - -'Hm!' he coughed with a mighty effort, endeavouring to rally his -sinking heart, where black foreboding sat heavily and blocked the -lagging current of his blood, while cobwebs of misgiving seemed -gathering in his throat, till the nearly stifled voice could hardly -come. - -'Whisht man! whisht!' hissed Tibbie in her loudest whisper, from the -hearth where she sat, and throwing up a warning hand. 'Ye'll waaken -yer wife! Hsh! She's beddet! an' she's sleepin'. - -'Tibbie Tirpie!' The exclamation hovered feebly about Joseph's lips, -like the thin grey smoke that hangs over a hill of burnt whins, when -food for fire has been exhausted, and nothing remains but black and -hopeless desolation. The bag of tools slipped from his nerveless -fingers with a clatter. - -'Ca' canny! Joseph! or ye'll waaken yer bairn! Yer supper's juist -ready, sae set ye down.' - - -[Illustration: "An' wha bade ye come here, an' mak my supper, -gudewife?" Page 271.] - - -'An' wha bade _ye_ come here? an' mak my supper, gudewife?' - -'Hoot, toot, Joseph! Say naething! It's nae fash ava! Think ye yer -gude-mither wadna do faar mair nor that for ye? Juist bide or ye see!' - -Here the baby, aroused by the talking, opened its eyes, and the -grand-mother began to shake and addle him after the usual manner of -nurses. - -'Bonny man! An' did his daddie waaken him?' - -'He's gotten yer ain glint o' the e'e, Joseph! Ye pawkie rascal! I'se -tell ye he's the gleg ane like his faither afore him.' - -'Lay by, gudewife! an' get ye hame! you an' a' belangin' to ye! Ye hae -carried on eneugh for ae nicht, an' I'se hae nae din here!' - -Tibbie made no reply. She merely regarded the speaker with a shrug of -amusement, mingled with a dash of humorous pity, while she lifted the -frying-pan from the coals and deposited the bacon done to a nicety on -the dish. She then began to place the second rasher which she had cut -in the pan; but this was more than Joseph could endure. - -'Let alane o' my baacon, ye auld jad!' he cried, 'an' get ye gane! you -an' a' yer tribe.' - -Then followed a silence of some duration, for Tibbie did not seem to -think the last observation worthy of notice. At length, however, she -spoke again. - -'Are ye for nae baacon the nicht, than, Joseph? I'm thinkin' I cud eat -maist a' 'at's fried mysel'. An' I wadna say but Tibbie micht be for -tryin' juist a bittie, whan she waakens out o' her first sleep.' - -'Tibbie! say ye?' gasped Joseph, looking around. His eyes fell on the -disordered bed, and there they fastened, widening and rolling as -though they beheld a ghost. - -'Gudesakes! Pity me! gin there's no' a wummin' i' my very bed! To the -de'il wi' the weemin', say I! gin ye gang na to _them_, they'se come -efter _ye!_ Sae there's nae haudin' awa frae them!' - -'Deed no! Joseph! an' that's sae. Whan it's a likely bit chappie, like -yersel'. They're no that plenty, ye see. But keep up yer heart, laad! -Atween yer wife an' yer gude-mither, ye'll be clear o' the lave. Ye -needna misdoubt o' that.' - -'But set ye doon an' eat yer supper, or it grows cauld,' she -continued, at the same time selecting a piece of the bacon from the -dish and putting it in her mouth with manifest relish. - -'Lay by! ye auld wutch. An' awa wi' ye!' cried Joseph, roused into -vigour by the raid on his provisions. 'I'se pet ye out gin ye winna -gang!' - -'No ye winna! Joseph. Ye hae mair sense nor raise a din whan it's -yersel' wad get the dirdom o't.' - -'Gang quiet then, an' gang smart!'' - -'An' wad ye? Honest noo! wad ye raelly pet 's a' out e'y the dark this -nicht? There's yer ain wee bairn no sax month auld. An' him juist in -his wee sark, an' a' his coats hingin' afore the fire! Wad ye noo? - -'Deed then, Luckie, an' I wad!' cried Joseph, gathering courage at the -tone of remonstrance he thought he detected in the old woman's voice. -'An' it's no afore my fire but intil't, the duds o' yer dochter's brat -sall gang, ay! an' her ain as weel! gin ye tak na them out o' here. -The shameless limmer! to lay hersel' down in a decent man's bed, an' -never "wi' yer leave?"' He even got so far as to begin tossing the -child's clothing together in a heap, when the old woman, snatching a -brand from the hearth, struck him across the hand with the red hot -end, making him desist with a scream of pain. He glared at her for an -instant as if about to rush on her, then wavered and turned round as -if about to call for help. - -'Noo! set ye doon, Joseph Smiley! an hear sense. Gin ye gang yaupin' -an' skirlin' out there, ye'se raise a din wull do far mair scaith to -yersel', nor it can til hiz. An' gin ye aince raise 't, ye'll ne'er -can lay't again! sae keep ye a calm sough, an' let me hae my say.' - -It wasna muckle,' she continued, ''at I kenned o' you an' Tibbie's -on-gaein's, whan I spak to ye first, an' I spak ye fair, an' ye ken -what cam o' 't--juist naething ava, sae noo I hae fand out a'thing, -an' I hae ta'en advice, an' ye beut to yield, or I can gar ye. I'll -pruive yer contrac' an' promise o' mairriage by auld Forsyth 'at I -ance named to ye afore, an' hoo ye garred puir Tibbie swear no' to let -on, sae lang as Jess Clapperton be'd a single woman, for fear she suld -hae ye up afore the shirra for breach o' promise, an' get a' yer -siller frae ye for daamage. Weel she's waddet noo, sae the steek's aff -Tibbie's mouth, an' sae she's gane an' brocht hame yer bairn, an' ye -beut to tak them hame til ye, or I'se gar ye! ye dirty tinkler's tyke! -Ye wad hae gotten them to set the puir lass on the cuttie stule, alang -o' the minister's bairn, an' _ye_ kennin' the very contrar yer ain -sel'! But, my certie! gin scaith or scorn e'er fa's on _her_, it's -_ye_ sall stand aside her, an' tak yer share! An' Jean Macaulay wad be -the first to fling the rotten eggs at ye--ye leein' brock! Didna I -hear ye evenin' my dochter t'ey cuttie stule afore Jean, wi' my ain -lugs, an' garrin' auld Elspeth lauch? Od! but I'd hae liket to pu' the -ill scrapit tongue out o' yer leein' head! An' what's mair, I'se do't -yet, gin ye tak na tent. But there's nae gude, ye an' me to gang -fechtin'. We ken ane anither by noo--yer character's gane, and yer -name o' godliness in Glen Effick, an' ye'se be peuten out o' the -beadleship, gin ye mak a fash--an' the shirra wad gar ye tak her after -a'. Sae juist ye tak thocht in time, an' say naething ava! Ye hae na -sped sae waur as mony anither birkie laad, 'at wad before tryin' on -his gemms. For Tibbie's a decent lass an' a bonny, tho' it's me 'at -says't, (an' ne'er a word wad there hae been o' her, gin it hadna been -for that auld rinketer Briggs, my leddy's wumman up by), an' she liket -ye rael weel ance, an' she may again, gin ye're juist ordnar gude til -her.' - -Joseph sat and listened with a lengthening visage, and his finger in -his mouth. He felt very foolish. A scandal would ruin him in Glen -Effick, and after the scene of the morning he had nothing to hope from -the good opinion of his whilom patroness Mrs. Sangster, or his late -sweetheart Jean Macaulay. He would become the common talk, and no girl -worth anything would have a word to say to him. He felt like some gay -butterfly caught by the heel in a cobweb of gossamer. Why flutter his -pretty wings any more? They would only get broken for nothing. He -would never fly again! The admiring flowers would spread their rosy -bosoms all in vain, and breathe their fragrant sighs. Poor, poor -Lothario! His day was done. He was caught at last. And there like a -dreadful spider sat Tibbie, his (to be) mother-in-law, regarding him -with red-rimmed eyes, and opening her mouth to devour--well, if not -him, at least his bacon. As he looked, she selected another tempting -slice (it was cooling now), and her jaws closed on it with a snap, -followed by a snort of relish. - -'Aweel, Tibbie! Ye can gang hame for the nicht, you an' yer dochter. I -wad like to think ower't, an' sleep on't.' - -'Fient a stap her or me sall gang out ower yer door, Joseph Smiley, -afore Sawbith! We micht na get in sae chancey next time. O' Sawbith -she'll gang linket wi' ye t'ey Kirk, an' I'se walk ahint ye, carryin' -yer bairn. Sae ye maun speak t'ey minister the morn, an' speir him to -baptise't. An' sae ye'll can explain a' thing t'ey minister yersel', -afore they hae time to raise clashes. Ye can juist tell the tale about -Jess Clapperton, 'at ye made a fule o' puir Tib wi'. I wad na say but -it micht do for the minister very weel, an' _ye_ ken hoo to put legs -an' arms til't as weel as the next ane. Ye was ne'er at a loss for a -lee in yer life, Josey, my man, I'm thinkin'! Losh keep me! I'm -thinkin' I've begood to like ye a'ready! It'll be yer ain fau't gin I -be na the _gude_ mither to ye, forby the gude-_mither_. Set ye doon -noo, an' tak yer supper. I'm fear'd it's cauld for ye, an' ye'll hae -to drink yer tea wantin' the milk. Wee Josey drank that a while syne. -It's a' e'y family! An' syne, I'm fear'd ye'll hae to sleep e'y fluir -for the nicht; for me an' the bairn's gaun in aside Tibbie.' - -Joseph groaned in spirit, and ate his supper