“Eh! Lettie’s a head higher than me!” exclaimed Katie Calder in amazement.
“Are you gaun to be married upon yon birkie now, if ane might speer?” asked the feeble Dragon. “I’ve lived about this house sixty year, but there hasna been a wedding a’ that time; and now how I’m to do wi’ young wives and weans I canna tell. The last Allenders had a wife ance, folk say, but I never mind of her. He was ninety year auld when he died, and lived a widow three score years and five. I’m eighty mysel, and I never was married. It’s aye best to get ower the like o’ that when folk’s young; but you’re just a lassie yet; you should wait awhile, and be sicker; and yon birkie has nae reverence for the constitution. I’m an awfu’ guid hand for judging a man, and I ken as muckle by what he said about the windows.”
“Eh, Rose, is’t Mr. Charteris that’s the birkie?” cried Violet, with extreme interest.
But Rose had risen from the grass, and now leaned upon the walnut tree, vainly trying to look serious and indifferent. This face which had been eluding her dreams so long, looked in gravely now upon her heart; and Rose trembled and blushed, and could not speak, but had a strong inclination to run away somewhere under cover of the leaves, and weep a few tears out of her dazzled eyes, and soothe her heart into calmer beating. The old man chuckled once more in childish exultation.
“I’ll no tell—ye may trust me—and if ye’ll come in ower, I’ll let you see the white rose bush that garred yon birkie name ye to me. Whaur are ye for, you little anes? is’t the boat the bairns want? I’m saying!—I’ll no hae ony o’ you drowning yoursels in the water; and I gie you fair warning, if you should fa’ in twenty times in a day, I’m no gaun to risk life and limb getting ye out again—it doesna stand to reason that a wean’s life should be as valuable to this witless world as the life of an aged man. And I’ve had muckle experience in my day—muckle experience, Miss Rose; and aye glad to communicate, as the Apostle bids, and ready to give counsel, wi’ nae mair pride than if I had seen but ae score o’ years instead of four. It’s a great age.”
“And do they call you Dragon,” asked Violet, shyly.
“That’s what they ca’ me; for I’ve lang keepit Allenders, and been a carefu’ man of a’ in it, from the master himsel to the berry bushes; but my right name is Edom Comrie, if onybody likes to be so civil as ca’ me that. I’m saying, wee Missie, do ye think I could carry ye? but I’m no so strong as I was forty year ago.”
“You could carry little Harry; but I can rin, and so can Katie Calder,” said Violet.
“Wha’s Katie Calder?”
“It’s me,” answered the little stranger; “and I’m Lettie Muir’s third cousin; and I’m to stay at Allenders, and no to go back to Miss Jean any more.”