“It's the graundest thing the Glen's dune yet,” and Jamie took up the strain; “he 's M.A. already, an' some ither letters; ye cudna rin them ower?”
Then Domsie gave John Ross's degrees one by one. “That comes tae five, makin' nae mention o' ither honours; there's thirty-one degrees in the Glen the noo, and John heads the list, if a' micht call a Professor by a laddie's name.”
“Wha hes a better richt?” said the father, with much spirit; “ye laid the foondation o't a', an' he often said that himsel.”
Opinion differed whether David or Domsie looked prouder in kirk that day, but Jamie inclined to Domsie, whom he had detected counting the degrees over again during the chapter.
Four Sundays after David appeared in the kirkyard with such woe upon his face that Drumsheugh could only imagine one reason, and omitted preliminaries.
“Naethin' wrang wi' the Professor, Bogleigh?” and Domsie held his pinch in mid air.
“John wes deein' when this letter left, an' noo he 'ill maybe... be dead an' buried... his mither an' me were ower prood o' him, but ye ken hoo... gude,” and the old man broke down utterly.
They looked helplessly at one another, averting their gaze from the Professors father, and then Drumsheugh took hold of the situation.
“This is no lichtsome, Dauvid, an' the neeburs share yir tribble, but dinna gie up houp and then Drumsheugh read the letter from Australia, while Hillocks and Whinnie, turning their backs on David, sheltered his grief from public view.
“Dear Mr. Ross,—You will have noticed that the last letter from my friend Dr. Ross was written in a feeble hand. He was laid down about three weeks ago with what has turned out to be typhoid fever, and ought not to have seen paper. But we considered the case a mild one, and he was determined to send his usual letter home. Now the disease has taken a bad turn, and he is quite delirious, mentioning his mother and his old schoolmaster by turns, and thinking that he is again in Drumtochty. His colleagues in medicine are consulting twice a day about him, and everything will be done for one we all admire and love. But he is very low, and I think it right to prepare you for what may be bad news.—Believe me, with much respect, yours faithfully,