SIR PETER AND LADY DRUM.
Coquette, sitting quietly in the general parlour, the Minister being
busy with his reading, heard voices in the hall, and one of them
startled her. Indeed, she suddenly put her hand to her heart, having
felt a quick flutter, as of pain; and a tinge of colour came to her
pale face. The next moment Leezibeth announced Sir Peter and Lady
Drum, and Lord Earlshope; and these three entered the room.
Sir Peter was a short, stout, rosy-cheeked, and fair-haired man, who
wore a suit of light grey, and had a big diamond ring on his finger.
There was a pleasant expression in his face; a frolicsome look in his
eyes; and his talk, which was as often as not a monologue addressed
to himself, was interrupted by his humming snatches of gay airs,
addressed to the window, or the fireplace, or the picture at which he
chanced to be looking. On this occasion, however, he had duties to
perform; he went briskly forward to shake hands with the Minister; he
was introduced to Coquette; and then, and with some merry little
remark, he led forward his wife to the young girl.
Coquette found herself confronted by a most striking-looking
woman--one who might have sat for a picture of a great lady of the
last century. Lady Drum was a tall, elderly, upright person, with a
keen face which was yet kindly in the severity of its features, and
with a fine head of grey hair, elaborately arranged. Lady Drum was
widely known in the neighbourhood for her inflexible judgments on
people's conduct, her generous but scrupulously calculated aid to all
who were in heed, and her skill in medicine, which she loved to
practise; and it was a popular mystery how this stately and imposing
lady could have married the gay little gentleman who was now her
husband. Yet they agreed remarkably well, and seemed to have a
mutual esteem for each other. She bore with great equanimity his
perpetual jokes, his ceaseless and rambling talk, his irrelevant
tunes and airs; while he was fond to address her as his "jewel," and
declare that she had saved his life twenty times with her physic. Of
all the families in the county the Drums were the only people whom
Lord Earlshope was ever known to visit; and his regard and liking for
the grave and noble-looking lady of Castle Cawmil had even led him to
permit himself to be dosed and doctored upon occasions. Sometimes
they corresponded; and the contents of Lady Drum's letters chiefly
consisted in motherly advice about the use of flannel in spring time,
and the great virtues of some new herb she had discovered. As for
Sir Peter, Earlshope seldom saw him when he visited Castle Cawmil.
Sir Peter was anywhere--everywhere--but in his own house. He flitted
about the country, enjoying himself wherever he went; for the number
of his friends was legion; while Lady Drum attended to her
poultry-yard and her patients at home.
Coquette found fixed upon her a pair of severe and scrutinising eyes;
but there was something in the appearance of the tall, grey-haired
woman which she could not help admiring and even liking. When she
spoke--which she did in a grave and deliberate fashion, with a
considerably marked Scotch accent--her voice had all the softness
which her features lacked.
"I hope you will find Airlie a pleasant place," said Lady Drum, still
retaining Coquette's hand.
"Dull--dull--dull," said Sir Peter, looking out of the window, and
humming to himself. "Very dull--very dull--very dull. Ha, ha! Hm,
hm! Ha, ha!"
"And we shall hope to see you often at Castle Cawmil," continued Lady
Drum.
"I thank you," said Coquette, simply, but making no promise.
Lady Drum at once turned to the Minister.
"Your housekeeper has been telling me that your niece is very much in
want of a change. I can see it. The wet weather has kept her
indoors. She wants to be sent out into the air, with companions and
amusement; and I would even recommend a little tansy or, perhaps,
gentian root. If she were with me for a week or two I might try the
Caribbean cinchona, which has proved an excellent tonic within my own
experience; but as for horse-chestnut bark, which some prefer to use,
I do not hold wi' that in any case. Lord Earlshope will tell ye, Mr.
Cassilis, that the Caribbean cinchona----"
"Did me a world of good," said Lord Earlshope. "Indeed I was quite
ashamed to get well so rapidly, and deprive my amiable physician of
the chance of watching the effects of her cure. In fact, I got so
ridiculously well that I had no occasion to drink any of the
coltsfoot wine that Lady Drum was good enough to send me. Shall I
transfer it to you, Miss Cassilis, when you become one of Lady Drum's
patients?"
