“Weel then, your feyther is sairly heart-hurt anent Allan’s youngest laddie. Last New Year when he went to Glasgow to see Allan, he thought things were far wrang, and he has worried himsel’ on the matter ever since. It is a dreadful thing to say, but the bairn is vera delicate, and his mother isna kind to him. She is a big strong woman, ne’er sick hersel’, and without feeling for a bairn that is never well, and often vera sick. Feyther said his heart was sair for the little fellow, lyin’ wakefu’ lang nights wi’ pain and fear, and naebody in the house carin’. Yesterday feyther hed a letter frae your brither Allan, and he was fu’ o’ grief, and begging feyther to go and see the bairn, and if possible tak’ him to Culraine, and try if we could do anything to help him to health and happiness.”
“Will she let feyther hae him?”
“She’s as uncertain as the wind, but the lad is named James after his grandfeyther, and he’ll ask for him, on that plea.”
“O Mither, get feyther to go at once! I’ll tak’ a’ the trouble o’ the child! Only to think o’ it! Only to think o’ it! A mither no carin’ for her suffering child!”
“She doesna ken what suffering is, hersel’. She ne’er tak’s cold and she doesna see why ither folks 121 should. She is never fearsome, or nervous, she never feels the dark to be full o’ what terrifies her vera soul, and she canna understand her bairn’s terror. She treats him vera much as she treats his brithers, but they are big, rugged lads, that naething hurts or frights. All right for them, but she is slowly killin’ little James, and you couldna mak’ her see it.”
“Feyther ought not to lose an hour.”
“He’ll hae to be vera cautious i’ the matter. Allan’s wife isna easily managed. Proud and strong in her health and youth, she is fairly scounfu’ o’ the weak and sick, but I think your feyther can manage her. I’ll get him awa’ tomorrow, if so be it’s possible.”
Then there was such pressure of the two women brought to bear upon the grandfather’s heart, that he was eager for the morning to come, and before it was yet light he was away to the town, to catch the earliest train to Edinburgh, from which place he could get quick transit to Glasgow.
“Now, Mither, we hae done a’ we can, at the present, for Allan’s little lad,” said Christine. “Do you think feyther will write to us?”
“I’m sure he will not. He wad rayther do a hard day’s work than write a letter. What are you going to do wi’ your day, dearie?”