Marriage Part 9

"Brother', brother!" cried Miss Grizzy in a tone of alarm, "I beg you won't place any unpleasant object before the eyes of our dear niece. I declare! Pray, was it the sight or the smell of the beast [1] that shocked you so much, my dear Lady Juliana? I'm sure I wish to goodness Lady Maclaughlan was come!"

[1] In Scotland everything that flies and swims ranks in the b.e.s.t.i.a.l tribe.

Mr. Douglas, or the Major, as he was styled, immediately rose and pulled the bell.

"Desire my gig to be got ready directly!" said he.

The aunts drew up stiffly, and looked at each other without speaking; but the old gentleman expressed his surprise that his son should think of leaving them so soon.

"May we inquire the reason of this sudden resolution?" at length said Miss Jacky in a tone of stifled indignation.

"Certainly, if you are disposed to hear it; it is because I find that there is company expected."

The three ladies turned up their hands and eyes in speechless horror.

"Is it that virtuous woman Lady Maclaughlan you would shun, nephew?"

demanded Miss Jacky.

"It is that insufferable woman I would shun," replied her nephew, with a heightened colour and a violence very unusual with him.

The good Miss Grizzy drew out her pocket-handkerchief, while Mrs.

Douglas vainly endeavoured to silence her husband, and avert the rising storm.

"Dear Douglas!" whispered his wife in a tone of reproach.

"Oh, pray let him go on," said Miss Jacky, almost choking under the effort she made to appear calm. "Let him go on. Lady Maclaughlan's character, luckily, is far above the reach of calumny; nothing that Mr.

Archibald Douglas can say will have power to change our opinions, or, I hope, to prejudice his brother and Lady Juliana against this most exemplary, virtuous woman--a woman of family--of fortune--of talents of accomplishments; a woman of unblemished reputation--of the strictest morals, sweetest temper, charming heart, delightful spirits, so charitable--every year gives fifty flannel petticoats to the old people of the parish---"

"Then such a wife as she is!" sobbed out Miss Grizzy. "She has invented I don't know how many different medicines for Sir Sampson's complaint, and makes a point of his taking some of them every day; but for her I'm sure he would have been in his grave long ago."

"She's doing all she can to send him there, as she has done many a poor wretch already, with her infernal compositions."

Here Miss Grizzy sank back in her chair, overcome with horror; and Miss Nicky let fall the teapot, the scalding contents of which discharged themselves upon the unfortunate Psyche, whose yells, mingling with the screams of its fair mistress, for a while drowned even Miss Jacky's oratory.

"Oh, what shall I do?" cried Lady Juliana, as she bent over her favourite. "Do send for a surgeon; pray, Henry, fly! Do fetch one directly, or she will die; and it would quite kill me to lose my darling. Do run, dearest Harry!"

"My dear Julia, how can you be so absurd? There's no surgeon within twenty miles of this."

"No surgeon within twenty miles!" exclaimed she, starting up. "How could you bring me to such a place? Good G.o.d! those dear creatures may die--I may die myself--before I can get any a.s.sistance!"

"Don't be alarmed, my dearest niece," said the good Miss Grizzy; "we are all doctors here. I understand something of physic myself; and our friend Lady Maclaughlan, who, I daresay, will be here presently, is perfect mistress of every disease of the human frame."

"Clap a cauld potatae to the brute's tae," cried the old Laird gruffly.

"I've a box of her scald ointment that will cure it in a minute."

"If it don't cure, it will kill," said Mr. Douglas, with a smile.

"Brother," said Miss Jacky, rising with dignity from her chair, and waving her hand as she spoke-"brother, I appeal to you to protect the character of this most amiable, respectable matron from the insults and calumny your son thinks proper to load it with. Sir Sampson Maclaughlan is your friend, and it therefore becomes your duty to defend his wife."

"Troth, but I'll hae aneugh to do if I am to stand up for a' my friends'

wives," said the old gentleman. "But, however, Archie, you are to blame: Leddy Maclaughlan is a very decent woman--at least, as far as I ken--though she is a little free in the gab; and out of respect to my auld friend Sir Sampson, it is my desire that you should remain here to receive him, and that you trait baith him and his Lady discreetly."

This was said in too serious a tone to be disputed, and his son was obliged to submit.

The ointment meanwhile having been applied to Psyche's paw, peace was restored, and breakfast, recommenced.

"I declare our dear niece has not tasted a morsel," observed Miss Nicky.

"Bless me, here's charming barley meal scones," cried one, thrusting a plateful of them before her. "Here's tempting pease bannocks,"

interposed another, "and oat cakes. I'm sure your Ladys.h.i.+p never saw such cakes."

"I can't eat any of those things," said their delicate niece, with an air of disgust. "I should like some m.u.f.fin and chocolate."

"You forget you are not in London, my love," said her husband reproachfully.

"No indeed, I do not forget it. Well then, give me some toast," with an air of languid condescension.

"Unfortunately, we happen be quite out of loaf bread at present," said Miss Nicky; "but we've sent to Drymsine for some. They bake excellent bread at Drymsine."

"Is there nothing within the bounds of possibility you would fancy, Julia?" asked Douglas. "Do think, love."

"I think I should like some grouse, or a beefsteak, if it was very nicely done," returned her Ladys.h.i.+p in a languis.h.i.+ng tone.

"Beef-steak!" repeated Miss Grizzy.

"Beef-steak!" responded Miss Jacky.

"Beef-steak!" reverberated Miss Nicky.

After much deliberation and consultation amongst the three spinsters, it was at length unanimously carried that the Lady's whim should be indulged.

"Only think, sisters," observed Miss Grizzy in an undertone, "what reflections we should have to make upon ourselves if the child was to resemble a moorfowl!"

"Or have a face like a raw beef-steak!" said Miss Nicky.

These arguments were unanswerable; and a smoking steak and plump moor-fowl were quickly produced, of which Lady Juliana partook in company with her four-footed favourites.

CHAPTER VII

"When winter soaks, the fields, and female feet-- Too weak to struggle with tenacious clay, Or ford the rivulets--are best at home."

_The Task_