But although Leddy Grippy certainly did like a bustle with all her heart and spirit, she had still that infirmity which ever belongs to human nature gifted with similar propensities,—namely, a throbbing apprehension at the idea of it, such as mankind in general suffer in the prospect of enjoying pleasure; and the expression of this feeling with her took commonly the form and language of repugnance and reluctance, yea sometimes it even amounted to refusal.
‘What say ye?’ cried she to Walter, under a strong impression of it at the moment,—‘are ye utterly bereav’t o’ your senses, to speak o’ bringing the lade o’ another family on my hands?’
‘I’m sure,’ was his answer, ‘if ye dinna like to tak the pleasure o’t, ye’re free to set up your jointure house, and live the life o’ dowager duchess, for me, mother. But Bell Fatherlans and her bairns are to come here,—for this is my house, ye ken—settlet on me and mine, past a’ power o’ law, by my father—and what’s my ain I’ll mak my ain.’
‘Wha would hae thought o’ sic outcoming o’ kindness as this!’ replied the Leddy. ‘I fancy, Bell, ye’ll hae to come and resident wi’ us?’
‘An she does na,’ said Walter, ‘I’ll gang away where never one kent me, and tak her wee Mary on my back in a basket, like Jenny Nettles—that’s what I will; so put the matter to your knee and straight it.’
‘I’ll mak a bargain, Mr. Walter,’ replied Mrs. Charles,—‘I’ll leave Mary to-night, and come, after the burial to-morrow, with James, and stay a few days.’
‘Ye’ll stay a’ your days,’ exclaimed Walter; ‘and as ye’re a leddy o’ mair genteelity than my mother, ye shall hae the full rule and power o’ the house, and mak jam and jelly;—a’ the cast o’ her grace and skill gangs nae farther than butter and cheese.’
His mother was confounded, and unable for some time to utter a word. At last, putting her hands firmly into her sides, she said,—
‘My word, but thou’s no blate. But it’s no worth my while to gang intil a passion for a born idiot. Your reign, my lad, ’s no ordaint to be lang, if there’s either law or gospel among the Fifteen at Embro’. To misliken his mother! to misuse me as I were nae better than an auld bachle, and, in a manner, to turn me out the house!’
‘O don’t disturb yourself,’ interposed Mrs. Charles; ‘they were but words of course. You know his humour, and need not be surprised at what he says.’