Death, it is said, rarely enters a house without making himself
familiar to the inmates. Walter’s daughter, a premature child, had from
her birth been always infirm and delicate. In the course of the spring
after her grandfather’s death, she evidently grew worse, and towards
the end of summer it was the opinion of all who saw her that she could
not live long. The tenderness and solicitude of her father knew no
bounds. She was, indeed, the sole object that interested him in life;
he doated over her with the most single and entire affection; and when
she died, he would not believe, nor allow himself to think, she had
expired, but sat by the bedside, preserving silence, and preventing her
from being touched, lest it should awaken her from a slumber which he
fondly imagined was to establish her recovery. No inducement could be
contrived to draw him from his vigilant watch, nor by any persuasion
could permission be obtained to dress her corpse. George, in the
meanwhile, called several times at the house, and took occasion, in
going there one day, to ask the Reverend Doctor Denholm to accompany
him, under the pretext that perhaps he might prevail with Walter to
allow the body to be removed, as it was beginning to grow offensive.
But, when they reached the house, Walter was missing--he had suddenly
and unobserved quitted the room where the corpse lay, and his mother,
availing herself of his absence, was busily preparing for the interment.
They waited some time in expectation of his return, believing he had
only walked into the fields, in consequence of the air of the chamber
having become intolerable; but, after conversing upwards of an hour on
general topics, some anxiety began to be expressed for his appearance,
and his mother grew so alarmed, that servants were dispatched in all
directions in quest of him. They had not, however, proceeded far, when
he was met on the Glasgow road, coming with his niece Mary in his
arms, followed by Leddy Plealands’ maid-servant, loudly remonstrating
with him for carrying off the child, and every now and then making an
attempt to snatch it from his arms.
‘What hae ye been about?’ cried his mother, as she saw him approaching
towards the house. He, however, made no answer; but, carrying the child
into the nursery, he immediately stripped it naked, and dressed her
in the clothes of his own daughter, caressing and pleasing her with
a thousand fond assurances--calling her his third Betty Bodle, and
betraying all the artless delight and satisfaction with which a child
regards a new toy.
Dr. Denholm, happening to be among those who wondered that his brother
had permitted him to succeed his father unmolested, and on seeing this
indisputable proof of idiocy according to the notions of society,
said,--
‘I canna refrain, Mr. George, from telling you that I think it’s no
right to alloo such a fine property as your father left, to be exposed
to wastrie and ruination in the possession of such a haverel. It’s
neither doing justice to the world nor to your ain family; and I redde
you look about you--for wha kens what he may do next?’
Such an admonition, the involuntary incitement of the moment, was not
lost. George had, in fact, been long fishing for something of the kind,
but nothing had occurred to provoke so explicit an opinion of Walter’s
obvious incapacity. He, however, replied cautiously,--
‘Some allowance, Doctor, must be made for the consternation of his
sorrow; and ye should know that it’s a kittle point of law to determine
when a man has or has not his sufficient senses.’
‘’Deed, Dr. Denholm,’ added Lady Grippy, who happened to be
present,--‘what ye say is very true; for I can ne’er abide to think
that Watty’s as he ought to be, since he refus’t to make good his
honest father’s kind intents to the rest o’ the family. Here am I
toiling and moiling frae morning to night for his advantage; and would
ye believe me, Doctor, when I tell you, that he’ll no alloo a black
bawbee for any needful outlay? and I’m obligated to tak frae my ain
jointure money to pay the cost o’ every thing the house stands in need
of.’
‘Not possible!’ said George, with every indication of the sincerest
astonishment.
‘Whether it’s possible, or whether it’s probable, I ken best mysel,’
replied the Leddy;--‘and this I ken likewise, that what I say is the
even-down truth; and nae farther gane than Mononday was eight days,
I paid Deacon Paul, the Glasgow mason, thirteen shillings, a groat,
and a bawbee, for the count o’ his sklater that pointed the skews o’
the house at Martinmas; and though I would supplicate, an it were on
my knees, like Queen Esther, the doure Ahasuerus, that he is, has no
mercy. Indeed, I’ll be nane surprised gin he leaves me to pay a’ the
charge o’ his bairn’s burial, which will be a black shame if he does.’
‘This must not be endured,’ said George, gravely; ‘and I am surprised,
mother, ye never spoke of such treatment before. I cannot sit patient
and hear that ye’re used in such a cruel and unnatural manner.’
‘It would be a blot on your character, Mr. George,’ rejoined the
minister, ‘if ye did. Your brother has been from his youth upward an
evident idiot; and ever since the death of his wife, ony little wit he
had has been daily growing less.’
‘What ye say, Doctor,’ resumed the Leddy, ‘is no to be controverted;
for, poor lad, he certainly fell intil a sore melancholic at that time;
and it’s my conceit he has ne’er rightly got the better o’t; for he
was--hegh, sirs!--he was till that time the kindest o’ a’ my bairns;
but, frae the day and hour that his wife took her departel in childbed,
he has been a changed creature. Ye’ll mind how outstrapolous and
constipated he was at her burial; and it’s wi’ a heavy heart that I
maun say’t, when his kind father, soon after, wanted to mak a will and
testament to keep us a’ right and comfortable, he was just like to burn
the house aboon our heads wi’ his condumacity.’
‘I am well aware of the truth of much that you have said; but it’s a
painful thing for a man to think of taking steps against the capacity
of his brother,’ replied George. ‘For, in the event of not succeeding,
he must suffer great obloquy in the opinion of the world; and you know
that, with respect to Walter, the attempt was once made already.’
‘And every body said,’ cried the Leddy, ‘that, but for the devices of
auld draughty Keelevin, he would hae been proven as mad as a March
hare; and nae doubt, as he kens how he jookit the law afore, he might
be o’ an instrumentality were the thing to gang to a revisidendo. No
that I would like to see my bairn put into bedlam; at the same time,
Dr. Denholm, I would na be doing a Christian and a parent’s part to the
lave o’ my family, an I were to mak a mitigation against it.’
‘I do not think,’ replied George, looking inquiringly at the Reverend
Doctor--‘that when a man is proved incapable of conducting his affairs,
it is necessary to confine him.’
‘O, no; not at all, Mr. George,’ was the unsuspicious minister’s
answer. ‘It would mak no odds to your brother; it would only oblige you
to take the management of the estate.’
‘That,’ replied George, ‘would be far from convenient, for the business
of the counting-house requires my whole attention. Ye can have no
notion, Dr. Denholm, how much this rebellion in America has increased
the anxieties of merchants. At the same time, I would be greatly
wanting in duty and respect towards my mother, were I to allow her
to remain any longer in such an unhappy state, to say nothing of the
manifest injustice of obliging her to lay out her own proper jointure
in repairs and other expenses of the house.’
Little more passed at that time on the subject; but, in the course of
walking back to Glasgow, George was fortified in his intentions by the
conversation of the Doctor--or, what is, perhaps, more correct, he
appeared so doubtful and scrupulous, that the guileless pastor thought
it necessary to argue with him against allowing his delicacy to carry
him too far.