'And—and what is the lady like?' I asked, with as much indifference as I could command.
'Weel, Maister Weelum, I juist canna exactly tell ye. She's yin o' the few folks ye meet in a lifetime that ye canna judge o' or scrutinise bit by bit. It's impossible to do that wi' her; you've to tak' her in a' at aince, as it were; ye ken what I mean—eh?'
I did, and I didn't; but I nodded as if I understood.
'What struck me mair than ocht else,' she continued, 'was her couthie, affable mainner. To look at her ye wad think that she's a' drawn thegether—prood-like, ye ken, wi' an almichty set apairt kind o' an air; but whenever she speaks an' looks at ye, ye've the feelin' that she's a' roon aboot ye, an' that there's only her an' you in the whole world. An' she was so composed an' calm, so weel-bred withoot bein' uppish! Oh, I tell ye she juist talked away to Mrs Jardine an' me as if we were o' her ain kind. An' when she rose up to gang away, an' was staunin' her full heicht lookin' doon on us, do you know, Maister Weelum, she seemed to me to be kind o' glorified, an' the kitchen an' a' its plenishin's faded frae my sicht, an' a' I was conscious o' was the kindly glent o' twae big dark een an' the feelin' that I was in the presence o' some yin by-ordinar'—imphm! An' efter she had gane I couldna carry on a wiselike conversation wi' Mrs Jardine for listenin' to the whispered words in my ear, "That's the yin! That's the wife for Maister Weelum."'
Since the forenights began to lengthen the doctor has got into the way of dropping in and smoking a quiet, meditative pipe with me over the chess-board. When he called to-night I drew out the little table with the squared top, and we settled down to our game. But my mind was not concerned with bishops, pawns, and knights, and my thoughts kept careering between Hastie's gate and Mrs Jardine's kitchen. I made an effort to centre my interest, and to look the part of the keen, zealous player; but, unfortunately, I cannot dissemble. I lost two pawns very stupidly, and the doctor looked keenly at me, but said nothing. I blundered on, and at last I made a move which caused the doctor to smile. He got up, relit his pipe, and sank into an easy-chair. 'Ah, William,' he said, 'Love is a tyrant! Heart claimed, thoughts claimed, all dancing attendance on the enslaver.'
I blushed, and made a show of riping my pipe into the coal-scuttle to hide my confusion. Then I told him of the meeting on the Carronbrig road, and of Betty's experience in Mrs Jardine's kitchen.
'The plot thickens, William,' he said as he rose to go; 'and if I were you I would tell her of your dream next time you meet her. It will interest her in you; and, you know, once interest is aroused—well, love will follow. Good-night.'
My picture has arrived, and I have got it hung in a favourable light, in a place of honour above the mantelpiece. I became quite excited when it was delivered, and, like a child with a new toy, was impatient to see it, and to gloat over it. But the lid of the wooden case was tightly screwed down; and, as a hammer and a saw were the only joinery tools which Betty possessed, I had to call in Deacon Webster's aid, and Betty, poor body, got no peace till he arrived with his screwdriver. When at length the picture was taken out of its packing I noticed there was no signature in the corner, and this at the time was a keen disappointment to me; but it has ceased to trouble me now, because I have the feeling that it will shortly bear the artist's name, and till that time comes, when I am not admiring her handiwork, I shall just entertain myself filling the corner space with names which appeal to my mind as fitting and appropriate.
When I asked Nathan's opinion of my purchase, he looked several times very deliberately from me to the picture; then, after a pause, informed me he had 'never till noo seen purple gress.' I explained to him that this was the purple sunset glow; but he shook his head sceptically, spat in my fire, and walked slowly ben into the kitchen. Betty, who spent her early girlhood in the Keir, is delighted that a picture in which her native parish hills are depicted should be hanging on her walls, and she was very anxious to know who the painter was, and how it came into my possession. I just said I was very much interested in the artist, and that the picture had been sent from Edinburgh. She pointed out to me, what I hadn't noticed before, that the bright richness of the gold frame made the others shabby and tarnished-looking, and she warmly advocated the application of a liquid gold paint which John Boyes retails at sixpence a bottle, and which, she assures me, 'is liker pure gold than a sovereign.' Betty dearly loves to dabble in paint. It was Nathan who acquainted me with this predilection, and he instanced a case of her blue-enamelling the long hazel crook, the representative staff of the Ancient Order of Shepherds, which on gala-days he carries in the procession; and another, when she varnished, with a strange concoction, a workbox which she has never been able to open since. Knowing this, I purposely belittled Boyes's liquid, and assured her that in a week or two our eyes would become so accustomed to the conditions that we shouldn't distinguish any difference between the frames. It grieves me very much to thwart Betty; though, truth to tell, I seldom have occasion to do so, as our opinions on the big things of life, the essentials, are rarely in conflict, and the smaller we think not worth wrangling over; so I talked her into a gracious, amenable humour, and ultimately took leave of the subject in what I considered mutual agreement.