“Isaac, if you have nothing to tell us but about Uncle Henry and Mrs. Eadie say so at once.”
Mrs. Joscelyn rose from her chair. She left her eternal mending on her seat, and came forward holding her hands together as was her wont.
“What is it, Joan?” she said, with an appeal to her daughter’s understanding; she had begun not to trust to her own.
“That’s just what I’m waiting to hear. It’s about Harry; he’s been at Wyburgh, of course, on his way to ——. To be sure, mother, you know that.”
“They were terrible glad to see him,” said Isaac. “I said you would be sure to ken, but Mrs. Eadie she thought no, so she would engage me to come. Go over as soon as you get back, Isaac, she said to me, the mistress and Miss Joan will be real glad to hear.”
“So we are, Isaac. Say away like a man, anything you can tell us we’ll be glad to hear; he’s not a good letter-writer, my brother Harry; we like to hear all we can. He got there safe and well?”
“I gave him a dael of advice the night before,” said Isaac, “young lads is aye wanting something—again’ asking a penny from t’auld maister. Mr. Harry makes a fool o’ me, leddies; he’s just one o’ the lads I canno’ resist. There’s naething I would not do for him. I flew in the face o’ my missis, and even o’ my ain convictions, which are mair than ony woman’s, to follow him to the ‘Red Lion’ the night afore. No, it’s not a place that I frequent, far from that, no man can be more strong again’ it, let alone the missis; but I risked a dael of disgrace to gang after him there, to say to him—Ye’ll no’ think the worse of me, nor the mistress will no’ think the worse of me, that I spoke my mind.”
“And is he with Uncle Henry now, or has he—gone on?”
“To say to him, ‘Hev patience,’ that was all I said, ‘Hev patience, and ye’ll get every penny.’ I hev a conviction he’ll get every penny. It’s a nice little bit of money, and the land’s no’ such ill land about Burnswark if he were to build a new house. The auld wan we’re in is gude for naething, but Burnswark would be no’ bad for a sma’ property if he were to build a new house; and he’s naething to do but to hev patience—and never to bother t’auld maister in his lifetime, that was what I said.”
“You were always a sensible person, Isaac; my uncle’s much obliged to you for taking such care of him. But I hope my brother Harry did not want it. Is he still at Wyburgh, or has he—gone on? Tell us, for you see my mother’s anxious. We have got no letter.”