"I will take it--if it is nice," said Coquette.
Lady Drum did not like this way of treating the subject, especially
as her husband was moving about the room from place to place, and
humming a series of reflections on physic generally, which interfered
with the dignity of the situation.
"Fine thing, physic--grand thing, physic--hm! hm!--old woman comes
and gets her physic, and sixpence--hm, ha!--drinks the sixpence, and
flings away the physic--with a 'God bless all doctors--if possible.'
Hm, hm! hm, hm! ha, ha! Capital garden that of yours, Mr.
Cassilis--capital--too much like a wilderness, perhaps. Got the old
pony in the stables yet--old Bess with the swallow-tail? Remember
how the Hielandman thought the flicht o' a swallow was like a squint
lum?"
"What is that?" said Earlshope.
"Untranslatable--untranslatable," carolled Sir Peter. "'Bekass it
wass a crookit flue.' More untranslatable still, isn't it? We must
be going, my lady."
But my lady had got into a very confidential chat with Coquette, and
had even aired a few French phrases to show that she had been used to
polite accomplishments in her youth. She had been to Paris, also;
had seen the Place de la Bastille; and considered herself profound in
the history of the capital. Their talk, nevertheless, was chiefly of
Airlie, and of Coquette's experiences there.
"I did like the place better when I came here," said the girl. "Much
better. Yet, it is pretty, you know--when there is sun, and it is
not cold. It is always the same thing at Airlie--the same place, the
same people, the same things to do each day. That is tiresome when
one is indoors in the rain--when one is out in good days there is
variety. If you will let me visit you, I shall be
joyous--joyful--no, I mean I shall be glad to visit you and see you.
And will you come to Airlie often? I have no lady-friend in this
country, you know--only my uncle and the boys--and if you will be so
kind to come and see me, it will be a great pleasure to me."
"But I am an old woman," said Lady Drum. "I should be a poor
companion for you."
"But I have always lived with old people," said Coquette, somewhat
too bluntly; "I do like old people better than young."
Lady Drum was puzzled. Why did this young creature talk so sadly,
and show none of the liveliness and hope natural to her age? Surely,
with her graceful and well-formed figure, her clear dark eyes, and
the healthy red of her lips that were obviously meant to laugh, she
ought to have plenty of spirit and life? Lady Drum had never seen
the true Coquette--the Coquette to whom every day was a holiday, and
every incident in it a glad experience; but she half divined that the
pale, pretty, dark-eyed girl who sat beside her, and who had an ease
of manner which was the perfection of simplicity, was not strung up
to her natural pitch of health and enjoyment. Lady Drum had never
heard Coquette laugh in the open air, or sing to herself in the
garden; but she had a suspicion that the beauty of the girl's face
was paler than it ought to be.
"Quassia!" said Lady Drum suddenly, and Coquette looked startled; but
presently the other said--"No. We must try something else first.
Castle Cawmil would be tiresome just now, with an old woman like me
in it. By and by, my lassie, you must come and see me when I have
got together some young folks; and we shall have half the gentlemen
in Ayrshire fighting for the first quadrille."
"Is there dancing at your house?" said Coquette, with interest.
"Dancing! Yes, as much dancing as young lassocks like you should
have--wha will not be persuaded to take any other sort o' exercise."
"I was told it was evil here," said Coquette, remembering certain of
Leezibeth's orations.
"Evil! evil!" said Lady Drum. "If there was much evil in it, it
wouldna set its foot within my doors. But then, ye see, Miss
Cassilis, this is a minister's house, and a minister must be
discreet--no to give offence, as it were."
She turned to Lord Earlshope, who had been conversing with the
Minister. "Lord Earlshope, do ye mind that you pressed me to make
use of your yacht when occasion suited?"
"Certainly I do," said Earlshope. "She is quite at your
service--always; and just at present she is in capital cruising
order. Do you propose to take Miss Cassilis for a run up some of the
lochs?"
