AFTER
all these terrible excitements, the Beild settled
down into a period of placid dulness, unbroken by anything more stirring
than the harvest, which was
early, owing to the fine dry spring and warm early summer. During the
holiday months Erskine Nicoll was at home but little, visiting much with his
friends the Morgans, through whose agency he obtained
a holiday engagement to travel with the young son
of a Perthshire laird through Holland.
This engagement was not
fully understood by Binns and his wife themselves, let alone the Beild ; but
Shoosan was convinced that it was a terrible grand thing, and Binns suffered
it because Erskine had not
asked him for any money to go.
Otherwise he said he did not think muckle of it, as
folks are apt to do when they don't know.
The next
upheaval in the place was the resignation of Bruce Rymer, which came upon
the Board like a thunder-clap the week before the school closed in July.
These
were the early days of the School Board, of which Binns was the chairman.
Had it not been that he and Mr. Bowman kept the Beild right, there would
have been queer ongauns in that Board, which was composed of ten members,
very few of whom had any interest in the Beild, or who knew much about
education. In spite of his nearness and his gruff ways, however, Binns was a
most intelligent man, a terrible reader, and one who liked to understand
what he took in hand. But he did not bother himself to study any question in
which he had not a special interest, and that is why he never got to
understand the ins and outs of Erskine's tutorship. As the lad had elected
to cut himself off from the Binns, and did not disguise his contempt for the
place, his father had washed his hands of him. Even poor Shoosan, feeling
the gulf daily widening between them and Erskine, began to doubt the glory
of having a gentleman son. But she would rather have died than admit as
much.
Since the
marrying of Dod Aitken and Marget Broon, a dryness had sprung up between the
east and west end of the Beild—on Erskine's account of course, though Jeanie
appeared as blithe as ever, and did not seem to suffer because it was all
broken off. She had given her own version to her mother. It was secretly
sore on Leezbeth, and she just left off going to the Binns, confiding to
Nanse Wricht one night that it was "just as weel she shouldna get her tongue
about Shoosan Nicoll's lugs."
The newly
wedded pair, Dod and Mag, settled down doucely, and Dod speedily became a
highly respectable member of society, attending the kirk every Sabbath Day,
and eschewing Bawbie's at nights. Nor did he suffer thereby. Marget, being a
wise woman, gave him his " drappie "—some reduced in quantity maybe, but of
prime quality—at his own fireside; and Dod and she lived very cantily
together, just as if they had done so all their days.
Bruce
Rymer also took a holiday engagement of a less pretentious sort, money being
precious to him; and in the second week of October he came back to bid
good-bye to the Beild, previous to entering on his medical study at
Edinburgh University. The new teacher, a married man, was by this time
installed in the Beild—a grave, solemn-faced person, who as yet managed the
Beild bairns in but a middling way. To fully master the intricacies of the
Beild character, old or young, you have to be brought up in the place ; no
stranger has half a chance.
Bruce was
made welcome by his friend Mr. Bowman at the Manse for the two days he
proposed to abide in the Beild, and blithe were the two to find themselves
cracking together again by the familiar fireside. The minister, since his
love affair, as yet undreamed of by the Beild (that would be an excitement
for them, if you like), had become a new man. He looked years younger; his
step was blithe and buoyant, his eye bright and happy, his whole bearing
that of a man to whom the world is a place worth living in. Even the Pithorn
troubles, by no means over, sat but lightly on him. Love, with touch of
healing and of divine hope, had laid her finger on his sore heart, and
lifted him to her celestial heights for ever. They were middle-aged people,
and therefore not foolish; but they leaned upon each other with a great,
quiet, trustful affection, which had made the desert blossom to them like a
rose. The two friends sat far into the night, talking chiefly of Bruce's
concerns, in which Mr. Bowman had a brother's interest.
" You'll
do, Bruce; there's nothing you can't achieve in my estimation, and in you I
see revived the ambitions of my own far-away youth. If only you keep your
health you'll do—ay, you'll do, and finely too."
Bruce had
no lack of enthusiasm in his own soul; still, it was honey sweet to him to
hear such words of cheer from the lips of the friend he loved best on earth.
" Now, I
say, we've talked about me and my concerns for three mortal hours, and never
a cheep about you," he said. " Dare I ask when the wedding's going to be ? "
"You may;
but I don't know it myself, nor am I troubling my head greatly about that.
