And by this time her boy-visitor, having succeeded, much to his comfort and disgust, in replacing his wet chaussures by Colin’s dry, warm stockings and monstrous shoes, Mrs. Campbell came back to her seat and lifted her baby again on her knee. The baby was of angelic disposition, and perfectly disposed to make itself comfortable in its cradle, but the usually active mother evidently made it a kind of excuse to herself for her compulsory repose.
“The wife gets easy to her poetry,” said the farmer, with a smile, “which is pleasant enough to hear, though it doesn’t keep the grain from sprouting. You’re fond o’ the hills, you Southland folk? You’ll be from level land yoursel’, I reckon?—where a’ the craps were safe housed afore the weather broke? We have nae particular reason to complain yet, if we could but make sure o’ a week or twa’s dry weather. It’ll be the holidays still with you?”
“Yes,” said young Frankland, slightly disgusted at being so calmly set down as a schoolboy.
“I hear there’s some grand schools in England,” said Mrs. Campbell; “no’ that they’re to compare wi’ Edinburgh, I suppose? Colin, there’s some sherry wine in the press; I think a glass wouldna’ harm the young gentleman after his wetting. He’ll take something any-way, if you would tell Jess. It’s hungry work climbing our hills for a laddie like you—at least if I may reckon by my ain laddies that are aye ready at meal times,” said the farmer’s wife, with a gracious smile that would not have misbecome a duchess. “You’ll be at ane o’ the great schools, I suppose? I aye like to learn what I can when there’s ony opportunity. I would like my Colin to get a’ the advantages, for he’s well worthy o’ a good education, though we’re rather out of the way of it here.”
“I am at Eton,” said the English boy, who could scarcely refrain from a little ridicule at the idea of sharing “a’ the advantages” of that distinguished foundation with a colt like young Colin; “but I should think you would find it too far off to send your son there,” he added, all his good breeding being unable to smother a slight laugh as he looked round the homely apartment, and wondered what “all the fellows” would say to a schoolfellow from Ramore.
“Nae occasion to laugh, young gentleman,” said Colin the elder; “there’s been Lord Chancellors o’ England, and generals o’ a’ the forces, that have come out of houses nae better than this. I am just as ye find me, but I wouldna’ say what might befall our Colin. In this country there’s nae law to bind a man, to the same line o’ life as his fathers. Despise naebody, my man, or you may live to be despised in your turn.”
“I beg your pardon,” said young Frankland, blushing hotly, and feeling Colin’s shoes weigh upon his feet like lead; “I did not intend——”
“No, no,” said Mrs. Campbell, soothingly; “it’s the maister that takes up fancies; but nae doubt Eton is far ower expensive for the like of us, and a bit callant like you may laugh without ony offence. When Colin comes to be a man he’ll make his ain company, or I’m mista’en; but I’ve no wish to pit him amang lords and gentlemen’s sons that would jeer at his homely ways. And they tell me there’s schules in Edinburgh far afore onything that’s kent in England—besides the college,” said the mother, with a little pride; “our Colin’s done with his schuling. Education takes longer wi’ the like of you. After Martinmas he’s gaun in to Glasgow to begin his course.”
To this proud intimation the young visitor listened in silence, not being able to connect the roughshod lad in the boat with a University, whatever might be its form. He addressed himself instead to the scones and butter which Jess the servant, a handsome, powerful woman of five feet eight or so, had set before him on the table. Jess lingered a little, ere she left the room, to pinch the baby’s cheeks, and say, “Bless the lamb! eh, what a guid bairn!” with patriarchal friendly familiarity. Meanwhile the farmer sat down, with a thump which made it creak, upon the large old haircloth sofa which filled up one end of the room.
“I’ve heard there’s a great difference between our colleges and the colleges in England,” said Colin. “Wi’ you they dinna train a lad to onything in particular; wi’ us it’s a’ for a profession,—the kirk, or the law, or physic, as it may be,—a far mair sensible system. I’m no sure it’s just civil, though,” said the farmer, with a quaint mingling of Scotch complacency and Scotch politeness, “to talk to a stranger of naething but the inferiority o’ his ain country. It may be a’ true enough, but there’s pleasanter topics o’ discourse. The Castle’s a bonnie situation? and if you’re fond o’ the water, yachting, and boating, and that kind o’ thing, there’s grand opportunity amang our lochs.”