"Indeed, it was the very thing I was thinking of," said Lady Drum.
"Then you have only to drive to Ardrossan any day you choose, and
give Maxwell his sailing orders. He is a steady old fellow, and will
take every care of you."
Coquette listened mutely, with her eyes fixed on the ground. Lord
Earlshope, then, proposed that she and Lady Drum should go by
themselves?--she did not think it very civil.
"I had some notion of asking Mr. Cassilis to form a party and go for
a short cruise, but I dismissed it as chimerical. Perhaps you will
be more successful if you try."
"Now tell me," said Lady Drum, with a business-like air, "how many
you can take on board."
"Why, half the population of Airlie, or thereabouts. But there is
one very grand state-room which you ladies could share between you;
and as for your gentlemen friends, you might ask as many as had been
accustomed to the exigencies of yachts--myself among the number, I
hope. As for Sir Peter----"
"No, no, no!" cried Sir Peter, gaily. "No yachting for me--sleeping
in a hole--washing out of a tea-cup--wet to the skin all day--ha, ha!
hm, hm! ha, ha! No yachting for me--off to Peebles on Tuesday--then
back to Edinburgh the week after--my lady may go if she likes."
"Mr. Cassilis, may we reckon on you?" said Lady Drum, severely
ignoring her husband's volatility. "Your niece demands some change
of the kind; and I have entered into a contract long ago with Lord
Earlshope about the yacht."
"You need not be frightened by what Sir Peter says," observed Lord
Earlshope, with a smile. "On board a sixty-ton yacht you are not put
to such dreadful inconveniences. Shall I add my entreaties to those
of Lady Drum? If you could get away from your duties for a week or
two, it would be a pleasant holiday at this season; and, if you like,
I will go with you for a few days, to see you all comfortably
settled."
There was positively a blush on the pale grey face of the Minister.
The notion of taking a holiday for the mere purpose of pleasure was
quite startling to him--had, in fact, something uncanny about it. If
the proposal, indeed, had not been made in the first instance by Lady
Drum--whose decision as to matters of propriety was law throughout
the district--he would not even have considered it for a moment.
"I cannot give an answer out-of-hand," he said, gravely, and yet with
some hesitation. "Doubtless it is a tempting and a kind offer; but
there are other obligations binding on us than our own wishes----"
"Now, Mr. Cassilis," said Lady Drum, "have you not mentioned to me
that you greatly hoped for some opportunity of giving young Mr.
M'Alister your pulpit for the day--an honour that he has fairly set
his heart on?"
"But I should like to be present to witness his trial," said the
Minister, fighting against himself.
"Ye may trust him--ye may trust him," said Lady Drum, decisively.
"He is as safe as an auld horse with blinders on. No fear o' him
alarming the congregation wi' new doctrine--he hasna spunk enough to
be dangerous."
This somewhat doubtful testimony to the intellectual qualifications
of the young man carried some weight, evidently, and Mr. Cassilis
then turned to his niece.
"Catherine," said he, solemnly, "you have heard Lady Drum's
proposal--would it please you to go?"
"Oh, very much," said Coquette, "if--if my cousin could also go."
The Minister stared: how had the Whaup come to be of such consequence?
"Do you mean my friend Tom?" said Lord Earlshope. "Why, of course he
can go. There is nothing to hinder him."
Coquette was very grateful; and though she did not put her gratitude
into words, there was a brighter look on her face than had been there
for many a day. The Minister said he would consider the matter;
and--if he saw that his duties to his parishioners would not
suffer--he hoped to be able to take his niece on this voyage of
health.
When the visitors had gone, Coquette went outside to look for the
Whaup. She found him in the garden--inclined to resume his attitude
of hostility on account of this appearance of Earlshope at the Manse.
"Tom," she said, "I do wish to speak to you--to ask why you avoid
me--when you were my good companion for a long time. Why should we
quarrel?"
"Quarrel!" said the Whaup--as if he scorned the idea of his bothering
himself to quarrel with anybody--"I haven't quarrelled; I haven't
time to quarrel. But I suppose you are come to be penitent and all
that; and probably you will cry. I don't like to see you cry; so
I'll make friends at once if you like."
