CHAPTER LXVI

The conversations between the Leddy and her grandchildren were not of

a kind to keep with her. On Monday morning she sent for her son, and,

without explaining to him what had passed, cunningly began to express

her doubts if ever a match would take place between James and Robina;

recommending that the design should be given up, and an attempt made to

conciliate a union between his daughter and her cousin Dirdumwhamle’s

son, by which, as she observed, the gear would still be kept in the

family.

George, however, had many reasons against the match, not only with

respect to the entail, but in consideration of Dirdumwhamle having six

sons by his first marriage, and four by his second, all of whom stood

between his nephew and the succession to his estate. It is, therefore,

almost unnecessary to say, that he had a stronger repugnance to his

mother’s suggestion than if she had proposed a stranger rather than

their relation.

‘But,’ said he, ‘what reason have you to doubt that James and

Robina are not likely to gratify our hopes and wishes? He is a very

well-behaved lad; and though his heart does not appear to lie much

to the business of the counting-house, still he is so desirous,

apparently, to give satisfaction, that I have no doubt in time he will

acquire steadiness and mercantile habits.’

‘It would na be easy to say,’ replied the Leddy, ‘a’ the whys and

wherefores that I hae for my suspection. But, ye ken, if the twa hae na

a right true love and kindness for ane anither, it will be a doure job

to make them happy in the way o’ matrimonial felicity; and, to be plain

wi’ you, Geordie, I would be nane surprised if something had kittled

between Jamie and a Highland lassie, ane Nell Frizel, that bides wi’

the new-light minister o’ Camrachle.’

The Laird had incidentally heard of Ellen, and once or twice, when he

happened to visit his sister-in-law, he had seen her, and was struck

with her beauty. But it had never occurred to him that there was any

attachment between her and his nephew. The moment, however, that the

Leddy mentioned her name, he acknowledged to himself its probability.

‘But do you really think,’ said he anxiously, ‘that there is anything

of the sort between her and him?’

‘Frae a’ that I can hear, learn, and understand,’ replied the Leddy,

‘though it may na be probable-like, yet I fear it’s oure true; for

when he gangs to see his mother, and it’s ay wi’ him as wi’ the

saints,--“O mother dear Jerusalem, when shall I come to thee?”--I am

most creditably informed that the twa do nothing but sauly forth hand

in hand to walk in the green valleys, singing, “Low down in the broom,”

and “Pu’ing lilies both fresh and gay,”--which is as sure a symptom o’

something very like love, as the hen’s cackle is o’ a new-laid egg.’

‘Nevertheless,’ said the Laird, ‘I should have no great apprehensions,

especially when he comes to understand how much it is his interest to

prefer Robina.’

‘That’s a’ true, Geordie; but I hae a misdoot that a’s no right and

sound wi’ her mair than wi’ him; and when we reflek how the mim

maidens nowadays hae delivered themselves up to the little-gude in

the shape and glamour o’ novelles and Thomson’s _Seasons_, we need

be nane surprised to fin’ Miss as headstrong in her obdooracy as the

lovely young Lavinia that your sister Meg learnt to ’cite at the

boarding-school.’

‘It is not likely, however,’ said the Laird, ‘that she has yet fixed

her affections on any one; and a very little attention on the part of

James would soon overcome any prejudice that she may happen to have

formed against him,--for now, when you bring the matter to mind, I do

recollect that I have more than once observed a degree of petulance and

repugnance on her part.’

‘Then I mak no doot,’ exclaimed the old lady, ‘that she is in a begoted

state to another, and it wou’d be wise to watch her. But, first and

foremost, you should sift Jamie’s tender passion--that’s the novelle

name for calf-love; and if it’s within the compass o’ a possibility,

get the swine driven through’t, or it may work us a’ muckle dule, as

his father’s moonlight marriage did to your ain, worthy man!--That was

indeed a sair warning to us a’, and is the because to this day o’ a’

the penance o’ vexation and tribulation that me and you, Geordie, are

sae obligated to dree.’

