“Ye’ll excuse me, sir; I dinna ken ye, but—ye’ll excuse me, sir—but would ye do me the honour of takin’ a snuff out of my box?”
“Certainly, my good friend,” said the doctor; “and we’ll giff-gaff,” handing his box to the tailor, and helping himself out of Kennedy’s dimpled, black-looking, oval-shaped tin box.
The tailor took a pinch, said it was “prime snuff,” and added: “Burns is a great poet, and that was a grand verse you gied us the noo, and the occasion’s worthy o’t. Mr. Barrie ’s an honest man, but he’s far mair, he’s a patriot-martyr.”
The last cartload had left the manse; there was nothing for Mr. and Mrs. Barrie to do but lock the door and follow. They paid a farewell visit to each room. Their footsteps sounded harshly through the house, now empty and dreary, still they were loath to leave. When they were fairly outside of the front door they lingered on its step; then Mr. Barrie, with a quick “This will never do,” locked the door and withdrew the key.
They were bracing themselves for their trying walk past the church, past the churchyard, and through the village, when a noise, a familiar noise, yet with an eerie wail in it, made them both start. It came from old Tibby the cat—Nellie’s Tibby. Bell had carried her to Knowe Park in a basket as carefully as if she had been Nellie herself, and had shut her up in a room. When the children came, James and Mary had got strict orders to watch her; but Tibby had beaten them all and got off, and home and into some quiet corner of the manse, whence, when the door was locked, she crept out, uttering her wailing protest.
“Poor Tibby,” said Mrs. Barrie, “we must take you with us.”
When the door was re-opened, Tibby was easily caught. She had evidently felt convinced, after a bewildered ramble through the empty house, that there was some reason for her late transportation and imprisonment.
This little incident re-opened the floodgates of tender memories, and forced tears from Mrs. Barrie’s eyes, although by that time the fountain had been largely drawn upon. She felt thankful to have something else than herself to think of; and Tibby’s presence in her arm, tucked cosily into the corner of her shawl, served to divide her attention, and supplied sufficient amount of occupation to make the walk less trying to her. She leaned heavily on Mr. Barrie’s arm, partly from weariness, partly from excitement.
THE NEW HOME.
When they reached Knowe Park, Bell had tea set for them in the parlour; and the children, having already made a complete round of the whole premises, gave at the tea-table cheering proofs that they had not lost their appetites, as well as curious details of what they had discovered in their ramblings over their new home.