"Is that how you do make friends in Scotland?" said Coquette, with a
laugh in her eyes,--"standing a yard off--looking fierce--and
speaking harsh."
"Oh, I will kiss you, if you like," said the Whaup, bluntly, and he
advanced for that purpose.
"No," said Coquette, with the least change of manner--and yet that
delicate alteration in her tone and look protected her as though with
a wall of iron. "I did not ask you. But I have something to say of
very much importance--oh! such great importance! And I wish you to
be kind as you once were--but I am afraid on this day. It is too
cold--too dull. On a clear day you would say yes."
"Don't talk so much, but tell me what it is," said the Whaup. He was
warding off, rudely, the insidious attacks of his too pretty cousin.
"It is proposed we all go with Lord Earlshope's yacht on a long
voyage round the Islands--your papa and Lady Drum, and me, too; and
it depends if you will go that I will go."
"I go!" said the Whaup, with a burst of laughter. "In Earlshope's
yacht! You must be mad!"
"If you do not go, I will not go," said Coquette, simply.
"Perhaps it is better you shouldn't go," said the Whaup.
"Perhaps it is," said Coquette, turning away towards the house.
The Whaup looked after her for a moment; then he followed her.
"Look here--what do you want to go for?" he asked.
"I thought it would be pleasurable--the amusement, the going away
from this place a few days--the whole of us together. But I am not
anxious--I can stay at home."
"Why can't you go without me?" said he.
"I wanted you for a companion," said Coquette, looking down. "There
will be nobody but your papa and Lady Drum--Lord Earlshope only comes
for a day or two, to see us off."
He looked at her downcast face in a scrutinising way--he was not sure
about her.
"You know, I don't believe in you as I did at one time. People who
deceive you once will deceive you again," he said.
She looked up with an angry glance; and bitter tears sprang to her
eyes.
"How can you say that?" she said, indignantly. "You are too
hard--you have no mercy--you expect everyone to be as rude as
yourself. If you do not believe me, it is no matter to me; I can
believe myself--that is enough."
With these words, she was again turning proudly away, when he caught
her by the hand and stopped her.
"You are a very peculiar young woman," he said. "You are always
firing off somehow or other--always very delighted or else very
miserable. Why don't you take things coolly, as I do? I don't say
you're very bad because you went in for little trifling useless bits
of deceit. I suppose every woman does that--it's their nature, and
it's no use grumbling. If you had any sense, you'd dry your eyes,
get something on your head, and come and see us dig up a bees' nest
that I have found."
"Yes, I will do that," she said, adding timidly--"and about the
yacht--I am not to go?"
He looked in her eyes just then; and, oddly enough, that glance
somehow made him aware that he was holding her hand--a little, white
hand, that had a couple of slender rings on one of the fingers. He
dropped the hand at once; was uncomfortable and shy for a moment; and
then said desperately, "Yes, I will go."
There was a flush of colour and gladness passed over the pale face;
and she lifted his hand suddenly and pressed it to her lips. Then
she ran into the house, and presently reappeared with her hat and
some loose white thing that she hurriedly flung round her neck. Her
eyes were so bright and joyous that the Whaup looked at her with
amazement.
In a secret corner the Whaup found his brothers, armed with large
boughs. At once all set out for the moor where the bees' nest had
been discovered; and the Whaup revealed to Coquette that his object
in storming the nest was not merely to secure the little underground
nuts of honey. A deed of vengeance had to be accomplished, and the
captured bees were to aid in the task.
Now, Sir Peter and Lady Drum were returning to Earlshope for
luncheon; but they went out of their way to call at a certain farm,
the dairy-maid there being under her ladyship's treatment. It was
when they had resumed their route, and were driving along the high
moorland road, that they chanced to see in the distance a small
procession of figures, carrying branches of trees.
"Why yonder is Coquette running and laughing!" said Lord Earlshope.
"Running and laughing?" said Lady Drum. "Has that dark-eyed little
witch been cheating me?"