in silent despair. Not -one kick of resistance was left in his miserable soul, and he -submitted to his fate as meekly as Sindbad, after some experience of -the old man of the sea, found it best to do. - -Tibbie devoted her attention to the entertainment of the young heir, -who seemed to enjoy his return to the paternal hall, and rode on her -knee crowing in the highest spirits, to the enlivening strains of-- - - - 'Wooed sn' married an' a',' - - -which his grandam lilted to him, with just a suspicion of malice in -her humorous triumph. - - - - - CHAPTER XXXV. - - _FOUND_. - - -Time hung rather heavily on Kenneth's hand. The raw damp autumn -offered little temptation to exercise out of doors. His daily ride to -Glen Effick was discontinued, his friends having left; and he smoked -cigars in the billiard-room, or wrote letters in his own, the -live-long day. Julia, hitherto so available, was now never to be found -when wanted, or if she did appear, her ready sympathy with the whim of -the moment, and her quickness to suggest congenial pastime, seemed to -have forsaken her. She sat mostly in her own room now, or in Lady -Caroline's, which, as far as Kenneth's entertainment was concerned, -was much the same thing. She, who had formerly taken so much interest -in mess-room reminiscences and general gossip, would now look up -vacantly when she was addressed, as though her thoughts had been far -away, and were only induced to return for a moment by a sense of -politeness. The distribution of the morning letters would rouse her a -little--there appeared always to be letters for her now--but having -secured her own, she would relapse into abstraction, and seize the -earliest opportunity to withdraw. - -Kenneth had letters of his own to write now, and knew all about the -coming in and going out of mails for Torquay. But that occupied only a -portion of his time, and he felt aggrieved that Julia should be so -pre-occupied. 'What is the use of a girl in the house if she is always -to be busy?' He expressed his discontent to Lady Caroline, who was -immensely amused. - -'Julia is engaged, Kenneth, or almost; for it is not announced yet.' - -'I am very glad to hear it, mother, I am sure. If the girl had stayed -here much longer without marrying, she might have felt herself badly -used if I did not marry her myself. And I do not know that I am equal -to marrying for politeness. But why should that prevent her being -jolly at home? unless, indeed, the man is Bluebeard, and she expects a -bad time? _I_ am engaged myself, but I think I could be jolly on that -account, if only there was opportunity.' - -Lady Caroline said nothing; but she was amused, as often before, at -the single-minded egotism of his lordly sex, which knows no law but -its own pleasure, and imagines that must be equally delightful to -every one else. The male baby graciously believes that it pleases his -nurse to sing herself hoarse in coaxing him to sleep, and he is -pleased that she should make herself happy, shaking his rattle till -her arm aches, in endeavouring to amuse him; and all subsequent female -ministrations to his solacement are accepted in the like simple good -faith that it must be joy to the girl to be merry in his company, and -that mirth is its own reward. - -Lady Caroline liked her son better for his unreasonableness, and felt -proud of herself, in being the mother of such a rajah. Wherever the -idolatrous instinct exists, there must be a love of the unreasonable. -Who could worship a being capable of being argued with, persuaded, -coaxed, or bullied? It is the utter passiveness of Juggernaut that -attracts his devotees. No matter how ugly he may be, he sits there -serene among his gilded carved work, while the crashing wheels of his -car grind on their course regardless of the blood and groans of -mangled victims--force unpitying and inflexible. - -It was some weeks before Major Steele would come to Inchbracken, not, -indeed, till the last shred of autumn had been withered up by foot or -swept away by wintry storms. He lingered on by the sea shore, -wandering for hours by the hungry waves which swallowed up his love, -accompanied by his old mother, in whose unspoken sympathy alone he -seemed to find comfort. He seldom spoke to her, but he shunned every -one else. When, however, winter became established, her health -compelled them to return to town. There the closer contact with his -fellows inseparable from city life became intolerable, and he was glad -to avail himself of Kenneth's invitation, reminding him at the same -time of the freedom and privacy he had promised. - -Lady Caroline agreed that they should see as few visitors as possible -during the poor man's stay; 'but, indeed,' she added, 'we have all -grown so unsociable since we became engaged, that the excluded will -have nothing to regret.' - -'Indeed I am not engaged, dear Lady Caroline!' remonstrated Julia in a -subdued voice. - -'And indeed, mother, I am not unsociable,' added Kenneth, who was -going on to 'define his position,' as precisely as an American senator -does, but his voice was drowned in the uproarious guffaw with which -his uncle greeted his opening words. - -'Poor man!' moralized Julia, 'the quiet of the country will soothe -him. His was indeed a fearful calamity.' - -'Ah yes!' sighed Lady Caroline, 'and I declare I like him the better -for being inconsolable! They are not all so tender-hearted and -faithful, Julia, by any means. Now, my General! Do you think _I_ can -count on leaving so much desolation behind me? The idea would almost -console one for having to go.' - -'You forget, my dearest lady,' said the General finishing his egg (it -was at breakfast), Major Steele had been less than two years married. -Providence has been far kinder to us than that, and I doubt not, when -the time of our separation shall arrive at last, that you will wear -your weeds admirably, and continue to justify the opinion I have -always held of you as the best dressed woman of my acquaintance.' - -It was December when Major Steele arrived at Inchbracken. The ground -was powdered with early snow, and the higher hilltops looked solidly -white and alpine. The sharp air and the movement had stirred his -torpid blood into some appearance of animation, but as the excitement -of arrival wore off, he relapsed into wan despondency, and was indeed -a melancholy object. - -The two older men from the first gave up the case in reverent despair. -What had there ever been in their most comfortable but burdensome -lives, to entitle them to intrude their ignorant sympathy on the -unparalleled tragedy of this man's sore bereavement? Like Job's three -friends, they would have sat by him without speaking for three days -and three nights, with eyes fixed sorrowfully on the carpet, had human -life been still as of old, a majestic but monotonous sequence -extending over centuries; but in its modern abbreviated form, with so -many things to attend to in the brief threescore and ten, that was -impossible. They sighed and looked gloomy when they found themselves -near him, and then escaped to some other quarter of the house with all -decent speed. - -It was on Kenneth, as old friend and special host, that the full duty -of condolence devolved. He led his friend to the smoking-room where -they could sit together by the hour in silent amity, watching the blue -smokerings widen and disappear, companionable to each other's sight, -yet leaving the mind at rest from disturbing talk. Fearing to touch -unwisely on the open wound, Kenneth did not venture on any allusion to -his friend's bereavement. Mary's commission was ever present in his -mind, but he dared not approach the subject to raise a hope that might -only be quenched again in deeper gloom. He dared not question him -even, that he might judge of the probability for himself; he simply -waited, hoping that in time the other would give the opening which he -desired. - -Julia was perhaps the most successful sympathizer in the household. -Her fine dramatic instinct enabled her to throw herself into the -artificial mood, and play the part with an abandon relieved and varied -by graceful little touches which she could never have displayed in her -natural character. She was a woman with a head rather than a heart, -and it was when feeling was presented to her through the imagination -rather than her own emotions, that she was able to realize, seize and -clothe it in expression. Her performance in the new rôle of 'Woman the -Consoler,' was delicate, but beautiful and touching in the extreme, -and more than once brought the handkerchief to honest Lady Caroline's -eyes, who declared in confidence to her General that Julia was a 'fine -creature,' and far too good for that vulgar Cr[oe]sus in Manchester. -Perhaps the same idea may have struck Julia, or it may have been that -the artist in her was engrossed by the new delineation of character, -and revelled, for the time, in the artificial emotions of her own -creation. It is certain that the Manchester correspondence lost much -of its