“We are not in our house yet, and we have no servant,” said Margaret. “Charles is in lodgings, with a very decent person. It was easy enough to get away.”
“Lodgings are awful expensive,” said Mrs. MacColl. “I’m sure when we were in lodgings, Mr. MacColl and me, the Exhibition year, I dare not tell what it cost. You should get into a house of your ain—a doctor is never anything thought of without a house of his ain.”
“I hope you found the information correct?” said Robert Campbell, addressing Edgar. “The woman at Dalmally minded the couple fine. It was the same name as your auld friend yonder,” and he pointed with his thumb over his left shoulder, to denote England, or Arden, or the world in general. “One of the family, perhaps?”
“Yes.”
“Oh! I want to spy into no secrets. Things of this kind are often turning up. They may say what they like against our Scotch law, but it prevents villainy now and then, that’s certain. Were you interested for the man or the leddy, if it’s a fair question? For it all depends upon that.”
“In neither of them,” said Edgar. “It was a third party, whom they had injured, that I cared for. When is—Jeanie’s brother—expected back?”
“He may come either the day or the morn,” said Mrs. MacColl. “I wish he was here, for mother’s very weak. Do you not think she’s weaker since the morning? I thought her looking just wonderful when I saw her first, but at twelve o’clock—What did the doctor think?”
“He canna tell more than the rest of us,” said James Murray’s wife. “She’s going fast—that’s all that can be said.”
And then there was a little pause, and everybody looked sad for the moment. They almost brightened up, however, when some hasty steps were heard overhead, and suspended their knives and forks and listened. Excitement of this kind is hard to support for a stretch. Nature longs for a crisis, even when the crisis is more terrible than their mild sorrow could be supposed to be. When it appeared, however, that nothing was about to happen, and the steps overhead grew still again, they all calmed down and resumed their dinner, which was an alleviation of the tedium.
“She’s made a’ the necessary dispositions?” said James Murray’s wife, interrogatively. “My man is coming by the next steamer. No that there can be very muckle to divide.”