"Mother said so. It is one of her virtues to tell the truth. You know how often she declares she would not lie even to the devil."
"Yes—but was that the truth?"
"It is not right to criticise and question what your mother says, Christina."
In the morning the arrival of a number of men with pails, and brushes, and paint-pots, justified Mrs. Campbell's assertion, and the three women were glad to escape the dirt, noise, and confusion in Traquair House, even for the Argyle Arms in Campbelton. Robert went with them to the boat, and Isabel's pathetic acceptance of what she disliked, and the tears in Christina's eyes made him a little unhappy. He slipped some gold into their hands, as he bid them good-bye, and their silent looks of pleasure at his remembrance, soothed the uncertain sense of some unkindness or unfairness which had troubled him since Christina's rebellious outbreak. He was glad he had gone with them to the boat, and glad that he had given them a parting token of his brotherly care, and he felt that he could now turn cheerfully to his own pressing but delightful affairs.
He was singularly happy in them, and really glad to be rid of all advice and interference. Men who had known him for many years, wondered at his boyish joyfulness. He was a different Robert Campbell, but then it was generally known he was in love, and all the world loves a lover. No one was cruel or malicious enough to warn, or advise, or shadow the glory of his expectations by any doubt of their full accomplishment. The initiated gossiped among themselves, and some said: "Campbell is a fool to be making such a fuss about any woman;" and others spoke of Mrs. Traquair Campbell, and "wondered how the English girl would manage her."
"The poor lassie will be at her mercy," said one old man.
"She will," answered his companion, "for the Traquair Campbells' ways will be dark to a stranger. It takes a Scotchwoman to match a Scotchwoman."
"Yet I have heard that the old lady is a wonder o' good sense and prudence. Her husband was a useless body, but she managed him fine, and was one o' those women that are a crown to their husbands."
The first speaker laughed peculiarly. "Man, David!" he said, "little you ken, if you take King Solomon's ideas of a comfortable wife to live wi'. The women who are a crown to a poor man are generally a crown o' thorns, I'm thinking."
But no doubts or fears troubled Robert Campbell. He thought only of his marvellous fortune in winning a woman so lovely and so good. He was not unmindful of either her intellect or her education, but he did not talk of these excellencies, even to his chief friend Archie St. Claire. He had a feeling that intellect and learning were masculine attributes, and he preferred to dwell entirely on the sweet feminine virtues of his beloved. But this, or that, there was no other woman in the world but Theodora to Robert Campbell, for lovers are selfish creatures, and Lord Beaconsfield says truly: "To a man in love, all other women are uninteresting, if not repulsive."