"Then we can have a private marriage."
"We can do nothing of the kind. Do you think that I will consent to my niece being married in a mouse hole? The Bishop is going to marry her, and it is to be a very grand affair. I have influence to bring to the ceremony most of our neighboring nobility, and the military friends of Lord Cramer will be there in force, and their splendid uniforms will make a fine effect. It is the first wedding I have ever had anything to do with. You were married in a little Border village, and none of your kin there;—father and mother and your wife, all gone!" and the Major looked into the far horizon, as if he must see beyond it, while Ian stood still and white at his side. Not a word was spoken. For a few minutes both men surrendered themselves to Memory's divinest anguish. Then the elder returned to their conversation and said—though in a much more subdued manner:
"Tell Marion to choose her six bride'smaids and give them beautiful wedding garments; tell her all I have said, and try to take some interest in the matter. Do, my dear lad, for no man will ever win Heaven by making his earthly home a hell. Be sure and tell Marion that Lord Cramer will be here in three months, and give her a big check to prepare for his coming."
"I promise to tell Marion. I will be as good as my word."
"Just so. But this is a forgetful world, so I'll remind you of your promise once more—and there is the girl's little fortune."
"It is ready for her as soon as she is married. I have not touched a penny of it. It is intact, principal and interest, and, by a little careful investment, much increased."
"You are a good man—a generous man."
"No, no, Uncle. It was just pride, nothing better. She is my child. I preferred to take care of her myself—with my own money."
Then they talked over the amounts to be spent on the marriage, on dress, visitors, the ceremony and traveling expense, and when some decision had been reached the Major was weary. He sighed heavily, and advised Ian to go home and try to be of a kinder and more familiar spirit. "And tell Marion," he said, "Lord Cramer will be in Glasgow in three or four months, and she must have all her 'braws' ready, for he will not hear tell of waiting—no, not for a day."