“What could a man do else?—a sweet young creature like Margaret Leslie crying by his side! I told her, what I suppose she knew very well before, for I never hide my feelings, mother, as you say. And the issue is, she’s mine. However it was done, you will not say but what it was well done. I have been fond of her since ever I can remember.”
“And of twa-three mair,” said Mrs. Glen, “but no a word o’ that, Rob my man. Eh, but I’m weel pleased! That’s what I’ve been thinking of since the very week you came hame. ‘Now if Rob, with all his cleverness, could get that bonnie Miss Margret,’ I said to mysel’. The Lord bless ye, my man! I aye thought you were born to be the lucky one of my family. Is it a’ in her ain disposition, or have the family ony power over it, Rob? Eh, my bonnie man, what a down-sitting! and the bonniest leddy in Fife of her years. You’re a lucky lad, if ever there was one.”
“Let me in, mother; I don’t want to tell this to any ears but yours.”
“Ay, ay, my man, I’ll let you in,” said his mother, standing aside from the door. “Come in and welcome, my lucky lad. Is there anything you would like for your supper? Naething in a’ the house is ower good for such good news. We’ll take a bottle o’ wine out of the press, or maybe ye would like a drap toddy just as well, which is mair wholesome. Come in, come in, my bonnie man. A bonnie lass, and plenty wi’ her; and a real auld family an honor to anybody to be connected with. My word, Rob Glen, you’re a lucky lad! Wha will look down upon you now? Wha will say a word about your opinions? I’ve never upbraided you mysel’; I saw your talents, and felt ye could bide your time. Eh,” cried Mrs. Glen, exultant, “wha will say now but that marriages are made in heaven? And Rob, my bonnie man, when is it to be?”
“We are not so far as that, mother,” he said; “do you think she has the heart to think of marrying, and poor old Sir Ludovic lying on his death-bed? We must wait for all that. I’m too happy in the mean time to think of more. She’s mine; and that is more than I could have hoped.”
“That’s very true, my man: but still something settled would have been a grand stand-by,” said Mrs. Glen, slightly disappointed; “I would have thought now it would have been a great comfort to Sir Ludovic to see his daughter married and settled before he slips away. But the gentry’s ways are not as our ways. I’m doubting you’ll have some trouble with the family, if nothing’s settled afore the auld gentleman dies.”
“I doubt I will, mother,” said Rob; “but whatever trouble I may have, Margaret’s mine, and she will never go back from her word.”
CHAPTER XXII.
At last the time came when old Sir Ludovic’s dozing and drowsiness, his speculations, and the gleam of humor with which they were all accompanied, and which most of those around him thought so inappropriate to his circumstances, came to an end. All his affairs were in order, his will made, though he had not much to leave, and Dr. Burnside (which was a great satisfaction to the family) paid him a daily visit for the last week of his life; so that everything was done decently and in order. Dr. Burnside had not so very much to say to the old man. He had no answer to give to his questions. He bade Sir Ludovic believe. “And so I do,” he said; he could not be got to be frightened; and now that he had got over the shock of it, and into that dreamy slumbrous valley of the shadow, he did not even wish to avoid what was coming. “It is not so bad as one thinks,” he said to old John, his faithful servant, and to the good minister, who was approaching old age too, though not so near as either of these old men. Dr. Burnside was a little disturbed by the smile on his patient’s face, and hoped it did not show any inclination toward levity; but he was glad to hear, having that journey in view, that it was not so bad as one thought. “He is a man of a very steady faith,” the Minister said, and he himself was wise enough to let Sir Ludovic glide away out of the world with that smile upon his face.
As for Jean and Grace, they did their best to disturb their father and to unsettle him, and insinuated that Dr. Burnside’s instructions were of an unsatisfactory kind. Even Bell held it unorthodox that, except in cases of religious triumph and ecstasy, which no doubt were on record, a human creature should leave this earth smiling, to appear in the presence of his Maker, as she said. Mrs. Bellingham did all she could to question her father on the subject, but was not successful. “Leave him in peace,” his son said; but neither was Mr. Leslie satisfied. It was very strange to them all. The old man did not even seem to feel that anxiety for Margaret’s future which they expected, and never made that solemn appeal to them to take care of her, to which both the sisters were prepared to respond, and which even Ludovic expected, though he felt that, with such a large family of his own, nothing much could be looked for from him. But Sir Ludovic made no appeal. He said “My little Peggy,” when all other words had failed him; and on the very last day of his life a gleam as of laughter crossed his face, and he shook his head faintly at her when she said “me” instead of “I,” and thus faded quite gently and pleasantly away.