“But suppose ye might ca’ yon fine house your own, what wad ye say then, lassie?” This inquiry was enforced with a significant poke from the merchant’s elbow.
Jessie looked up in her father’s face, and seeing that it was unusually grave, she replied, “Father, I do not understand what you are aiming at. I am very happy in our house at Marietta, and wish for none better.”
“Ye’re a fule,” said the merchant, angrily. “I tell ye, Jessie, ye’re no better than a fule; and when fortun’ hands oot her han’ to ye, ye’ll no’ gang half–way to tak’ it. Hae ye no’ seen how oft Maister Reginald comes to our store, and hangs aboot it like a tod round a hen–roost?”
“Indeed, father, I have made no such remark; and if Master Reginald did often come to our store, it was for powder, or a knife, or some trifle for Miss Lucy, and not for any other cause.”
“Hoot awa’ wi’ your pouther and knives, ye blind hizzie,” said the merchant; “it was to see and speak wi’ yoursel”, and no’ for any other cause.”
“Father, I am sure you are mistaken; Master Reginald would never so far forget the difference in our rank and condition, and I should be very sorry if he did.”
“What do ye mean, lass, about difference o’ rank and condeetion? Are the Muirs no’ as weel–born as ony lord or duke in the auld kintra? Do ye no’ ken that my mother’s father’s sister was married to Muir of Drumliwhappit, an’ that he was near cousin to the Laird o’ Blagowrie, wha married the sister o’ the Earl o’ Glencairn? Rank and condeetion, indeed! as I tauld ye, just now, ye’re neither mair nor less than a fule, Jessie. Why, the Colonel spak’ wi’ me anent the matter this vera day, an’ said that he’d do what lay in his power to mak a’ smooth an’ comfortable.”
Jessie Muir was now, indeed, surprised; for she had hitherto imagined that the idea of Reginald Brandon having taken a fancy to her, was one of those crotchets which the merchant sometimes took up, and which he would then maintain with all the pertinacious obstinacy of his character; but she knew him to be incapable of a direct untruth, and was therefore overwhelmed with astonishment at the communication last made to her.
We should not faithfully portray Jessie’s character, were we to say that she experienced no secret gratification when she learnt that her hand was sought by one possessed of so many advantages of person and fortune; but we should do her injustice were we not to add, that the sensation endured only for a moment; and then, her heart reverting to Henry Gregson, she thought only of the increased obstacles which would now interfere with their attachment, and she burst into tears.
“Dinna greet, lassie, dinna greet,”[72] said the merchant, surprised and somewhat softened by this unexpected emotion, and he muttered to himself, “There’s no kenning the twists and krankums o’ a woman’s mind! I tell her that she’s courted by a weel–faured young man, wi’ the best prospects in the haill territory, and she taks on to greet like a skelpit wean.”[73]