Adventures of Bindle Part 20

"Na, na, Mrs. Beendle," replied Mr. MacFie. "I joost cam in to--to----" He hesitated.

"But won't you sit down, sir?" Mrs. Bindle indicated a chair by the side of the table.

Mr. MacFie drew the chair towards him, sitting bolt upright, holding his soft felt hat upon his knees.

Mrs. Bindle drew another chair from under the opposite side of the table and seated herself primly upon it. With folded hands she waited for the minister to speak.

Mr. MacFie was obviously ill at ease.

"Ye'll be comin' to the sairvice, the nicht, Mrs. Beendle?" he began.

"Oh, yes, sir," responded Mrs. Bindle, moving her head back on her shoulders, depressing her chin and drawing in her lips with a simper.

"I wouldn't miss your address."

"Aye!" said Mr. MacFie, gazing into vacancy as if in search of inspiration. Finding none, he repeated "Aye!"

Mr. MacFie's expression was one of persistent gloom. No smile was ever permitted to wanton across his sandy features. After a few moments'

silence he made another effort.

"I'm sair consairned, Mrs. Beendle----" He stopped, wordless.

"Yes, sir," responded Mrs. Bindle encouragingly.

"I'm sair consairned no to see the wee la.s.sie more at the kirk."

"Who, sir, Millie?" queried Mrs. Bindle in surprise.

"Aye!" responded Mr. MacFie. "The call of mammon is like the blairst of a great trumpet, and to the unbelieving it is as sweet music. It is the call of Satan, Mrs. Beendle, the call of Satan," he repeated, as if pleased with the phrase. "I'd na like the wee la.s.sie to--to----"

"I'll speak to Mr. Hearty, sir," said Mrs. Bindle, compressing her lips. "It's very good of you, sir, I'm sure, to----"

"Na, na," interrupted Mr. MacFie hastily, "na, na, Mrs. Beendle, ma duty. It is the blessed duty of the shepherd to be consairned for the welfare----"

He stopped suddenly. The outer door had banged, and there was the sound of steps coming along the pa.s.sage. Bindle's voice was heard singing cheerily, "I'd rather Kiss the Mistress than the Maid." He opened the door and stopped singing suddenly. For a moment he stood looking at the pair with keen enjoyment. Both Mrs. Bindle and Mr.

MacFie appeared self-conscious, as they gazed obliquely at the interrupter.

"'Ullo, caught you," said Bindle jocosely.

"Bindle!" There was horror and anger in Mrs. Bindle's voice. Mr.

MacFie merely looked uncomfortable. He rose hastily.

"I must be gaeing, Mrs. Beendle," he said; then turning to Bindle remarked, "I joost cam to enquire if Mrs. Beendle was coming to chapel the nicht."

"Don't you fret about that, sir," said Bindle genially. "She wouldn't miss a chance to pray."

"And--and may we expect you, Mr. Beendle?" enquired Mr. MacFie by way of making conversation and preventing an embarra.s.sing silence.

"I ain't much on religion, sir," replied Bindle hastily. "Mrs. B.'s the one for that. Lemonade and religion are things, sir, wot I can be trusted with. I don't touch neither." Then, as Mr. MacFie moved towards the door, he added, "Must you go, sir? You won't stay an' 'ave a bit o' supper?"

"Na, na!" replied Mr. MacFie hastily, "I hae the Lord's work to do, Mr. Beendle, the Lord's work to do," he repeated as he shook hands with Mrs. Bindle and then with Bindle. "The Lord's work to do," he repeated for a third time as, followed by Mrs. Bindle, he left the room.

"Funny thing that the Lord's work should make 'im look like that,"

remarked Bindle meditatively, as he drew a tin of salmon from his pocket.

When Mrs. Bindle returned to the kitchen it was obvious that she was seriously displeased. The bangs that punctuated the process of "dis.h.i.+ng-up" were good fortissimo bangs.

Bindle continued to read his paper imperturbably. In his nostrils was the scent of a favourite stew. He lifted his head like a hound, appreciatively sniffing the air, a look of contentment overspreading his features.

Having poured out the contents of the saucepan, Mrs. Bindle went to the sink and filled the vessel with water. Carrying it across the kitchen, she banged it down on the stove. Opening the front, and picking up the poker, she gave the fire several unnecessary jabs.

"Wot did Sandy want?" enquired Bindle as he got to work upon his supper.

"Don't talk to me," snapped Mrs. Bindle. "You'd try a saint, you would, insulting the minister in that way."

"Insultin'! Me!" cried Bindle in surprise. "Why, I only cheer-o'd 'im."

"You'll never learn 'ow to behave," stormed Mrs. Bindle, losing her temper and her aitches. "Look at you now, all dressed up and leaving me alone."

Bindle was wearing his best clothes, for some reason known only to himself.

"Anyone would think you was goin' to a weddin'," continued Mrs.

Bindle.

"Not again," said Bindle cheerfully. "Wot was ole Scotch-an'-Soda after?" he enquired.

"When you ask me a proper question, I'll give you a proper answer,"

announced Mrs. Bindle.

"Oh, Lord!" said Bindle with mock resignation. "Well, wot did the Reverend MacAndrew want?"

"He came to enquire why Millie was so often absent from chapel. I shall have to speak to Mr. Hearty," said Mrs. Bindle.

Bindle's reply was a prolonged whistle. "'E's after Millikins, is 'e?"

he muttered.

That is how both Bindle and Mrs. Bindle first learned that the Rev.

Andrew MacFie was interested in their pretty niece, Millie Hearty.

Mrs. Bindle mentioned the fact of Mr. MacFie's call to Mr. Hearty, and from that moment he had seen in the minister a potential son-in-law.

The angular piety of Mr. MacFie rendered him an awkward, not to say a clumsy, lover.

"I likes to see ole Mac a-'angin' round Millikins," remarked Bindle to Mrs. Bindle one evening over supper. "It's like an 'ippopotamus a-givin' the glad-eye to a canary."

"Heathen!" was Mrs. Bindle's sole comment.

Millie Hearty herself had been much troubled by Mr. MacFie's ponderous attentions. At first she had regarded them merely as the friendly interest of a pastor in a member of his flock; but soon they became too obvious for misinterpretation.

"Millikins!" said Bindle one evening, as he and Millie were walking home from the pictures, "you ain't a-goin' to forget Charlie, are you?"