Robert turned laughingly to the group of eager people importuning him for an introduction to the beautiful débutante. “Time forbids my introducing ye individually to Miss Campbell,” he said good-naturedly, “therefore let me present ye collectively to Highland Mary, my future wife, whom ye have all read of an’ loved in my poems.” A ripple of applause greeted the news, and congratulations poured in upon them, both hearty and sincere.
Lady Glencairn staggered slightly, her face paling, but she quickly recovered and stood haughtily erect, fanning herself a little more rapidly, her full red lips tightened to a thin malicious line.
Eppy rushed up to Mary effusively. “May I kiss you, dear?” she asked gushingly, “you are so sweet and pretty, just like I was a few years ago,” and she kissed the blushing girl with a resounding smack. “You’ll be married in Edinburgh, I presume?” she continued volubly. “I must attend the wedding.”
“The marriage will be most private, madam,” observed Robert coldly.
“Do you stay long in Edinburgh, Miss Campbell?” asked Lady Glencairn abruptly, forcing a smile to her lips.
“No, not long, your ladyship,” replied Mary timidly. The cold metallic tones of the haughty lady frightened her strangely. “I—I ne’er thought I’d e’er come to Edinburgh,” she said, “but——” She hesitated and looked shyly at Robert, and then looked modestly down at the bit of cobweb lace which she held in her hand and which did duty as a ’kerchief.
“But I found the barrier between us was down, that I was free as ever to wed the sweetheart of my boyhood days,” he explained with simple dignity.
“Aye, but you make a bonnie couple,” exclaimed Mrs. Dunlop admiringly. “Well, I don’t blame anyone for falling in love with you, Robert,” she declared frankly. “You’re a great man,” and she nodded her head vigorously. “And a handsome one, too.”
Robert blushed and shook his finger in warning at his old friend, although a tender smile played around his eyes and mouth. “Mrs. Dunlop, men are said to flatter women because they are weak,” he said, “but if it is so, poets must be weaker still, for the artful compliments I have received from your sex have absolutely turned my head, an’ really I begin to look on myself as a person of no small importance,” and he roguishly winked his eye at his old friend.
“I never knew a man yet who was averse to flattery,” retorted the old lady good-naturedly.