interest. The morning letter was slipped into her pocket as -usual, at breakfast, but she no longer seized the first opportunity to -escape with it to her own room, and by the end of the week she found -three of them still in her pocket unopened. They were all opened at -once, glanced over, and locked up in the drawer with those that had -gone before them, and some sort of an answer was scrawled to 'Dear -Augustus.' It was scarcely so charming a letter as some that had -preceded it, and Augustus thought so, with his first twinge of love, -pain, and jealousy; for hitherto his path had been one of rose-strewn -triumph. But the letter did not take long to knock off--that was the -main point at the moment--and she descended the stairs, gloved and -bonneted, for a stroll by the lake, before Major Steele had begun to -think of growing impatient. - -When the bereaved widower first arrived at Inchbracken, Julia was very -silent. Young innocence and awakening womanhood stood appalled before -the revelation of grief and mystery in human life. Her eyes and voice -drooped plaintively, but it was not till the following morning that -she and the sufferer exchanged a word. Even then it was but little -that was said, some civil words of routine, but the gentle pensive -droop in word and look, distilled like heavenly dew over some acrid -waste. Even so the Angel of Pity may look down on the vanquished and -sore wounded in the battle of life; and the poor woe-begone Major felt -grateful and consoled at the gentle tribute to his grief. She would -linger in the breakfast-room with needle work or a book, and the Major -got into a way of hovering round, as some frost-benumbed toad might -creep from under his cold stone, to stretch his stiffened limbs, and -thaw them in the watery sunshine of a February afternoon. When this -arrangement seemed growing into a habit, Julia betook herself to the -morning-room, which she could count on having to herself at that hour, -for pursuing her work or studies. Presently the door would open and -the widower would appear, asking her permission to sit awhile, and -apologizing for his intrusion. There must have been companionship in -each other's presence, for there was not much conversation, and what -there was was vapid enough; but the divine pity in Julia's pensive -droop transfused itself through each syllable, and the desolate one -felt soothed and refreshed. - -What Julia felt, it is difficult to say, and one cannot but wonder -that, after the first three days, she did not find the whole business -a lackadaisical bore. We can only suppose that life in the proper -character and circumstance of Julia Finlayson had become intolerably -dull, and that she had adopted those of the Angel of Pity by way of a -change. She could not have seriously contemplated capturing the -broken-hearted widower, especially since Lady Caroline had just -secured Mr. MacSiccar's report as to the fortune and standing of -Augustus Wallowby, Esquire. The report had been most satisfactory, in -fact had so far exceeded expectation, that good Lady Caroline had been -seduced into a momentary irreverence at the ways of Providence, in -giving vulgar people so much money. She was sorry for it immediately -after, however, for she was a good Tory, and honoured the powers that -be, among which Providence admittedly takes the first place. As to the -vulgarity even, Lady Caroline might have been brought to admit that -she had seen examples of it in circles bordering very closely on the -Court, and she would not have been at all reluctant to acknowledge -that it existed in the army, and when found there was quite as -offensive as any thing that the proverbial Manchester of her day could -produce. - -At last a morning came, when, over a sympathetic pipe, the Major -expressed a wish to go and look at the Effick water, where all his -happiness and love had come to such dismal shipwreck. - -'All right,' said Kenneth; 'would you like to drive over to-day? We -shall have plenty of time if we start at once. The dog-cart can be got -out in twenty minutes, and we may be off in half an hour.' - -He had now the opportunity he had been waiting for to fulfil Mary's -commission, and already he felt himself writing to her in triumph, and -describing how judiciously he had fulfilled her wish. He took the -proofs she had given him of the poor baby's identity from his desk, -and placing them in his pocket, was ready to mount the dogcart when it -was brought round. The brotherhood of so many silent pipes had at last -established itself between him and his friend Steele. The poor fellow -at last felt able to speak the thoughts that were gnawing at his -heart, and as they drove along that wintry road down to the sea, he -spoke freely of his misery and of the shipwreck. - -'Were there any passengers by the 'Maid of Cashmere' besides Mrs. -Steele?' Kenneth ventured to ask. - -'Old Brigadier Currie had engaged the state-room on one side of the -cabin for himself and his native servants, and I had taken the other.' - -'And had the captain or crew any women and children on board, do you -think?' - -'My wife, her maid, and the baby were the only females on board.' - -'Then cheer up, old fellow! Perhaps things are not so bad as we have -been thinking! Do you know that, now, for instance?' he added, pulling -out the gold chain from his pocket. - -'Know it? That? If I could believe my eyes I would say it belonged to -my wife!' He took the chain and handled it very tenderly, and then -went on. 'There was an old Begum we had been able to be kind to. A -hill tribe had attacked her town, and she had fled for protection to -Dourgapore, where we were stationed. My wife was the only lady in the -station, therefore she was put under her care, and when she went back -to her principality, after we had driven off the marauders, she made -my wife some presents, and among the rest a bag of gold mohurs. I was -doubtful how receiving a money present would sound at head-quarters, -but our Colonel said it was a matter between the women, I could not be -held to know anything about. However, to prevent misrepresentation, we -determined to make it into jewellery, so we got a native goldsmith to -string the pieces into a long chain. He sat in our compound and -riveted the coins together with bits of gold wire, while we sat under -the verandah looking on. You know these creatures are always watched -while they work, to prevent their swallowing the gold, they are such -inveterate thieves. But how came this into your possession? A piece of -it was found clutched in my poor Lydia's hands when she was found.' - -'Then I may tell you. I would have written weeks ago, but I was afraid -to add disappointment to your other misfortunes, so I asked you to -come here, and when you had come I found I could not speak to you -about it. A man's grief seems such a sacred thing. But now. There was -a friend of mine actually saw that ship caught up by the storm, and -carried in shore and dashed against the rocks. They are rocks -completely surrounded by water and surf at a high tide, and with an -easterly wind. He could not possibly get near, and there was no human -dwelling within sight, or for miles around, so he could give no help. -But the following morning he was riding along the shore very -early--earlier than the fisher folk, who, of course, came prowling -along later in search of plunder and sea wreck. He came on the bodies -of several of the drowned, and at last on a lady with her Indian maid. -The lady had a piece of that chain twisted in her fingers, and not far -off he came on a little baby so carefully tied up, and still alive. He -had his own duties for the day, and he could be of no service to the -dead, who, he knew besides, would be cared for by the proper -authorities in a very little while, so he left them where they lay. -But the baby was alive, and while he was examining it looked up in his -face with such a friendly trustful look that he could not help taking -it up and vowing to be a father to it till its own should be found.' - -'And so he has been keeping my child hidden away through all these -months of desolation!' - -'My dear fellow, he had' no intention of that whatever. He wrote to -the Edinburgh newspapers at once; but you must remember that at the -time of the shipwreck your father was not aware that he had a -grandchild at all, nor for weeks after. If Roderick Brown had left the -child beside its mother to be found by the coastguards or the -fishermen, it would have been handed over to the mercy of parish -charity, which is perhaps not over tender. And who can tell if it -would have survived till you went to claim it? The chain, too, is -heavy and valuable, and who knows but that might have been temptation -enough to keep the child out of your sight for ever?' - -'Let us go to the child at once, then, Kenneth! and not to the shore -with its miserable memories of wrecks and corpses.' - -So the horse was put about, and they struck across the moor to Glen -Effick. - - - - - CHAPTER XXXVI. - - _AUGUSTUS