When Mrs. Bertram was able to work again, her first employment was to make a small velvet bag for the scheme of nativity; and though her fingers itched to break the seal, she had the firmness to enclose it in two slips of parchment, and put it in the bag aforesaid, and hang it round the neck of the infant.
It was again in the month of November, more than twenty years after the above incident, that a loud rapping was heard at the door of the Gordon Arms at Kippletringan.
"I wish, madam," said the traveller, entering the kitchen, where several neighbours were assembled, "you would give me leave to warm myself here, for the night is very cold."
His appearance, voice, and manner, produced an instantaneous effect in his favour. The landlady installed her guest comfortably by the fireside, and offered what refreshment her house afforded.
"A cup of tea, ma'am, if you will favour me." Mrs. MacCandlish bustled about, and proceeded in her duties with her best grace, explaining that she had a very nice parlour, and everything agreeable for gentlefolks; but it was bespoke to-night for a gentleman and his daughter, that were going to leave this part of the country.
The sound of wheels was now heard, and the postilion entered. "No, they canna' come at no rate, the laird's sae ill."
"But God help them," said the landlady. "The morn's the term--the very last day they can bide in the house--a' things to be roupit."
"Weel, I tell you, Mr. Bertram canna be moved."
"What Mr. Bertram?" said the stranger. "Not Mr. Bertram of Ellangowan, I hope?"
"Just e'en that same, sir; and if ye be a friend o' his, ye've come at a time when he's sair bested."