‘I wouldna if I were you,’ said Jean. ‘Oh, Isabel, my bonnie woman! I canna bide to see you have any troke with such folk. And there’s strangers about the parish I’m no fond of. I heard yesterday of a man that spoke to young Mrs. Diarmid of Ardgartan, and gave her an awfu’ fright, and—unless Miss Catherine would take you in her carriage. And you in your deep crape! You canna go and pay visits so early. It wouldna be like you to show so little respect——’
‘You have some reason more than this,’ said Isabel, growing pale in the darkness, and faltering as she spoke, for her heart began to beat and took away her voice.
‘Me! what reason could I have?—but just your good, my lamb!’ said Jean, with nervous volubility; ‘but I’m no for you mixing yourself up with such folk; and I’m no for you walking about the country-side your lane. There’s a heap of Irish about, ay coming with thae weary steamers. You’re no to blame me, Isabel, if I am awfu’ anxious, more anxious in your condition than if you were a bairn of my own——’
‘But I see you have another reason,’ said Isabel; ‘am I such a bairn or such a fool that you will not tell me? But I am going to see Ailie to-morrow, whatever happens; if you like you can come with me yourself.’
‘Na, it’s no my place, as if I were Mrs. Lothian’s equal,’ said Jean, standing irresolute by the table, tracing a pattern on the carpet with her foot. Little Margaret woke at the moment, which was a godsend to her. She had to be patted, and rocked, and sung to, ere she would go to sleep again. Jean escaped under cover of this interposition; but her face was full of care when she brought in the candles, flashing the light in Baby Margaret’s eyes, who immediately opened those dark orbs wide, and made herself very broad awake, and had to be played with for ever so long before she would consent to sleep again. And Isabel was tired, and not to be disturbed with agitating news, and ‘put off her night’s rest.’ Besides, what good would it do to tell her? But Jean’s heart was heavy with thoughts of what might be coming, when she bade her stepdaughter good night.
CHAPTER XXXVI
The next day Isabel was too much occupied with her project of visiting Ailie at Ardnamore to be open to any argument or dissuasion. She put aside her stepmother’s attempts to move her, with soft obstinacy. ‘She was never a friend of yours that you should be so keen about her now,’ said Jean.
‘She was more to me than you think,’ said Isabel; and her stepmother’s amazement was great.
‘She was liker Margret than you; but far, far different from Margret,’ Jean resumed, after a pause; ‘and you but a gay heedless lassie, no thinking of such things.’
‘But I tell you she was more to me than you thought,’ said Isabel.