WALLOWBY_. - - -Eppie Ness was at her door when Kenneth and his friend drew up before -it. She had a foreboding, when she saw two of them, that the other -must be the father of her baby, and that he was come to take it away; -and tears rose plentifully to her eyes and trickled over her withered -cheeks as she led them into her house. - -The baby was in its cradle and asleep, and however homely might be the -cottage surroundings, no one could say that it had suffered from -neglect or privation. It lay among dainty coverings of cambric and -lace, like some infant princess, or a sacred image before which a -perpetual oblation of praise and incense is offered up. - -It was impossible that Steele should recognize his child, seeing that -its life had been measured only by days when he last saw it, but he -_thought_ he recognized it, and no one would dispute his right to do -so. He also observed a strong resemblance in it to its deceased -mother, which confirmed his faith in its identity, if that were -possible. Yet, when one recalls that only a few weeks before Mrs. -Sangster had seen with equal clearness its strong family likeness to -Tibbie Tirpie, one may doubt if the likeness test is of much -consequence. - -The clothing in which it had been wrapped up when found was produced. -It consisted entirely of Indian fabrics. Even Steele could tell that -much, but not having the feminine eye for embroideries and tissues, he -could not identify any of the articles. He was able to recognize his -wife's cipher, however, embroidered on a handkerchief, so that all -possibility of doubt was at an end. - -He thanked Eppie profusely, and handed her his purse as some -instalment of the debt he owed her. - -'Na na, sir!' she said, 'Miss Brown pays me weel, an' it's her ye're -awin' yer thanks til, for the care o' yer bairn, for she cudna hae -ta'en mair tent on't gin it had been her ain. I'm misdoubtin' but -she'll be wae to ken it's to be ta'en frae her. An', oh sir! gin ye -hae nae body partic'lar to mind it for ye, will ye tak _me_ for its -nurse? It wad be a sair heartbreak to me to be parted frae the wee -dawtie, an', I'm thinkin', she wad miss me hersel'!' - -Steele felt a twinge of jealousy already. To think that any one should -have a nearer place than himself in his child's regard; but he -consented, and with thanks, that his daughter should remain for the -present where she was, till he had time to consider of her future -disposal. After hanging over the cradle, awakening the baby and making -it cry with his awkward endearments, he was at last persuaded to hand -back the new and incomprehensible possession to Eppie to be soothed -and comforted, and then after lingering and talking, and repetition -manifold, Kenneth was able to get him away and to carry him home. - -All the village idlers were in the street to admire the dog-cart and -the groom, and wonder what the gentlemen could have to say in so long -an interview with Eppie Ness. No sooner had they gone, however, than -Eppie herself came forth brimming over with the news, and mightily -uplifted, if also sad at the possible chance of being parted from her -charge, to tell the neighbours that a great gentleman was claiming her -nurseling for his own child, that it was to be brought up as one of -the first ladies of the land, and that aiblins she, Eppie Ness, might -have to journey into foreign parts in attendance on the precious -infant. - -'An' it's wae gude Mister Brown wull be, to hae the wee dawtie ta'en -frae him!' - -'An' it's blate the Presbytery may weel be,' added Peter Malloch 'for -a' the daftlike clavers they hae set rinnin' fornent him.' - -Mrs. Sangster was in Ebenezer Prittie's shop when the news was brought -in of the father that had appeared to claim the minister's bairn. They -both listened to the tale with much curiosity and interest, but -without one twinge of compunction at their own uncharitable -constructions in time past. They were both far too excellent for that, -and the lady's mind too well regulated to suppose that she could -possibly have acted or thought amiss. On the contrary, she was -disposed to draw improvement and instruction from the whole matter in -the usual way, by moralizing on the inscrutable ways of Providence, -and hoping that it would be 'a warning to the church office-bearers to -practice a more abundant charity in the future, and to refrain from -hasty judgments.' - -'Hech! ay, mem,' sighed Ebenezer, 'it's juist hum'lin' to think what -haste an' uncharitableness the Presbytery hae leuten themsel's be -betrayed intil! An' Mester Dowlas! an' Mester Geddie! twa sic gude -men. That they suld sae far hae forgotten a' christian charity! It's -juist hum'lin'! But the best o' us wull gae wrang whiles!' - -Joseph Smiley was the last man in the village to hear the news. His -wife was cooking, while he sat rocking the cradle till the food should -be prepared. Tibbie came bustling in from the street. - -'There's news steerin', Tib!' she cried, 'but I haena juist gotten the -richts o't yet. Get up! Joseph Smiley, I win'er ye dinna think shame! -A muckle man like you, hingin' about the house like a singet cat, at -this time o' day! Out wi' ye! an' bring back word what's steerin'. An' -de'il a bite ye'se get, till ye can tell us a' about it!' - -'Poor Joseph! He had come to this! Laid by the heels at last! and no -mistake. The jaunty bachelor, so alert and brisk, was quenched for -ever, and a poor, meek, hen-pecked creature had taken his place, -sighing under a mother-in-law's iron yoke, which grew heavier each day -as the victim developed new capacity of endurance. - -After Tibbie's bold stroke of invasion, there was nothing left for him -but to succumb. Resistance would have raised such a scandal as must -have lost him his beadleship, and would probably have driven him from -the parish, so he had felt compelled to admit his marriage as the -lesser evil, even although it involved a severe private _rebuke_ -before the assembled kirk-session for the matrimonial irregularity. - -The bitterest day of his life was probably the Sunday on which he -'kirket' his wife. Shambling down the village street in front of his -mother-in-law, who stepped out behind with the briskness and precision -of a corporal's guard, he seemed 'going,' as Mrs. Ebenezer Prittie, -who surveyed them out of her window, observed to her spouse, 'like a -fool to the correction of the stocks,' and Mrs. P. was not sorry for -him. There was a twinkle of scornful pity in the eye of the onlookers -at seeing this notorious lady-killer thus taken in charge, which stung -Joseph's self-love like the cut of a whip; but his discomfiture was -not complete till they met Jean Macaulay. Jean surveyed their -procession with open eyes, and then looking her old sweetheart full in -the face, she threw back her head and uttered an echoing laugh. There -was a ring of vexation in the sound which might have brought -consolation for the affront, but Joseph was already too miserable to -be nicely observant. His eyes fell before her, and his head hung -forward in abject confusion; and he crept about his duties that day -around the tent more like a whipped cur than the brisk and -consequential beadle of other days. - -As Kenneth drove his friend home to Inchbracken, his kind heart was -rejoicing to note the improvement in his condition. The happy -discovery had acted on him like a cordial given to a fainting man. His -very bearing was altered. He sat squarely in his seat looking about -him with clear and animated eyes, a different person from the limp and -nerveless invalid, seeing nothing left to him in earth or sky worth a -moment's regard, whom he had driven out a few hours before. Finding -there was still something left in his own life to interest him, Steele -began also to interest himself in the life of his fellows. He talked -to Kenneth about the Browns who had so tenderly cared for his child, -and the Browns with Kenneth was an inexhaustible subject. Now that he -had found a friendly listener, he talked about them freely enough, and -by the time they had reached Inchbracken, Steele knew all about his -engagement. - -Understanding in what direction the morning drive had been made, the -sympathetic Julia had arranged herself for dinner in a species of half -mourning, and her voice and mien were more subduedly sorrowful than -ever. As the disconsolate entered the drawing room, she lifted her -head from a book over which she had been drooping in willowy fashion, -all mournful sympathy for the haggard desolation she expected to see -depicted on his face; but for once she found herself completely out of -tune. - -Major Steele sat down beside Lady Caroline and began to recount the -discovery he had made--what a miracle had occurred on his behalf, and -what a paragon among infants was his new found daughter. - -'Mary Brown's baby! your daughter?' cried Lady Caroline. 