As soon as the nature of the settlement which Claud had made of his
property was known, Leddy Plealands removed Mrs. Charles and the
children to her own house, and earnestly entreated her daughter the
Leddy, who continued to reside at Grippy, managing the household
cares there as usual, to exert her influence with Walter to make some
provision for his unfortunate relations. Even George, who, engrossed by
his business and his own family, cared almost as little as any man for
the concerns of others, felt so ashamed of his father’s conduct, that,
on the Sunday after the funeral, he went to pay a visit of condolence
to his mother, and to join his exhortations to hers, in the hope that
something might be done. But Walter was inexorable.
‘If my father,’ said he, ‘did sic a wicked thing to Charlie as ye a’
say, what for would ye hae me to do as ill and as wrang to my bairn? Is
na wee Betty Bodle my first-born, and, by course o’ nature and law, she
has a right to a’ I hae; what for then would ye hae me to mak away wi’
ony thing that pertains to her? I’ll no be guilty o’ ony sic sin.’
‘But you know, Walter,’ replied George, ‘that our father did intend to
make some provision both for Mrs. Charles, her family, and our sister,
and it’s really a disgrace to us all if nothing be done for them. It
was but a chance that the bond of provision was na signed.’
‘Ye may say sae, Geordie, in your cracks at the Yarn Club, o’er the
punch-bowl, but I think it was the will o’ Providence; for, had it
been ordain’t that Bell Fatherlans and her weans were to get a part o’
father’s gear, they would hae gotten’t. But ye saw the Lord took him to
Abraham’s bosom before the bond was signed, which was a clear proof and
testimony to me, that it does na stand wi’ the pleasure o’ Heaven that
she should get ony thing. She’ll get nothing frae me.’
‘But,’ again interposed George, ‘if you will do nothing in
consideration of our father’s intention, you ought in charity to think
of her distress.’
‘Charity begins at hame, Geordie, and wha kens but I may be brought to
want if I dinna tak care?’
‘I’m sure,’ replied the merchant, sharply, ‘that many a one has who
less deserved it.’
‘How do ye ken what I deserve?’ cried the natural, offended. ‘It’s
speaking ill o’ the understanding o’ Providence, to say I dinna deserve
what it has gi’en me. I’m thinking, Geordie, Providence kens my deserts
muckle better than you.’
Leddy Grippy, who, during this conversation, was sitting at the table,
in all the pomp of her new widow’s weeds, with the big Bible before
her, in which she was trying to read that edifying chapter, the tenth
of Nehemiah, here interposed.
‘Wheesht, wheesht, Watty, and dinna blaspheme,’ said she; ‘and no be
overly condumacious. Ye ken your father was a good man, and nothing but
the dart o’ death prevented him frae making a handsome provision for
a’ his family, forbye you; and no doubt, when ye hae gotten the better
o’ the sore stroke o’ the sudden removal of the golden candlestick o’
his life from among us, ye’ll do every thing in a rational and just
manner.’
‘’Deed I’ll do nae sic things, mother,’ was the reply; ‘I’m mindit to
haud the grip I hae gotten.’
‘But ye’re a Christian, Watty,’ resumed the Leddy, still preserving her
well-put-on mourning equanimity, ‘and it behoves you to reflek, that a’
in your power is gi’en to you but as a steward.’
‘Ye need na tell me that; but wha’s steward am I? Is na the matter a
trust for my bairn? I’m wee Betty Bodle’s steward, and no man shall
upbraid me wi’ being unfaithfu’,’ replied Walter.
‘Aye, aye, Watty, that’s very true in a sense,’ said she, ‘but
whosoever giveth to the poor lendeth to the Lord.’
‘That’s what I canna comprehend; for the Lord has no need to borrow;
he can make a world o’ gold for the poor folk, if he likes, and if he
keeps them in poortith, he has his ain reasons for’t.’
‘Ah, weel I wat!’ exclaimed the Leddy pathetically; ‘noo I fin’ to my
cost, that my cousin, Ringan Gilhaise, the Mauchlin maltster, had the
rights o’t when he plea’t my father’s will, on account of thy concos
montis; and, but for auld pawky Keelevin, he would hae gotten the
property that’s sae ill waur’t on thee.’
All this, however, made no impression; but George, in walking back
to Glasgow, several times thought of what had fallen from his mother
respecting the attempt which had been made to set aside her father’s
settlement, on the score of Walter’s idiocy; and once or twice it
occurred to him that the thing was still not impracticable, and that,
being next heir of entail, and nearest male relative, it might be of
advantage to his own family to get the management of the estate. Thus,
by a conversation intended to benefit the disinherited heirs, the seed
was sown of new plans and proceedings, worthy of the father’s son.
From that period, George took no further interest in the affairs of
his sister-in-law, but his visits became unusually frequent to Grippy,
and he was generally always attended by some friend, whom he led
into conversation with his brother, culated to call forth the least
equivocal disclosures of the state of Walter’s mind.
But whatever were his motives for these visits, and this kind of
conduct, he kept them close within his own breast. No one suspected
him of any sinister design, but many applauded his filial attentions
to his mother; for so his visits were construed, and they were deemed
the more meritorious on account of the state of his own family, his
wife, after the birth of her twin daughters, having fallen into
ill health. Indeed, he was in general contemplated with sentiments
of compassion and respect. Every body had heard of his anxiety, on
the death of his father, to procure some provision for his deceased
brother’s family, and sympathised with the regret which he expressed
at finding Walter so niggardly and intractable; for not a word was
breathed of his incapacity. The increased thoughtfulness and reserve
of his manner which began, we may say, from the conversation quoted,
was in consequence attributed to the effect of his comfortless domestic
situation, and the public sympathy was considerably augmented, when, in
the course of the same year in which his father died, he happened to
lose one of his daughters.
There were, however, among his friends, as there are always about
most men, certain shrewd and invidious characters, and some among
them did not give him credit for so much sensibility as their mutual
acquaintance in common parlance ascribed to him. On the contrary, they
openly condemned his indelicacy, in so often exposing the fooleries of
his brother; and those who had detected the well hidden sordid meanness
of his disposition, wondered that he had so quietly acquiesced in
Walter’s succession. But they had either forgotten, or had never heard
of, the circumstance to which his mother alluded with respect to her
relation, the Mauchlin maltster’s attempt to invalidate her father’s
will, and, of course, were not aware of the address requisite to prove
the incapacity of a man whose situation had been already investigated,
and who, by a solemn adjudication, was declared in the full possession
of all his faculties. Their wonderment was not, however, allowed to
continue long, for an event, which took place within a little more than
three months after the death of his daughter, ended all debates and
controversies on the subject.