Charles was in the practice of accompanying her in the evenings when she commonly performed her disagreeable errands, and relieved her of the burden of her band-box, joyfully counting how much of the probationary year was already past, and cheering her with the assurance that her misfortunes had only endeared her to him the more. It happened, however, that, one Saturday, being late of reaching the place of rendezvous—the foot of the staircase which led to Miss Mally’s dwelling—Isabella had gone away before he arrived, with a new dress to Mrs. Jarvie, the wife of the far-famed Bailie Nicol, the same Matty who lighted the worthy magistrate to the Tolbooth, on that memorable night when he, the son of the deacon, found his kinsman Rob Roy there.

Matty at this time was a full-blown lady; the simple, modest, bare-footed lassie, having developed into a crimson, gorgeous, high-heeled madam,—well aware of the augmented width and weight of the bailie’s purse, and jealous a little too much of her own consequence, perhaps, by recollecting the condition from which she had been exalted. The dress made up for her was a costly negligée; it not only contained several yards of the richest brocade more than any other Miss Mally Trimmings had ever made, but was adorned with cuffs and flounces in a style of such affluent magnificence, that we question if any grander has since been seen in Glasgow. Nor was it ordered for any common occasion, but to grace a formal dinner party, which Provost Anderson and his lady intended to give the magistrates and their wives at the conclusion of his eighth provostry. It was therefore not extraordinary that Mrs. Jarvie should take particular interest in this dress; but the moment she began to try it on, poor Isabella discovered that it would not fit, and stood trembling from head to heel, while the bailie’s wife, in great glee and good humour with the splendour of the dress, was loud in her praises of the cut of the ruffle-cuffs and the folds of the flounces. Having contemplated the flow of the negligée on both sides, and taken two or three stately steps across the room, to see how it would sweep behind, Mrs. Jarvie took the wings of the body in her hands, and, drawing them together, found they would not nearly meet.

Isabella, with a beating heart and a diffident hand, approached to smooth the silk, that it might expand; but all would not do. Mrs. Jarvie stood a monument of consternation, as silent as Lot’s wife, when she looked back, and thought of the charming dresses she had left behind.

‘O Chrystal!’ were the first words to which the ci-devant Matty could give utterance. ‘O Chrystal! My God, is nae this moving? Your mistress, doited devil, as I maun ca’ her, ought to be skelpit wi’ nettles for this calamity. The goun’s ruin’t—my gude silk to be clippit in this nearbegaun way—past a’ redemption. Gang out o’ the gait, ye cutty, and no finger and meddle wi’ me. This usage is enough to provoke the elect! as am a living soul, and that’s a muckle word for me to say, I’ll hae the old craighling scoot afore the Lords. The first cost was mair than five and twenty guineas. If there’s law and justice atween God and man, she shall pay for’t, or I’ll hae my satisfaction on her flesh. Hither, maiden, and help me off wi’ it. Siccan beauty as it was! Tak it wi’ you; tak it to you; out o’ the house and my presence. How durst ye dare to bring sic a disgrace to me? But let me look at it. Is’t no possible to put in a gushet or a gore, and to make an eik?’

‘I’ll take it home and try,’ said Isabella, timidly folding up the gown, which she had removed from Mrs. Jarvie.

‘Try,’ said the bailie’s wife, relapsing; ‘a pretty like story, that sic a gown should stand in the jeopardy o’ a try; but how could Miss Mally presume to send a silly thing like t’ee on this occasion? Lay down the gown this precious moment, and gae hame, and order her to come to me direkilty: it’s no to seek what I hae to say.’

The trembling and terrified girl let the unfortunate negligée fall, and hastily, in tears, quitted the room, and, flying from the house, met, in the street, her lover, who, having learnt where she was, had followed her to the house. A rapid and agitated disclosure of her feelings and situation followed. Charles, on the spot, resolved, at all hazards, rather to make her his wife at once, and to face the worst that might in consequence happen from his father’s displeasure, than allow her to remain exposed to such contumelious treatment. Accordingly, it was agreed that they should be married, and on the Monday following, the ceremony was performed, when he conducted her to a lodging which he had provided in the interval.

CHAPTER XVI

On the morning after his marriage, Charles was anxious, doubtful, and diffident. His original intention was to go at once to his father, to state what he had done, and to persuade him, if possible, to overlook a step, that, from its suddenness, might be deemed rash, but, from the source and motives from which it proceeded, could, he thought, be regarded only as praiseworthy. Still, though this was his own opinion, he, nevertheless, had some idea that the old gentleman would not view it exactly in the same light; and the feeling which this doubt awakened made him hesitate at first, and finally to seek a mediator.

He had long remarked, that ‘the leddy,’ his grandmother, sustained a part of great dignity towards his father; and he concluded, from the effect it appeared to produce, that her superiority was fully acknowledged. Under this delusion, after some consideration of the bearings and peculiarities of his case, he determined to try her interference, and, for that purpose, instead of going to Grippy, as he had originally intended, when he left Isabella, he proceeded to the house of the old lady, where he found her at home and alone.