The good woman abridged the period of hesitation by inquiring, "Was ye wanting the gudeman or me, lass?"
"I wanted to speak with Mr. Butler, if he's at leisure," replied Jeanie.
"Gang in by then, my woman," answered the goodwife; and opening the door of a room, she announced the additional visitor with, "Mr. Butler, here's a lass wants to speak t'ye."
The surprise of Butler was extreme, when Jeanie, who seldom stirred half-a-mile from home, entered his apartment upon this annunciation.
"Good God!" he said, starting from his chair, while alarm restored to his cheek the colour of which sickness had deprived it; "some new misfortune must have happened!"
"None, Mr. Reuben, but what you must hae heard of—but oh, ye are looking ill yoursell!"—for the "hectic of a moment" had not concealed from her affectionate eyes the ravages which lingering disease and anxiety of mind had made in her lover's person.
"No: I am well—quite well," said Butler with eagerness; "if I can do anything to assist you, Jeanie—or your father."
"Ay, to be sure," said Saddletree; "the family may be considered as limited to them twa now, just as if Effie had never been in the tailzie, puir thing. But, Jeanie lass, what brings you out to Liberton sae air in the morning, and your father lying ill in the Luckenbooths?"
"I had a message frae my father to Mr. Butler," said Jeanie with embarrassment; but instantly feeling ashamed of the fiction to which she had resorted, for her love of and veneration for truth was almost Quaker-like, she corrected herself—"That is to say, I wanted to speak with Mr. Butler about some business of my father's and puir Effie's."
"Is it law business?" said Bartoline; "because if it be, ye had better take my opinion on the subject than his."