This morning, however, when she brought up my ante-breakfast cup of tea, she reverted to the subject without any preliminaries. 'Man, Maister Weelum,' she began, 'I've juist been takin' anither look roon' the dinin'-room. Noo, since we've got it done up it's the first thing I do in the mornin' an' the last at nicht; an', do ye know, I feel quite prood an' important when I'm puttin' a nice white cover on the big table, an' the silver candelabra in the centre o't. But, oh man, since yesterday I'm positively he'rt-sorry for thae auld frames. In a mainner it's my pleesure spoiled; to me it's a case o' deid flies in the ointment, ye understaun? Imphm! an' I'm gettin' fair angry at the new yin hangin' oot so prominently an' skinklin' as if to chaw the ithers. Dod, I imagine it's laughin' an' jeerin' at them. Noo, Maister Weelum, twae sixpenny bottles o' John Boyes's gold spread oot thin would amaist do the whole lot, an'—an' I'll put it on mysel'. I'm rale knacky wi' a brush. It'll no' come to much—imphm! the cost'll be very little. What think ye?'
'I don't know, Betty, I'm sure. I'm sorry to know the old frames annoy your eye. Personally I like the old ones better than the new one; but I'll tell you what, Betty,' I said gleefully, as a happy thought struck me; 'we'll get the new frame coated over with some sort of stuff to dull it down a bit. They'll be all alike then. How would that do?'
'It'll no' do at a', Maister Weelum,' she said emphatically. 'That picter maunna be touched. No! no! It has some history, or I'm cheated. Time will prove'——
A sudden loud knocking echoed through the house and cut short her sentence. 'Mercy me, what a bang!' she said. 'That's Milligan the postman, an' as sure as my name's Betty Grier he'll bash through that door some day;' and, to my relief—for she was stumbling into 'kittle' ground—she hurried downstairs.
Since I came here my correspondence has become almost a negligible quantity. I rarely write to any one, and the few letters I receive are of a more or less private business character. I had two this morning—one from the treasurer of my club reminding me my subscription is due at the end of this month, and the other from my partner, Murray Monteith, who, after alluding to minor matters, writes as follows:
'Now for the real reason of my troubling you at this time. The Hon. Mrs Stuart wrote to me yesterday from Nithbank House, near Thornhill, saying she was desirous of consulting me on a very important subject; but owing to indisposition she couldn't travel to Edinburgh, and she would be much obliged if I could make it convenient to call on her at that address any day next week. I wrote to her by return saying I would travel south on Wednesday first, and would be with her during the early afternoon of that day. As you know, I am a stranger to your native county; but I presume Nithbank House is within driving distance of Thornhill, and as I am due at the station of that name at 11.30 A.M., I shall thus have ample time to call on you prior to my visit, and talk over matters with you.
'The important subject she refers to is, without doubt, in connection with the affairs of her brother-in-law, the late General Stuart, which, I regret to say, are still in a most unsatisfactory state, owing to our inability to unearth a will or to procure any information regarding his marriage. We have made exhaustive inquiry in every conceivable direction, but without result; and his daughter, Miss Stuart, must now be acquainted with the facts as they at present stand. She called here on the 17th ult., and asked to see you. Ormskirk informed her that you were at present invalided in the country, and showed her into my room. We talked over matters in a general way, and I think I managed to satisfy her on the main points, without giving her any reason to suspect we were faced with such serious difficulties. But, as I have said, she must be told now, and I approach this part of the business with misgivings, as it is a very delicate matter indeed; and, from the little I have seen of her, I argue she will take it very keenly to heart. For us to inform her, in our cold, unfeeling legal phraseology, that she is, in the eyes of the law, illegitimate would be nothing short of brutal, and I trust we may prevail on her aunt to discharge this unenviable obligation. I assure you I have no desire to trouble you unnecessarily at this time with business concerns; but, as you are in the immediate locality, and are not only acquainted with the parties, but conversant with all the details of this case, I hope you will see your way to accompany me to Nithbank. Miss Stuart informed me that she had transacted business by correspondence only, and that she had not yet met you. Would this not be a good opportunity for us all to meet and decide what ought to be done?'
Needless to say, I shall be delighted to receive Murray Monteith here. We must arrange to have him remain overnight with us, and I shall take peculiar pleasure in introducing him to Betty and Nathan and Dr Grierson, types, I feel sure, which he has never met before, but which I am equally sure he will appreciate. I shall certainly accompany him to Nithbank House; and I must be prepared to have the vials of the Hon. Mrs Stuart's wrath poured out upon me when she learns that for almost six months I have resided within two miles of her, and have not considered it my duty and privilege to call on her. I am very, very sorry to learn from Monteith that things have turned out so unfortunately; but somehow I have dreaded such an outcome all along. And my heart goes out to that poor girl who is likely to lose her patrimony under the inexorable law of succession. But, wait now, let me think. Yes, these four thousand Banku oil shares which her father transferred to her, on her coming of age, are hers, and cannot be contested; so that, after all, if our worst fears regarding the property are realised, she will not be penniless. I wonder if she is a level-headed business girl, and if she knows to what extent she will benefit from this. Banku oils are worth looking after. This will be one cheering subject, at least, which we may broach to her. But, after all, the stigma of illegitimacy remains, and money cannot make up for that. Poor girl!