“Certainly,” said David, brightening up; “quite richt, certainly; think weel o’er’t, Bell; tak’ time, plenty o’ time to think on’t. I’ll come doun some other nicht afore lang. There’s luck in leisure, as the auld sayin’ is.”
David’s idea of plenty of time was wider than Bell’s. Every night for ten nights she had kept the kitchen, if possible, brighter, and herself “redd up;” she had also looked oftener in the looking-glass (it was an irregular fragment of a larger one stuck on the facing of the window) during that time than she had done for twelve months before, and her cap or “mutch” was something extra even for her. As each evening fell she looked often and wistfully up the Blackbrae Road. After ten days had passed she felt a little nervous, and put herself in Dan’s way, to ask him, after some leading questions, if he had been at Blackbrae lately. She had still to wait other three days as best she could, but at the fortnight’s end
“The braw wooer cam’ doun the lang glen.”
Both were “blate.” Other subjects were tried and skimmed over, but the subject was not broached. Had it not been for a noise in the lobby caused by Mrs. Barrie’s going up-stairs, it might have lain another fortnight or more before any progress had been made; but fearing that she would come into the kitchen after she came down-stairs, David blurted out hurriedly:
“Bell, Bell, have ye been thinkin’ on yon?”
“Yes, yes,” said Bell, with considerable modulation of voice.
“An’ I do most sincerely hope ye’ll say yes,” said David warmly; “I canna see for the life o’ me how ever we can face Mrs. Barrie till it’s a’ settled.”
“SHE GIED HIM HER HAND,” ETC.
Bell had carefully composed what she thought a proper answer, and during the fortnight she had repeated it “a hunder” times to herself; but when it was wanted it would neither come into her head nor to her tongue. She was greatly annoyed, indeed ashamed, at herself for this, but her honest heart and her good sense came to her help, and guided by them she made a far better reply than the one she had hoarded so long and lost so suddenly; for she rose, gave David her hand, and said:
“David, there’s my hand, an’ my heart gang’s wi’t; they’re baith yours,” solemnly looking him straight in the face. He smiled, and then of course she smiled, and turning away her face, for she was blushing crimson, she added: “Eh, sirs, I never wad a thocht—wha ever wad a thocht o’ me being marrit? David, isna the ways o’ Providence strange an’ mysterious?”