By-the-bye, I'll be over the last week of the month. The case is to come on
then in the Court of Session."
" Is it
though ?" asked Bruce, with intense interest. " Do you think there's any
chance of the will being broken, and Miss Dempster getting her own ? "
" Sir
Ludo thinks so," answered Mr.
Bowman,
with a smile at the memory of some of Sir Ludo's outbursts. "And I hear that
Gavin Dempster is some doubtful, but means to fight to the bitter end. I'm
not caring much how the thing goes, and truly I think Miss Dempster is of
the same mind."
" I'm
glad you've got Sir Ludo to fight for you then," said Bruce. " I never saw
two such folk; there is not a worldly thought in your heads 1"
" Oh ay,
a few, now and then," replied the minister, as he watched, in unutterable
content, the blue wreath curling upward from the new pipe Bruce had brought
him.
"This is
a grand pipe, Bruce, and so is the tobacco. Man, what a difference it makes
to life! I hope you'll find it out for yourself some day."
" I've
smoked many a good pipe in my time," said Bruce, with a twinkle in his eye,
wilfully taking him up amiss.
" I
daresay; but it's the other I mean," said Mr. Bowman placidly, not in the
least put out. "When you meet with the woman who believes in you, and who
out of love is willing to give herself to you without a question or a doubt,
that's what'll rouse all that's best and heavenliest in you. I believe
myself it's the means of grace God tries with most men,—through mother love
first, then the wife; after that there's only the love of bairns, and if
that fails to make a good man out of a middling one or a bad one, the
devil's got him, that's what I think."
Bruce was
silent, listening to his friend's speech as to a gospel, which indeed it was
to him. But it was a theme upon which he felt shyly, and could not pass an
opinion.
The early
part of the next day Bruce occupied in making calls at the west end, giving
Nanse Wricht a goodly portion of his time, and also crying in at the Binns,
though not stopping long, as the Nicolls did not approve his new venture,
Shoosan regarding it as presumptuous, and Binns as very risky, seeing he had
a fixed income in the Beild and a roof-tree to himself. Then, after an early
dinner at the Manse, the two strode over the moss in the fine, clear October
weather, Raef and Birse couthie as of yore (the latter having found a
temporary home at the Manse), fleeing on in front after the paitricks, and
an odd grouse which had survived the August slaughter.
They were
for Strathairn, where Miss Dempster was looking for them to tea. Though
Bruce, shy as a school-girl over a love affair, almost feared to look at the
pair, he could not help seeing the perfect and beautiful understanding which
was between them, the peace and the happiness in their eyes as they regarded
each other, and it made his lonely heart ache. Euphame Dempster had always
been an attractive and eident gentlewoman; but there was something about her
now, a sweet womanliness, which made Bruce feel that he could almost worship
her.
The
bitterness of that sad summer-time was now past, and she was blithely happy,
ready
with her joke even over the im-' pending law-suit—interested, too, most
deeply in all Bruce's plans, which he found himself over the teacups
discussing with as much freedom as at the Manse fireside.
By-and-by
Mr. Bowman left them a few minutes, to see one of his people in the Airn
village, and Bruce did not feel at all embarrassed to find himself so left.
" Mr.
Bowman will miss you very much this winter, Mr. Rymer," said Miss Dempster.
" He is always saying to me he will be lost without you."
Bruce was
sometimes blunt of speech, and out it came before he knew where he was.
" Will
you not be going to the Manse yourself before the winter's out, Miss
Dempster ? "
Her
delicate cheek flushed a little, and she laughed.
" Maybe;
it all depends on the law-suit. Did you think it a terrible foolish step for
two such old folk, Mr. Rymer ?"
" I—no—I
think it just—just splendid," cried Bruce hotly. " I thought, maybe, just at
first, that Mr. Bowman might not be my friend any more, like he has been.
Oh, he has been everything to me, Miss Dempster, since I was a bairn !"
" But you
don't think I will rob you of your friend now ? "
" No, I
don't, because you're so awfully kind to me too, and—and I don't know what
I'm saying, I believe; only there's some things a fellow feels, and when he
tries to say them it's all up with him."
There was
a tear in Euphame Dempster's eye, and with a gesture of infinite grace she
stretched out her hand to him.
" I
understand you quite. If ever I go to the Beild Manse, Bruce, there'll be a
double welcome for you instead of a single one— that'll be all the
difference."
