'My life will be a lonely journey, if it is not to be shared by you, for you have been to me the symbol of all that is good and holy; but if you find it is not I who can make you happy, at least my prayer shall ever be for a blessing on whatever choice you make.
'Yours utterly,'
'(Signed) RODERICK BROWN.'
CHAPTER XVIII.
[THE DELIVERY OF A LETTER].
It was the next day that Joseph Smiley set out to deliver the minister's letter. His instructions were to give it into the hands of Miss Sangster herself, if possible, or at least to make sure that it went direct to her, and to ask if there was any answer. This was a mission very much to Joseph's taste. Being a man of diplomatic genius, he loved to attain his purposes by a circuitous path, and to go round a corner rather than walk straight up to his object.
There was once a minister of the Free Church, of whom a brother divine declared in the bitterness of his soul,--for he had just been circumvented in a cherished scheme,--that he never tied his shoe without having some ulterior motive. If beadles may, without irreverence, be compared with ministers--the very small with the extremely great--Joseph's idiosyncracy was of a like kind. It was well known that Mrs. Sangster's was an all-pervading presence at Auchlippie; the very cat must drink her milk in the appointed time and place, or the mistress would know why; and all comers and goers and their business were bound to come within her ken. The house, the dairy, the poultry-yard, these were her domain, but fortunately they were also its limit. Queen irresponsible in these, her writ would not run in the adjoining stable and farm-yard. The master had settled that long ago. Good-natured and submissive in the house, he tolerated no petticoat influence beyond its limits; and the mistress, after one or two defeats in the attempt to extend her sway, had yielded long ago to the insuperable, and dwelt at peace in her own kingdom.
As Joseph neared Auchlippie, therefore, he crossed a field or two and made a circuit, so as to approach it from the rear, with the farm-yard to shelter him while he reconnoitred, and to retreat into in case he was seen. He likewise carried under his arm his bag of tools, so that if, later, the lady should come upon him, his errand might appear manifest enough. There was always shelving to be put up or taken down, doors that would not close, locks that would not open, and Joseph was the man to see to it all. The work was well enough, indeed Joseph preferred 'orra jobs,' as he called them, to steady work. The variety amused him, and the sight of new faces, besides gossip, drams, and sometimes a share of the kitchen dinner were among the recommendations; but the pay at Auchlippie was not altogether satisfactory. Mrs. Sangster preferred paying in kind to disbursing her silver. Joseph would return home at night with an armful of old clothes, serviceable enough, perhaps, but with the drawback attending them, that he could never tell when his accounts were to be considered square. The next time he did an 'orra job' at Auchlippie, he would be reminded of the load of things he had carried away last time, and given to understand that the present 'job' was to be looked upon as in part working out the previous haul.
For these reasons Joseph was not disposed to obtrude his services. He now went quietly into the stable yard, and fell into chat with the lad who was rubbing up the gig in which his master would shortly start for a neighbouring market. He kept his eyes well open, and it was not long before he descried a petticoat in the distance. It was certainly not Sophia. A second look showed it to be Jean Macaulay, the kitchen-maid, returning from the garden with a basketful of green stuff, and Jean, he bethought him, was a very particular friend of his own, and he might do a trifle of business for himself as well as fulfil his commission.
He vaulted lightly over a gate, and with three or four skips intercepted Jean, just where the blind wall of the dairy intercepted all view from the house.