We now pass over a period of six years, during which nothing of importance occurred—save that those who, at the commencement of this period, had been mere infants, were now boys and girls; those who had been boys and girls, were now men and women; and of those who had then been men and women, many were now in their graves. Nor of those who remained had a single individual escaped, without having undergone some change. In some, the gaiety of youth had been exchanged for the thoughtful expression of maturer years; upon the foreheads of others, grey hairs were seen where glossy ringlets were wont to wave; the rosy hue which had once adorned the cheek, was now broken into streaks; and on brows formerly smooth, the handwriting of care was now visible.
About this time, Sir Patrick Felspar, after being absent for a number of years, paid a short visit to his tenants. On coming to Sunnybraes, and expressing himself highly satisfied with William Chrighton's manner of farming and general management, that individual thought it a favourable opportunity for introducing Elspeth and her two children to his notice. The story seemed to affect him, and he immediately proposed taking the boy into his own service. This proposal was agreed to; and, at his departure, Sandy Roger accompanied him to London, where we must leave him.
George Chrighton, though only a schoolboy when we last noticed him, was now a stout-looking, well-built young man, rather above the middle size, and, for some time past, he had been his father's only assistant at Sunnybraes. Nor was the change which had been produced on Nancy Black less conspicuous. From being a mere girl, in the course of six years she had become a beautiful maiden, in the last of her teens, and with a natural modesty, which, though it added greatly to her other charms, almost unfitted her for the situation she occupied in her father's household. Of this youthful pair, it was generally surmised in the neighbourhood, that the attachment which had begun in their school days, had "grown with their growth, and strengthened with their strength," till it had ripened into love.
Such surmises have often been made before, upon occasions where there was not even the shadow of a foundation for them. But, in the present instance, the gossips and tattlers were not so far wrong; for the two were really lovers, though, from the implacable temper of Mr. Black, they found it necessary to conceal their affection; and, for two years more, in as far as an open confession is concerned, they did conceal it. They were not, however, wholly without their "stolen interviews," which, though "few and far between," with the additional disadvantage of being short, were, in this case, sufficient to keep the flame alive. They also found means of occasionally exchanging notices of each other upon paper—that dernier resort of all unfortunate lovers.
Catherine Roger, who had hitherto been thought and spoken of as the lassie Kate, was now beginning to expand into the young woman, and—smitten with her charms, as wise people began to suppose—Andrew Sharp, one of Mr. Black's farm-servants, had, of late, become rather a regular visitor at her mother's. At first, he came with a quantity of worsted, "to see if she would knit a pair of stockings for him;" next, he "came to see if she would darn the heels of a pair of stockings;" and, by and by, he sometimes ventured to "come owre, just to speer for her." While his business was thus, to all appearance, exclusively with the mother, he frequently found an opportunity of stealing a look at the daughter, or, more fortunate still, of exchanging a word with her, as if by the by. It is probable, however, that the former—
"Wi' a woman's wyles, could spy
What made the youth sae bashfu an' sae grave;"
and, whatever her fears might be, there is no reason to doubt that she was
"Weel pleased to see her bairn respected like the lave."
Andrew, though young, was by no means deficient in shrewdness; he was naturally of an obliging turn—a quiet conscientious lad—a great favourite with his young mistress, and he was sometimes made the bearer of those paper messengers which went between the lovers.
The leases of both farms were now within a year of being out, and both the farmers had begun to use what interest they could to have them renewed. As to the success of William Chrighton, those who pretended to see farther than their neighbours, shook their heads, and seemed uncertain; but of Mr. Black being successful, no one seemed to entertain the smallest doubt. Sir Patrick, of late, had left the management of those matters wholly to his factor, Mr. Goosequill; and, in the esteem of this individual, Mr. Black now stood deservedly high. Scarcely a month had been allowed to pass, for the last two years, without a present of poultry, eggs, butter, or cheese being sent from Nettlebank to the factor. Upon these occasions, Gilbert was commonly the bearer, and he always stayed over night, and either drank toddy with the representative of the laird, or poured flatteries into the ear of Miss Grizzy, his daughter. At these doings, far-sighted people shook their heads again, and said that Mr. Black's hens were never sold in a rainy day, except to serve some purpose, and darkly hinted at the possibility of his taking both farms.