“And he can’t attend to visitors and make sermons at the same time. That would be to the point at present,” said the Judge, laughing, “I think I’ll be going.”
“’Deed, no, sir,” said Janet, earnestly, “I didna mean you. I’m aye glad to see you or any sensible person to converse with the minister. It cheers him. But this week it’s been worse than ever. He has hardly had an unbroken hour. But sit still, sir. He would be ill-pleased if you went away without seeing him.”
“I’ll speak to papa, Judge Merle,” said Graeme.
“Never mind, my dear. Come and speak to me yourself. I think Mrs Nasmyth is right. The minister ought not to be disturbed. I have nothing particular to say to him. I came because it’s a pleasure to come, and I did not think about its being so near the end of the week.”
Graeme looked rather anxiously from him to Janet.
“My dear, you needna trouble yourself. It’s no’ folk like the Judge and young Mr Greenleaf that will be likely to take umbrage at being kept waiting a wee while here. It’s folk like the ’smith yonder, or Orrin Green, the upsettin’ body. But you can go in now and see if your papa’s at leisure, and tell him the Judge is here.”
“We had Mr Greenleaf here awhile the ither night,” she continued, as Graeme disappeared. “A nice, pleasant spoken gentleman he is, an no’ ae bit o’ a Yankee.”
The Judge opened his eyes. It was rather an equivocal compliment, considering the person to whom she spoke. But he was not one of the kind to take offence, as Janet justly said.