By the time that imagination rather than reason had worked him into this decision, he arrived at Glasgow; and being resolved to carry his intention into immediate effect, instead of going to the house where he was boarded, at his uncle’s expense, he went to the Leddy’s, partly with the intention of remaining there, but chiefly to remonstrate with her for having spoken of his attachment to Ellen Frazer; having concluded, naturally enough, that it was from her his uncle had received the information.
On entering the parlour he found the old lady seated alone, in her elbow chair, at the fireside. A single slender candle stood at her elbow, on a small claw-foot table; and she was winding the yarn from a pirn, with a hand-reel, carefully counting the turns. Hearing the door open, she looked round, and seeing who it was, said,—
‘Is that thee, Jamie Walkinshaw?—six and thirty—where came ye frae—seven and thirty—at this time o’ night?—eight and thirty—sit ye down—nine and thirty—snuff the candle—forty.’
‘I’ll wait till ye’re done,’ said he, ‘as I wish to tell you something—for I have been out at Kittlestonheugh, where I had some words with my uncle.’
‘No possible!—nine and forty,’—replied the Leddy;—‘what hast been about?—fifty’——
‘He seems to regard me as if I had neither a will nor feelings, neither a head nor a heart.’
‘I hope ye hae baith—five and fifty—but hae ye been condumacious?—seven and—plague tak the laddie, I’m out in my count, and I’ll hae to begin the cut again; so I may set by the reel. What were you saying, Jamie, anent an outcast wi’ your uncle?’
‘He has used me exceedingly ill—ripping up the obligations he has laid me under, and taunting me with my poverty.’
‘And is’t no true that ye’re obligated to him, and that, but for the uncly duty he has fulfilled towards you, ye would this night hae been a bare lad?—gude kens an ye would na hae been as scant o’ cleeding as a salmon in the river.’