“Most certainly,” replied Dione; “for it is my wish to respect you and——”
“Love you,” said Nashon, making out her sentences. “Dione Græme, if ye wad only repeat, wi’ thae bonny lips the words I hae now uttered, I wad soon change the wish into the thing wished for; an’, what is mair, I wad mak your love the handmaiden o’ your respect, whilk, being an act o’ the judgment, whase laws are eternal, is mair necessary to the happiness o’ a marriage than the love o’ the fickle thing they ca’ the heart, whilk beats fast and slow wi’ the changes o’ wind and weather.”
“Would that my respect were already equal to my—my—feeling for you!” said Dione, blushing.
“The mair appropriate word ye hae now blinked,” said Nashon, “wad hae been mair pleasant to me; but I maun be content wi’ your thoughts till I shew mysel mair worthy o’ their bein revealed. The morn’s the race-day, an’ my steeple-chase prize is to be run for the day after. Ye may smile as ye like, but the laugh may yet be on the other side. Ye see how grave I can be when I speak o’ serious things. I understand your faither has bought a fine new tandem for the occasion. We gae forward merrily—dashin awa in fine style. Dinna we, Dione?”
“And where it is to end I know not,” replied she. “My father, I understand, is merely an extravagant man, who will soon see the end of his fortune; for I have heard he has been already applying to Mr Langbane, the rich laird of Conybarns, for a loan of money; but, as for you, there is a mystery about your extravagance which I cannot penetrate—though this much I can easily understand, that he who trusts himself upon a stormy sea in an open boat, may miscalculate the power of his own resources in saving him from a watery grave.”
Nashon laughed at the fears of Dione, and, before they parted, assumed the boldness of sealing the protestations of his affection, and the sincerity of his views of ultimate prudence and amendment, by a kiss, which, though it produced a blush extending from bandeau to tucker, was, in the end, forgiven with such a sweetness of expression and so modest a demeanour, that a stoic could not have resisted the impulse which stimulated the thief to a repetition of the petty larceny.
Nashon’s subsequent proceedings were of the same character as those already detailed. He attended the races in a borrowed tandem, without hinting anything concerning the proprietorship of what was presumed to be his own. His generosity in being the contributor of the prize of the next steeple-chase was lauded by all those who got a chance for winning it. Dinners followed at Eyrymount and other places; and Nashon, following in the wake of Græme, though sometimes leading the way, appeared to be fast hurrying to the gulf which awaits the victims of passions whose gratification holds no proportion to the means of supporting a dissolute life. A year passed on, during which a great deal of money was spent by Græme, and not a little by Nashon, whose resources from the funds he got as executor of the proprietor of Outfieldhaugh were, however, more than sufficient for a much greater expenditure. In the midst of this dissipation he was repeatedly attempted to be reclaimed by those who wished him well, and, among others, his old master, Langbane, had many interviews with him, with a view of producing some salutary sense of the imprudence of his conduct.
“I hae warned you,” said the old miser, “an’ my warnins are nae beetles’ sangs i’ the auld wa’s o’ spaein wives. But the truth o’ our proverbs works out in spite o’ a’ the warnins o’ Solomon; an I think we hae ane that says, ‘Set a beggar on horseback an’ he’ll ride to the deevil.’ I hae seen that verified often i’ my day; and anither o’ the same kind—‘Reek comes aye down again, however high it flees’—is just as pithy and pertinent to your case. I never mak an apology for gi’en a man a guid advice; because, if he taks the poker and drives me out o’ his house, he just verifies another guid auld sayin—‘He that comes atween a fule and his ruin, is like him wha interferes atween a man an’ his wife—he’s sure o’ the reddin straik.’”
“But ye needna be afraid o’ my poker, guid friend,” replied Nashon, laughing. “I tak a’ ye hae said in guid part, though I fear ye wadna come sae weel aff at Eyrymount.”
“I believe if I wad lend him the three thousand pounds he wants me to advance to him,” said Langbane, with a smile, “I might say onything I liked to him.”