Sir James laughed at this fine sentence of his; but yet he meant it. And even Miss Barbara agreed that this stranger woman was no doubt at the bottom of the mischief. When Sir James departed, the old lady felt herself nerved to a great exertion. By this time it was winter, and she went out but seldom, the pony-chaise being a cold conveyance. But that night she electrified her household by ordering the "carriage"—the old carriage, never produced but on occasions of great solemnity—for the next day. "Where will ye be going?" Janet asked, open-mouthed, after she had got over the shock of the announcement. But her mistress did not condescend to give her any answer. It was through Agnes, at a later hour, that information descended upon the household. "Sae far as I can make out, she is just going to Lindores to settle a' about thae two marriages," Agnes said in great excitement. "What two marriages? Ye think of nothing but marriages," said Janet. But nevertheless that excellent person was as much excited as any one when the huge vehicle drew up at the door next morning, and stood out in the rain to hear the orders which were given to the coachman. Agnes, seated within in attendance on her mistress, gave her a little nod with her eyelids, as much as to say, Who's in the right now? "To Lindores." "Bless me!" said Janet, "single women are aye so keen on that subject. They would ken better if they had ever had a man o' their ain."
And indeed Miss Barbara's magnificent intention was to make a proposal to Lord Lindores, which must, she could not doubt, make everything smooth. Lord Lindores was a gentleman, and took pains not to show the old lady, to whom the credit of the house of Dalrulzian was so dear, that he did not think the Erskines good enough to mate with his family: which was also a laudable exercise of discretion; for Miss Barbara was very strong in dates, and knew when the earldom of Lindores was founded, and who was the first of the family, as well as the exact period when the Erskines were settled at Dalrulzian. Lord Lindores forbore, partly out of good feeling, partly from alarm, and partly because Miss Barbara's offer was not one to be refused. If it should so happen that he might be compelled to give in, then the settlement upon Edith of Miss Barbara's fortune would make a very distinct difference in the case. He did not intend to give in, but still——The proposal was received with great politeness at least. "There are many things to be taken into consideration," he said. "I had other plans——You will excuse me if I cannot give up my intentions in a moment, because two young people have chosen to fall in love with each other——" "It is what we all have to do, my lord," said Miss Barbara, who was old-fashioned, and gave every man his title. "It is the only thing, in my experience, that it is useless to fight against." Then Lord Lindores made her a fine bow, and declared that this was a most appropriate sentiment from a lady's lips; but a man must be excused if he took a graver view. There was a sharp accent in his voice which not all his politeness could quite disguise. "For my part," Miss Barbara said, "I have just had to swallow my own disappointment, and think nothing of it; for what I had set my heart upon was to wed my nephew John to Nora Barrington, that now it appears, in the arrangements of Providence, is to be your lordship's daughter-in-law, my Lady Rintoul." Lord Lindores jumped up at this as if a knife had been put into him. He could scarcely trust himself to speak. "I can't allow it to be an arrangement of Providence," he cried bitterly, but recovered himself, and forced a smile upon his angry countenance, and assured Miss Barbara that her proposal was most generous. He gave her his arm to the drawing-room, in which Lady Lindores and Edith were sitting, and withdrew, with his face drawn into a certain wolfish expression which his wife was aware meant mischief, but without betraying himself in speech. When he got back to his library, he launched a private anathema at the "old witch" who had taken it upon herself to interfere. But nevertheless, in Lord Lindores' mind there arose the conviction that though he never would consent, yet if he did——why, that Miss Barbara and her proposal were worth making a note of: and he did so accordingly. Miss Barbara, on her part, left the Castle half affronted, half mollified. She was angry that her proposal did not settle everything in a moment; but she was touched by the sweetness of Edith, and a little moved out of her prejudices in respect to Lady Lindores. "She has no foreign accent," she said suddenly, in the midst of the drive, to the astonishment of Agnes—"no more than any of us. And she has none of that sneering way,—my lord yonder, he just cannot contain himself for spite and illwill—but I cannot see it in her. No doubt she's one of them that is everybody's body, and puts on a fine show—but nothing from the heart."
Some time after this another incident, which had no small bearing upon the story of one of these young pairs, occurred at Dalrulzian. Rintoul had never concealed his opposition, but neither had it ever become a subject of personal conflict between John Erskine and himself. He had gone away after his own explanation, for time did not stand still while these events were going on, and even a Guardsman has periods of duty. Shortly after he returned to Lindores, some question about the boundaries of the estates made it expedient that there should be formal communications between the two houses. Rintoul undertook to be the messenger. He had been with his regiment for the last two months, and he had not inquired into local events. He was, therefore, not in the least prepared for the sight that encountered him when he knocked at John Erskine's door. It was opened to him by Rolls, in all the glory of shining "blacks" and snowy neckcloth, as composed, as authoritative, as fully in command of himself and everything about him, as he had ever been. Rintoul, though he was a lord and a soldier and a fine fellow, gave a jump backwards, which scattered the gravel on the path. "Good lord, Rolls!" he cried. It was not an agreeable surprise. He had done his best to forget Rolls, and he had succeeded. To have so many painful associations thus recalled was unpleasant; and the sight of him, so suddenly, without warning, an undeniable shock.
"Ay, my lord, it's just Rolls," said the butler, barring, as it were, his entrance. Rolls regarded the young man with a stern air; and even when Rintoul, recovering himself, began to express pleasure at his return, and great interest in hearing how it was, the face of Rolls remained unmoved. He changed his mind, however, about barring the entrance, and slowly showed Rintoul into the vacant dining-room, which he entered after him, shutting the door.
"I'll easy tell your lordship how I got out," he said; "but there's mair pressing matter in hand. They tell me, my lord, that ye will not yield to have my maister, John Erskine of Dalrulzian, for Lady Edith's man. I would like to hear if that's true."
"It's a curious sort of question to ask," said Rintoul. "I might ask what's that to you, Rolls?"
"Ay, so ye might—it would be just like you, my lord; but I do not think it would be politic in all the circumstances. What for are you opposing it? Ye're to marry Miss Nora, and get your ain will and pleasure. I wish her much joy, poor thing, and strength of mind to bear a' that's before her. What is your lordship's objection to my maister, if I may make so bold as to ask?"
"You are not very complimentary," said Rintoul, growing red.
"No, I'm no' complimentary, my lord; it's no' my line. Will you tell me what's set you against this marriage? for that is what I would like to ken."
Rintoul tried to laugh, though it would have pleased him better to knock his monitor down. "You must see, Rolls, that a thing like this is my own concern," he said.