'That is -perfectly delightful! Would you like me to send over for it, that you -may have it here under your own eye?' - -She was probably not very sorry, however, that Major Steele thought it -would be better for him to make a daily visit to his offspring, until -he could arrange to remove it to Edinburgh. - -The two elder men were agreeably surprised by the brightened manner of -their guest. He seemed transformed since morning from a dismal -hypochondriac, into a person cheerful and companionable; or, as -Captain John put it, 'he seemed to have completely picked himself up.' -He in particular was well pleased to meet some one who could talk to -him of India, and enable him to live over again the years he spent -there in his youth. It followed that they sat longer than usual in the -dining room, drank their coffee there, and adjourned straight to the -smoking room, so that the ladies saw no more of them that evening. - -This was just as well for Julia, whose artistic soul had been sadly -jarred by finding herself pitched in a wrong key. It took her hours to -modulate down into a more everyday state of feeling,--for there must -be a kind of feeling at the back even of make-believe emotion, if it -is to be a successful representation. But that was only part of what -she would have to do. The spectator must be led down by easy -gradation, or her revulsion from pensive melancholy to a chastened -cheerfulness might seem abrupt, intentional, and ridiculous. -Artificial feeling has this advantage in displaying itself, that it is -single, and free from the complexities and contradictions which -confuse and distract the real, in its manifestation; and hence grief -on the stage is often beautiful, while in private life it is generally -revolting and grotesque. But this very singleness and clear definition -makes it more difficult for the artificial to change front; while the -real, having been always blurred and muddy and indistinct, can readily -transfer itself to a new category. The floating cloud passes readily -enough from the form of an eagle to a ship, a horse or a whale; but -clay once trimmed and modelled into a given shape must be broken down -and worked up afresh in order to take a new form. Julia therefore kept -in the background for a day or two, before coming forward prominently -in a new rôle. Prominence, however, was by no means so very easy now. -Since Major Steele's mind had recovered a healthier tone, the men in -the house were all eager for his company. The General had Blue-Books -and Reports of the Board of Control on which he desired information, -and Captain John talked pig-sticking and tigerhunts by the hour. - -If Julia would only have taken some personal interest in the baby, she -might have succeeded, but she was much too clever and artistic to try -any course so obvious as that. Besides, she abominated babies. 'Damp, -sticky little abominations, which always squalled when you did -anything to them! and scrabbled their little wet fingers over your -face, which was always unpleasant, and sometimes inconvenient.' If she -would have talked about bringing up young children, infant health and -disease, baths, powders, pap and teething, she might have kept the -Major at her side by the hour; for the new responsibilities of a -parent weighed heavily upon him, and he had no one to advise with, -Lady Caroline having forgotten all she ever knew on such matters, if -she ever knew anything. He rode over to Eppie every day and had long -talks with her on the engrossing subject; but when he returned, the -billiard room or smoking room were his usual haunts. - -It was not long too before Julia had other matters of her own to -attend to. Since the awakening of her fantastical interest in Major -Steele, Augustus Wallowby's daily offerings of amorous rubbish had -grown wearisome, and reply to them a positive bore. Her letters had -grown intermittent, and dwindled down to the shortest billets. -Augustus remonstrated--waxed plaintive--drivelled--Julia lost patience -and ceased to write altogether. Had Augustus followed suit, it is -likely the correspondence would not have remained long in abeyance, -and that it would have been the lady who would have revived it; but -Augustus dared not venture on that experiment, indeed he had become -too deeply in earnest to think of it. He had thought over her pretty -speeches spoken, and written in her earlier letters, and the delight -of having a lord for a cousin and visitor, till from merely supposing -that she must admire him very much, he had worked himself up to an -almost crazy eagerness about _her_, believed himself to be cherishing -a most ardent attachment, and began to feel deeply touched at his own -sensibility. - -Likewise he had cut the ground from under his own feet; or perhaps -'burned his ships' is the more usual metaphor. On returning home from -the North, his good fortune with the ladies and this new conquest were -much in his thoughts, weighty hints and dark sayings babbled from his -lips before he was aware, and then, to mend matters, he would explain -and confide till they were made much worse. All his acquaintance knew -that he was going to be married, and the younger men reverenced him in -advance on account of the noble family he was about to enter, 'related -to half the peerage.' - -The news did not act so pleasantly for him on his lady friends. No one -should say that they had been jilted, or had made fruitless attempts -to win him! and they took care that the cooling of the intimacy should -begin on their side. His neighbour Sir Timothy Kettlebotham had three -fine daughters, with £20,000 certain to their fortunes a-piece, and he -had been wont to practise a good deal of archery with them on the -lawn, as well as to sing numberless duets and glees, and assist at -small carpet dances in the evening. But now Miss Kitura had strained -her wrist and could not draw a bow, Miss Felicia had medical orders -not to sing until her chest grew stronger, and Miss Frances was away -on a visit. He found himself condemned to dine at home four or five -times in the week, and to knock about the billiard hall of an evening -if he could secure a companion, or to fall asleep in his chair if he -could not, without a chance of the female society and admiration to -which he had grown accustomed. - -He wrote more and more pleadingly, which to Julia was more and more -tiresome, and therefore elicited no reply. In sheer desperation, he -packed his portmanteau and hurried to the north. He had a standing -invitation to return when he pleased from Mrs. Sangster, who still -cherished fatuous hopes of making him a son-in-law. Therefore, when -one frosty evening about Christmas time he drew up at the door, he was -made as welcome as the flowers in spring. Since the vindication of -Roderick Brown's character, that lady had an uncomfortable intuition -that her all-wisdom was set less store on both by her husband and -daughter. But here was the prize returned; it could be with only one -object, and these ingrates would have to admit her judicious -management after all. - -Augustus drove over to Inchbracken the following day very early. When -his card was brought to Julia she was greatly surprised, and better -pleased with the man than she had been yet. This long journey at such -a season, and over muddy roads showed some energy and strength of -purpose, and if only he would talk like a rational being and a -gentleman, instead of maundering like a lackadaisical idiot as he had -been doing of late in his letters, she believed she might bring -herself to respect and even like him. She was beginning to realize, -too, that her sympathy for Major Steele was so much brain power thrown -away. There had been something respectable, nay more, touching, and -almost grand, in such abandonment of grief and utter desolation on the -part of a widower crushed by the untimely loss of his wife and child; -but that a distinguished officer should ride away from good company -every day to drivel for hours with an old woman over a sticky infant -was preposterous, nay it was disgusting! - -There were half-a-dozen of Augustus' latest letters on her table still -unopened. She tore them open now, and glanced at the contents to place -herself _au courant_ with the gentleman's ideas, but the reading -nearly destroyed her good resolutions. The letters were both abject -and ridiculous, and she wondered how she would even learn to tolerate -such a husband, and hesitated whether to go down to him at all. Being, -however, a business minded person, who meant to settle herself -comfortably and respectably in life, and knew she could not have -everything, she choked down the unpractical idea, and after a critical -survey of herself in the glass, she went down to receive her visitor. - -Her manner was all gracious friendliness, and Augustus was disarmed -for the moment, and saved from doing anything absurd, which might have -been the death of his hopes. He had expected to be received with -coldness, and had prepared many moving protestations; he had even -selected the precise spot of the carpet on which he was prepared to -kneel; and surely that, he thought, with perhaps a tear or two (and he -had a misgiving that in certain contingencies they would not be far -of!) would finish the matter. And so it would have done, for in spite -of self-command, Julia would have laughed, and Augustus Wallowby's -love, his infatuation,--whatever it should be called,--would never -have survived a laugh. He would have rushed from the house, and no -apology would ever have induced him to return. - -They chatted as pleasantly as possible, thanks to Julia, who kept the -conversation well on the ordinary track, carefully avoiding sentiment -and everything tiresome. Augustus regained his equanimity under this -treatment, and was saved from making a fool of himself. He had come -with a purpose, however; and that purpose must be fulfilled, if not in -the melodramatic fashion he had intended, at least in such form as -circumstances would permit. He told her that his life was a burden to -him at so great a distance from her, and begged that she would let the -marriage take place the following month. - -She replied that it was very nice of him to be so impatient, of -course; but really he must allow her a little time to prepare for so -momentous a change in her life. He pressed her to name a time. She -supposed in a year. 