The admonition was not lost; on the contrary, George, who was a

decisive man of business, at once resolved to ascertain whether there

were indeed any reasonable grounds for his mother’s suspicions.

For this purpose, on returning to the counting-house, he requested

Walkinshaw to come in the evening to Kittlestonheugh, as he had

something particular to say. The look and tone with which the

communication was made convinced James that he could not be mistaken

with respect to the topic intended, which, he conjectured, was

connected with the conversation he had himself held with the Leddy on

the preceding Saturday evening; and it was the more agreeable to him,

as he was anxious to be relieved from the doubts which began to trouble

him regarding the views and motives of his uncle’s partiality. For,

after parting from Ellen, he had, in the course of his walk back to

Glasgow, worked himself up into a determination to quit the place, if

any hope of the suggested marriage with Robina was the tenure by which

he held her father’s favour. His mind, in consequence, as he went

to Kittlestonheugh in the evening, was occupied with many plans and

schemes--the vague and aimless projects which fill the imagination of

youth, when borne forward either by hopes or apprehensions. Indeed,

the event contemplated, though it was still contingent on the spirit

with which his uncle might receive his refusal, he yet, with the common

precipitancy of youth, anticipated as settled, and his reflections were

accordingly framed and modified by that conclusion. To leave Glasgow

was determined; but where to go, and what to do, were points not so

easily arranged; and ever and anon the image of Ellen Frazer rose in

all the radiance of her beauty, like the angel to Balaam, and stood

between him and his purpose.

The doubts, the fears, and the fondness, which alternately predominated

in his bosom, received a secret and sympathetic energy from the

appearance and state of external nature. The weather was cloudy but not

lowering--a strong tempest seemed, however, to be raging at a distance;

and several times he paused and looked back at the enormous masses of

dark and troubled vapour, which were drifting along the whole sweep

of the northern horizon, from Ben Lomond to the Ochils, as if some

awful burning was laying waste the world beyond them; while a long and

splendid stream of hazy sunshine, from behind the Cowal mountains,

brightened the rugged summits of Dumbuck, and, spreading its golden

fires over Dumbarton moor, gilded the brow of Dumgoin, and lighted up

the magnificent vista which opens between them of the dark and distant

Grampians.

The appearance of the city was also in harmony with the general

sublimity of the evening. Her smoky canopy was lowered almost to a

covering--a mist from the river hovered along her skirts and scattered

buildings, but here and there some lofty edifice stood proudly eminent,

and the pinnacles of the steeples glittering like spear-points through

the cloud, suggested to the fancy strange and solemn images of heavenly

guardians, stationed to oppose the adversaries of man.

A scene so wild, so calm, and yet so troubled and darkened, would, at

any time, have heightened the enthusiasm of young Walkinshaw, but the

state of his feelings made him more than ordinarily susceptible to the

eloquence of its various lights and shadows. The uncertainty which

wavered in the prospects of his future life, found a mystical reflex

in the swift and stormy wrack of the carry, that some unfelt wind was

silently urging along the distant horizon. The still and stationary

objects around--the protected city and the everlasting hills, seemed

to bear an assurance, that, however obscured the complexion of his

fortunes might at that moment be, there was still something within

himself that ought not to suffer any change, from the evanescent

circumstances of another’s frown or favour. This confidence in himself,

felt perhaps for the first time that evening, gave a degree of vigour

and decision to the determination which he had formed; and by the time

he had reached the porch of his uncle’s mansion, his step was firm, his

emotions regulated, and a full and manly self-possession had succeeded

to the fluctuating feelings with which he left Glasgow, in so much that

even his countenance seemed to have received some new impress, and to

have lost the softness of youth, and taken more decidedly the cast and

characteristics of manhood.

The Entail; or, The Lairds of Grippy · 第 66 / 102 章