“Ye hear her? That’s a woman’s consolation,” said the minister, with a short laugh, in which it need not be said he was extremely unjust.
“It’s sound sense, anyway,” said Mr. Morrison, “so far as this fable of yours is concerned. Are you satisfied now? Well, now that we’ve got clear of that, I’ll tell you my news. The Scotch property—as they call it, those two—has come out fine from all its troubles. What with good investments and feus, and a variety of favourable circumstances, for which credit to whom credit is due—I am not the person to speak—John Anderson’s estate has nearly doubled itself since the good man was taken away. He was just a simpleton in his neglect of all his chances, saying, as he did—you must have heard him many a day—‘there will aye be enough to serve my time.’ I am not saying it was wonderful—seeing the laddie was all but a stranger—but he thought very, very little of his heir. But you see it has been my business to see to the advantage of his heir.”
“Your behaviour to-day is not very like it, Morrison.”
“Hoots!” said the man of business, “that’s nothing but your nonsense. I can give myself the credit for never having neglected a real honest opening. To rob or to fleece a neighbour was not in that line. I am telling you I’ve neglected no real opening, and I will not say but that the result is worth the trouble, and Frank Mowbray is a lucky lad. And what has brought me here to-day—for I knew nothing of all this nonsense of yours that has taken up our time—was just to ask your advice if certain expedients were lawful for covering up this daft mother’s shortcomings—certain expedients which I have been turning over in my head.”
“What is lawful I am little judge of,” said the minister, mournfully. “I have shown you how very little I am to be trusted even for what is right.”
“Toots!” was the impatient reply. “I am not meaning the law of Scotland. If I do not know that, the more shame to me.” It is another law I am thinking of. When I’m in with the King in the house of Rimmon, and him leaning on my shoulder, and the King bows down in the house of Rimmon, and me to be neighbourlike I bow with him, is this permitted to thy servant? You mind the text? That’s what I’ve come to ask. There may be an intent to deceive that has no ill motive, and there may be things that the rigid would call lies. I’ve no respect for her to speak of, but she’s a woman: and if a man could shield a creature like that——”
“I’m thinking,” said Mrs. Buchanan, “now that your own business is over, Claude, and Mr. Morrison with his business to talk to you about, you will want me no longer. Are you really as sure as you say, Mr. Morrison, about the siller? You would not deceive him and me? It is not a lee as you say, with the best of motives? for that I could not bide any more than the minister. Give me your word before I go away.”
“It is God’s truth,” said the lawyer, taking her hand. “As sure as death, which is a solemn word, though it’s in every callant’s mouth.”
“Then I take it as such,” she said, grasping his hand. “And, Claude, ye have no more need of me.”
But what the further discussion was between the two men, which Mrs. Buchanan was so high-minded as not to wait to hear, I can tell no more than she did. They had a long consultation; and when the lawyer took his leave, Mr. Buchanan, with a strong step as if nothing had ever ailed him, not only conducted him to the door but went out with him, walking briskly up the street with a head as high as any man’s; which perhaps was the consequence of his release, by Morrison’s energetic refusal, from the burden which he had bound on his shoulders and hugged to his bosom for so long; and certainly was the happy result of having his thoughts directed towards another’s troubles, and thus finally diverted from his own.