'And you must not, dear Augustus, be so exacting -as you have shown signs of being lately. A woman should be allowed to -take the full enjoyment out of her last year of freedom. You know, -after that, you expect us to be obedient slaves. Oh yes! Don't -protest! Men are all alike!' with an engaging smile, which gratified -Augustus, and made him pull out his whiskers to their greatest length. - -He remonstrated about the year, however, with great earnestness, and -there were threatenings of a watery look in his eyes, which induced -her to relent so far; for her gracious blandishments being really well -done, had had a reflex action, and she was getting into a less hard -humour herself. - -'Six months! then,' she said. 'Now see what influence you have -already! It quite frightens me.' - -But Augustus was not yet content. He reminded her of the discomforts -of a northern spring. 'Would she not like to spend the dreariest -months of the year in Italy, with its blue skies and its--' The -special descriptive attributes of Italy forsook him at the moment, -but, 'and all that sort of thing' answered as well. 'And we might -spend Holy Week in Rome, and see all the church ceremonies; and there -are to be an unusual number of foreign princes there this year, I am -told. Would you not like to be there?' - -Julia thought that she _would_ like it. And after all, if it was to -be, the sooner she entered on her fortune, and the less time she had -to think about it beforehand, perhaps the better. So March was fixed -on as the date of their happiness, and Wallowby was led up stairs to -Lady Caroline's sitting-room, to be presented as an expectant -relative, and to be duly congratulated. The interview did not last -long, however; Lady Caroline speedily got tired of tiresome people, -and Julia, knowing the signs, bundled her admirer off in good time. He -was invited to dinner for the following day, with instructions to go -back to Manchester the day after, and to remain there till the day of -the wedding, as the settlements could be arranged between Mr. -MacSiccar (who had Lady Caroline and the General's instructions as to -what was proper) and his solicitors. - -He returned to Auchlippie in exuberant delight, and unburdened himself -of his good news to his hostess, who made shift to receive it as well -as she could. So he had come north with matrimonial intent after all! -And yet he had turned his eyes elsewhere! It was too bad! And her -husband and daughter would think less of her wisdom than ever. - -She was not very effusive in her congratulations, and she told him -that he would no doubt stay at Inchbracken when he came north next -time; from which he was left to infer that the Lady of Auchlippie had -no wish to see his face again. - - - - - CHAPTER XXXVII. - - _THE END_. - - -Roderick Brown's health rapidly improved under the milder and more -genial airs of Devon. The threatening symptoms of impending disease -were speedily mitigated, and gradually disappeared altogether. Torquay -was but a quiet little place in those days. The carriages filled with -much dressed company, and the depressing trains of hopelessly sick and -dying, were not as yet. He and his sister could go in and out as -inclination led them, and wander little disturbed by other sojourners -along the shore. - -Roderick revelled in the ease and repose that comes of the cessation -of long continued worry. He knew that there he could go, and say, and -do as he listed, with none to criticise; and for once after several -years he found himself with nothing whatever to do but amuse himself. - -He had frequent letters from the Laird, which told him all the news he -cared to know of Glen Effick, whose dust he vowed to himself he had -shaken from his feet for ever. The beadle's appearance at church -in the new character of married man had overturned and shivered to -pieces the whole fabric of scandal under which he had lain, and the -old gentleman grew quite humorous over the consternation and -recriminations of his brother elders in Session assembled. A scapegoat -had at first appeared necessary to these wiseacres, and poor Joseph -was selected as the victim on whom they might lay the punishment of -their stupid credulity, sending it and him forth into the wilderness -to be no more heard of or remembered; and it had taken all the Laird's -and the new minister's eloquence and influence to dissuade them from -their vindictive intentions, and let the poor wretch work out in peace -the heavy domestic retribution he had brought upon himself. 'I might -say,' he added, 'that we all congratulate you; but you know we never -supposed that there was anything in it, and we only regretted that you -should have taken a nonsensical accusation so seriously to heart.' - -'We all' Roderick understood to be the old gentleman's way of -including Sophia with himself, and he was greatly cheered. He kept up -a constant correspondence with the Laird himself, and took care that -Mary's letterwriting to Sophia should never flag, so that he felt by -no means cut off from her. He might have adventured a letter to her -himself now, with far greater hope than he had felt on a previous -occasion, but he had begun to doubt and wonder as to his own future -plans in life, and he misgave as to his moral right to commit another -to the hazy uncertainties he begun to see before him. His utter -outrooting from Glen Effick was not a process which could take place -without leaving changes and permanent effects on his whole nature. It -was no mere transplanting-process, in which the fibres retain some -clod of the old for stay and nourishment until they are able to spread -themselves and take hold on the new soil. His clerical brethren had -treated him as a diseased and withered branch, a weed to be plucked up -by the root and cast out of the vineyard; and finding himself thus out -for the moment, he was minded to look well about him before he -returned. - -In England he came for the first time in contact with a national -church differing from his own, and to which the traditions and -prejudices of his early training were opposed. The written prayers, -rubrical directions, and instrumental music, were all opposed to his -experience and prepossessions, so much that, in a sense, and apart -from controversial considerations, Prelacy and Popery had appeared as -nearly convertible terms. But as the novelty wore off there was much -in them conducive to devout feeling, and he could not close his eyes -to the signal and thousandfold examples of holy living which -flourished under the system. The extension of railways has assisted to -bring similar suggestions to many of his fellow countrymen. Roderick -began to realize what, perhaps, he would only have admitted in a -speculative but doubtful way before, that there are more folds than -one; or, to speak more orthodoxly, that the limits of the one fold are -not conterminous with those of one special pen in which some portion -of the faithful flock have chosen to house themselves. He began to -read more foreign theology than had been his wont, and with less of -his old feeling that he knew more and better than any dweller in lands -of a dimmer Gospel light could possibly tell him. - -Mary, of course, was not long in hearing from Kenneth that baby Steele -had been reclaimed by its new found family, and the delighted father -wrote her a letter overflowing with gratitude. He told her that he had -persuaded Eppie, who understood her constitution so wonderfully, to -remain in charge of his little Mary, and assured her that she should -be brought up to remember for life the debt of gratitude she owed to -her name-mother's charity. Mary cried a little to think that she had -lost her winsome plaything, but admitted it was perhaps just as well. -Lady Caroline might not have relished an infant in the house, not of -her kindred, and belonging to none knew whom. - -In March came the county _Courier_, describing the marriage in high -life at Inchbracken, 'Augustus Wallowby, Esquire, to the beautiful and -accomplished,' etc., with all the great doings and high festival kept -on the occasion. This was especially welcome news to Mary. She had -known of it from the beginning, but she had feared something might -happen to delay or break it off; the attachment seemed so unreal, to -judge from Kenneth's cynical observations made on the spot. Her -acquaintance with Julia had been slight, and she felt as if they did -not like each other, though she could not have said why. Julia had -always been quite civil, but Mary knew this, that she did not -understand her (Julia) in the very least, Inchbracken was going to -become her own home in the coming autumn, and she had feared that the -presence of Julia would not be conducive to her happy relations with -her mother-in-law. But that was settled, and Mary received an -occasional billet from Lady Caroline, who felt lonely and dull now -that she was deprived of Julia's companionship, and whose thoughts -naturally turned to the coming daughter-in-law. - -Roderick and Mary broke up their winter quarters soon after hearing of -Julia's marriage. They had no occasion to move northward before May or -June, but having as yet seen little of England, they determined to -move along the south coast by easy stages, stopping at famous towns on -their way, and seeing all that they could--Exeter, Dorchester, -Winchester, Portsmouth, the Isle of Wight, Canterbury, and finally -Dover. They were sorely tempted to cross the straits, but it was now -May, and if they were to see London, it was time for them to hurry -thither, for they were due in Edinburgh at the end of the month. - -They strolled down the pier to watch the steamer come in, and had the -consolation of seeing by the forlorn aspect of the landing passengers, -that their inability to cross was not an unmixed evil. The wind blew -from the east, and the confused chopping waves betokened a detestable -passage, and the seagreen visages of the people, as they followed -their baggage into the customhouse sheds, showed plainly what they had -suffered. In time there issued from the sheds a party, the chief -members of which struck them as familiar, though they could not recall -when they had seen them. A lady, whose long ringlets had somewhat lost -their curl in the damp sea air, but who did not appear to be otherwise -discomposed, walked first; a courier came next carrying her reticule, -her Murray, and her smelling bottle; a gentleman followed, dismal of -countenance and rumpled in attire. Manifestly he had not been happy -during the voyage, and he appeared to have lain down or leant up in -undesirable places. It appeared an exertion to him to drag himself to -the neighbouring 'Lord Warden,' whither their steps were bent, and yet -he had other burdens to carry. On one arm hung a voluminous fur -cloak,--evidently a lady's,--and he had also a parasol. Clutched to -his side under the other arm was a French poodle, caught below the -shoulders, with its after-part dangling helpless like a hairy -caterpillar about his legs. It appeared to be in much discomfort, -blinked piteously, and would have yelped and bitten also, but that the -breath was squeezed out of its body by the elbow which kept it in -place. A maid followed with a vast bundle of shawls, and then came a -man with a folding stool, who lingered to watch the baggage being -conveyed to the hotel. - -'Adolphe!' said the lady to the courier, 'go and bid Mr. Wallowby take -better care of that poor Fidele. I _know_ he is handling the tender -darling roughly! Men are so coarse and indifferent. I am _sure_ I -heard a whimper!' - -The delivery of Adolphe's message was followed by a shrill yelp, cut -short in the middle by want of breath, as its aggravated bearer bent -in a few more of its ribs with a jerk of his elbow, and wished it in -the sea. The lady stopped in her saunter and turned round. - -'Augustus!' she said in a severe and injured tone, 'Had you not better -wait till you get indoors, before giving way to your disgusting -brutality of temper? The servants cannot possibly admire the -exhibition.' - -At this moment she descried the Browns, and her face cleared as she -approached them with cordial alacrity. - -'Oh, Miss Brown! or Mary you must allow me to call you, we are so soon -to be cousins you know. So nice to meet old friends on setting foot in -dear Old England once more!' She was as enthusiastic over her return -as if she had been abroad for years; but then she knew Mary had never -crossed the Channel, and this was the civillest way to remind her of -it. - -Mary returned her salutation with as much effusion as she could call -up, and then turned to greet Mr. Wallowby who stood a step behind, -like the attendant of a princess on the stage. He could only bow -himself, with a weakly smile to his encumbered hands and arms, for -there was a vicious twitch about Fidele's mouth and eye, which warned -him that any relaxation of watchfulness or elbow would be followed by -a snap or perhaps an ugly bite. - -'Ah! To be sure you know each other! I had forgotten that. Met at -Auchlippie last summer, of course. It was there _we_ met first, too, -by the way, in our days of young love and inexperience. How long ago -it all seems now! And how droll! Does it not, Wallowby?' - -'Very droll,' returned the husband in a dull and absent voice, as if -he might have added, 'And very wretched, too,' but had still so much -self-respect as kept him from parading his disappointment. - -He had tasted more of gall than sweetness during his honeymoon, and -had found himself matched to so expert a manager that it was harder to -struggle than submit; and he had meekly subsided into poodle-bearer -and banker before the honeymoon was half gone through. Julia made no -pretence of admiring him now, and this was so strange an experience -that he worshipped her for her superiority, and probably loved her in -some weak and querulous fashion. Do not people love and reverence all -the queer idols they set up, if only they are strong and heavy enough -to crush their worshippers? But Julia would have none of his -endearments or devotion. They bored, and after a few days did not even -amuse her. Adolphe the courier spoke French and Italian, and she -practised herself in those tongues under his direction, which was -better than talking vapid sentiment with her husband; and so long as -their expenditure was liberal, there were plenty of talkative -foreigners--counts--princes--all sorts of interesting creatures to be -had, who conversed delightfully, and were so romantic, realizing to -her mind some of the most charming passages in the French novels she -doted on. Thus Julia enjoyed her tour immensely, and was returning -home in the best of good humour, prepared to queen it over the Misses -Kettlebotham and all the people who should come within her circle. - -Roderick stood in the back-ground. A distant bow was all the -recognition he either expected or received from the lady, and when -they moved on he followed with Wallowby. He offered to relieve him of -some of his burdens, but the poor man declined--he clung to his -service as the only hold left him on the woman he had married--though -he did wish that something would happen to Fidele; that its morning -cream, for instance, would disagree with its liver, and that it might -shortly die. - -The Browns parted with their friends at the hotel door, and hastened -to London, whence in due time they returned to Scotland. - -There is little to record in what afterwards befell them. Like -those fortunate nations which have little or no history, their lives -were happy, monotonous to the onlooker, but full of various and -engrossing interest to themselves. Mary returned to Inchbracken as -daughter-in-law in the autumn, and Lady Caroline speedily ceased to -regret that her son had not made a more splendid alliance. - -Roderick met the Laird and his family in Edinburgh, where the Laird -was a delegate from his Presbytery to the General Assembly, and before -the young man well knew it, he had said all that was in his mind both -to Sophia and her father. He spent two years in Germany to the no -small anxiety of Mrs. Sangster, who felt certain that his principles -would be sapped, and that he would come back a rationalist, or imbued -with peculiar German views, whatever that may mean. But on his return -he was called to an influential city charge, and duly married, -realizing in the end the original hopes of that worthy but somewhat -mixed old lady for the wellbeing of her daughter--a comfortable -provision for this life, and the glorious certainties of a minister's -wife for that which is to come. - -Roderick has preached and published many remarkable sermons; he is -highly respected for personal piety; and as his lucky star has more -than once interposed to prevent his being made a professor, there is -every likelihood that