From that
day the woman who loved his friend and whom his friend loved was enshrined
in Bruce Rymer's heart among his sacred things, to be cherished to his
death.
It was
early evening—"forenicht," as Beild folk called it—when they got back; and
leaving Mr. Bowman to go to the Manse alone, Bruce went on to the east end
to see some more folk. He said " folk," but he only thought of one, and went
straight to Sandy Morison's house. Sandy, to whom Dod now set such an
excellent example, was sitting in the chimney corner reading tit-bits from
the People's Journal
to his wife and daughter, who were cutting rags into strips for a new
rag-mat. They were all blithe to see him ; and Bruce, though he almost
feared to look, thought there was a bit flush on Jeanie's cheek, as she
shyly rose to greet him.
" We
heard yestreen ye were comin', Bruce," said Leezbeth, " an' was wonderin' if
the vera thocht o' the college was gaun to spile anither Beild laddie."
" Which
means that you thought I wouldn't come to see you, eh, Mrs. Morison ? I
don't think I've done anything yet to deserve that."
" No ;
but ye had a shinin' example wast the toon," replied Leezbeth. " Bring ben
the bottle, Jeanie."
" Not for
me, Mrs. Morison. I'm beginning where I mean to end : the less I see of the
bottle the next four years, it'll be the better for me."
" Fower
year's a lang time," said Sandy reflectively. " Ye'll be nane the waur o'
wan nip. Rin, Jeanie."
" Eh,
Bruce, the Beild skule's no what it was, I hear them a' sayin'," said
Leezbeth regretfully. " Ye'll maybe mak' mair siller, but ye'll never be
mair liket than ye was here."
" I
believe that, Mrs. Morison, and I'll never forget the Beild as long as I
live," said Bruce quietly.
" We'll
hope no, for the Beild'll no forget you in a hurry. That's a wummin, Jeanie.
There's shortbreid in the tap drawer. Fesh'd when ye're at it."
Over the
shortbread and the whisky, which Bruce merely touched with his lips out of
respect to the " Here's to ye " with which his friends charged their
glasses, they had a very friendly chat; and it was nearly ten o'clock when
Bruce jumped up saying he must go, having still to look in on Marget Aitken,
and some others, if they should not be a-bed.
All this
time Jeanie had been gey quiet, working at her clipping, with her bonnie
eyes downbent, but listening—ay, never losing a single word. As they stood
up to bid him good-night and God-speed, he looked straightly at her, and
before her parents said bravely,—
"Will you
come to the door with me, Jeanie ? I have just one word to say to you."
Sandy
took another nip and a prodigious pinch of snuff; Leezbeth smiled, not
ill-pleased, and wrung the young man's hand again.
"
Guid-bye, an' Guid keep ye, Bruce. Come back till's as ye are, an' blithe'll
be yer welcome."
" I will,
Mrs. Morison," replied Bruce fervently, and made haste to the door, where
Jeanie, trembling a wee, already waited him. He drew to the door; but within
the porch, about which the autumn-tinted creepers still hung, though but
sadly, they were free from observation.
"
Jeanie," said Bruce, with all the earnestness he felt, "maybe it is soon to
speak, but I cannot go away without asking you not to forget me, without
knowing whether there is any hope for me ?"
Jeanie
was silent, but could he but have seen her face his heart had leaped within
him.
" Fower
year's a long time, as faither says, Bruce; an' maybe—I'm no sayin' ye will,
but if the college should gar ye look down on the Beild like Erskine Nicoll,
what wad I dae then ? "
" Is
there no difference then in your eyes between Erskine and me ? " said Bruce,
some bitterly.
" Ye are
not like Erskine now, Bruce; but oh, I'm feared. It's hard on a lassie to be
slichtit aince, let alane twice."
" God
forbid that I should do that, Jeanie, when I love you so dearly! Won't you
trust me a little, my, my dear ?"
Then she
crept to him, sobbing, and laid her head on his breast.
" I've
aye liket you best, Bruce, I think, even when I thocht I liket Erskine; an'
if ye dinna change your mind, at the end of fower year you'll find Jeanie
Morison waitin' for ye."
So one
more hope, the loveliest that can illumine a young man's life, was given to
Bruce Rymer; and on the morrow he went forth to his new life, rendered
strong through a maiden's love and trust, to make it the noble thing such
life can be, and is intended to be made by Him who gives us all that is
worth the winning here. |