he will live to a good old age in peace, -contentment, and universal esteem. - - - - THE END. - - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Inchbracken, by Robert Cleland - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK INCHBRACKEN *** - -***** This file should be named 40330-8.txt or 40330-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/0/3/3/40330/ - -Produced by Charles Bowen, from page scans provided by -Google Books (Oxford University) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, -set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to -copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to -protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project -Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you -charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you -do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the -rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose -such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and -research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do -practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is -subject to the trademark license, especially commercial -redistribution. - - - -*** START: FULL LICENSE *** - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project -Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at - www.gutenberg.org/license. - - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy -all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. -If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the -terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or -entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement -and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic -works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" -or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the -collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an -individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are -located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from -copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative -works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg -are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project -Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by -freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of -this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with -the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by -keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project -Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in -a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check -the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement -before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or -creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project -Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning -the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United -States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate -access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently -whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, -copied or distributed: - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived -from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is -posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied -and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees -or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work -with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the -work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 -through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the -Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or -1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional -terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked -to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the -permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any -word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or -distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than -"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version -posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), -you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a -copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon -request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other -form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided -that - -- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is - owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he - has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the - Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments - must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you - prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax - returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and - sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the - address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to - the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." - -- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or - destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium - and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of - Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any - money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days - of receipt of the work. - -- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set -forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from -both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael -Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the -Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm -collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic -works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain -"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or -corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual -property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a -computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by -your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with -your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with -the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a -refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity -providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to -receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy -is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further -opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER -WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO -WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. -If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the -law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be -interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by -the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any -provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance -with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, -promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, -harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, -that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do -or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm -work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any -Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. - - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers -including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists -because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from -people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. -To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation -and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 -and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org - - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive -Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent -permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. -Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered -throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at 809 -North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email -contact links and up to date contact information can be found at the -Foundation's web site and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -For additional contact information: - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To -SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any -particular state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. -To donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic -works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm -concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared -with anyone. For forty years, he produced and distributed Project -Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. -unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily -keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: - - www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - |