‘Try,’ said the bailie’s wife, relapsing; ‘a pretty like story, that sic a gown should stand in the jeopardy o’ a try; but how could Miss Mally presume to send a silly thing like t’ee on this occasion? Lay down the gown this precious moment, and gae hame, and order her to come to me direkilty: it’s no to seek what I hae to say.’
The trembling and terrified girl let the unfortunate negligée fall, and hastily, in tears, quitted the room, and, flying from the house, met, in the street, her lover, who, having learnt where she was, had followed her to the house. A rapid and agitated disclosure of her feelings and situation followed. Charles, on the spot, resolved, at all hazards, rather to make her his wife at once, and to face the worst that might in consequence happen from his father’s displeasure, than allow her to remain exposed to such contumelious treatment. Accordingly, it was agreed that they should be married, and on the Monday following, the ceremony was performed, when he conducted her to a lodging which he had provided in the interval.
CHAPTER XVI
On the morning after his marriage, Charles was anxious, doubtful, and diffident. His original intention was to go at once to his father, to state what he had done, and to persuade him, if possible, to overlook a step, that, from its suddenness, might be deemed rash, but, from the source and motives from which it proceeded, could, he thought, be regarded only as praiseworthy. Still, though this was his own opinion, he, nevertheless, had some idea that the old gentleman would not view it exactly in the same light; and the feeling which this doubt awakened made him hesitate at first, and finally to seek a mediator.
He had long remarked, that ‘the leddy,’ his grandmother, sustained a part of great dignity towards his father; and he concluded, from the effect it appeared to produce, that her superiority was fully acknowledged. Under this delusion, after some consideration of the bearings and peculiarities of his case, he determined to try her interference, and, for that purpose, instead of going to Grippy, as he had originally intended, when he left Isabella, he proceeded to the house of the old lady, where he found her at home and alone.
The moment he entered her sitting-room, she perceived that his mind was laden with something which pressed heavily on his feelings; and she said,
‘What has vext you, Charlie? has your father been severe upon you for ony misdemeanour, or hae ye done any thing that ye’re afeared to tell?’
In the expression of these sentiments, she had touched the sensitive cord, that, at the moment, was fastened to his heart.
‘I’m sure,’ was his reply, ‘that I hae done no ill, and dinna ken why I should be frightened in thinking on what every bodie that can feel and reflect will approve.’
‘What is’t?’ said the leddy, thoughtfully: ‘What is’t? If it’s aught good, let me partake the solace wi’ you; and if it’s bad speak it out, that a remedy may be, as soon as possible, applied.’
‘Bell Fatherlans,’ was his answer; but he could only articulate her name.
‘Poor lassie,’ said the venerable gentlewoman, ‘her lot’s hard, and I’m wae both for your sake and hers, Charlie, that your father’s so dure as to stand against your marriage in the way he does. But he was ay a bargainer; alack! the world is made up o’ bargainers; and a heart wi’ a right affection is no an article o’ meikle repute in the common market o’ man and woman. Poor genty Bell! I wish it had been in my power to hae sweetened her lot; for I doubt and fear she’s oure thin-skinned to thole long the needles and prins o’ Miss Mally Trimmings’ short temper; and, what’s far waur, the tawpy taunts of her pridefu’ customers.’
‘She could suffer them no longer, nor would I let her,’ replied the bridegroom, encouraged by these expressions to disclose the whole extent of his imprudence.
Mrs. Hypel did not immediately return any answer, but sat for a few moments thoughtful, we might, indeed, say sorrowful – she then said,
‘Ye should na, Charlie, speak to me. I canna help you, my dear, though I hae the will. Gang to your father and tell him a’, and if he winna do what ye wish, then, my poor bairn, bravely trust to Providence, that gars the heart beat as it should beat, in spite o’ a’ the devices o’ man.’
‘I fear,’ replied Charles, with simplicity, ‘that I hae done that already, for Bell and me were married yesterday. I could na suffer to see her snooled and cast down any longer by every fat-pursed wife that would triumph and glory in a new gown.’
‘Married, Charlie!’ said the old lady with an accent of surprise, mingled with sorrow; ‘Married! weel, that’s a step that canna be untrodden, and your tribulation is proof enough to me that you are awakened to the consequence. But what’s to be done?’
‘Nothing, Mem, but only to speak a kind word for us to my father,’ was the still simple answer of the simple young husband.
‘I’ll speak for you, Charlie, I can do that, and I’ll be happy and proud to gie you a’ the countenance in my power; but your father, Charlie – the gude forgie me because he is your father – I’m darkened and dubious when I think o’ him.’
‘I hae a notion,’ replied Charles, ‘that we need be no cess on him: we’re content to live in a sma’ way; only I would like my wife to be countenanced as becomes her ain family, and mair especially because she is mine, so that, if my father will be pleased to tak her, and regard her as his gude-dochter, I’ll ask nothing for the present, but do my part, as an honest and honourable man, to the very uttermost o’ my ability.’
The kind and venerable old woman was profoundly moved by the earnest and frank spirit in which this was said; and she assured him, that so wise and so discreet a resolution could not fail to make his father look with a compassionate eye on his generous imprudence. ‘So gae your ways home to Bell,’ said she, ‘and counsel and comfort her; the day’s raw, but I’ll even now away to the Grippy to intercede for you, and by the gloaming be you here wi’ your bonny bride, and I trust, as I wish, to hae glad tidings for you baith.’
Charles, with great ardour and energy, expressed the sense which he felt of the old lady’s kindness and partiality, but still he doubted the successful result of the mission she had undertaken. Nevertheless, her words inspired hope, and hope was the charm that spread over the prospects of Isabella and of himself, the light, the verdure, and the colours which enriched and filled the distant and future scenes of their expectations with fairer and brighter promises than they were ever destined to enjoy.
CHAPTER XVII
Claud was sitting at the window when he discovered his mother-in-law coming slowly towards the house, and he said to his wife, —
‘In the name o’ gude, Girzy, what can hae brought your mother frae the town on sic a day as this?’
‘I hope,’ replied the Leddy of Grippy, ‘that nothing’s the matter wi’ Charlie, for he promised to be out on Sabbath to his dinner, and never came.’
In saying these words, she went hastily to the door to meet her mother, the appearance of whose countenance at the moment was not calculated to allay her maternal fears. Indeed, the old lady scarcely spoke to her daughter, but walking straight into the dining-room where Grippy himself was sitting, took a seat on a chair, and then threw off her cloak on the back of it, before she uttered a word.
‘What’s wrang, grannie?’ said Claud, rising from his seat at the window, and coming towards her. – ‘What’s wrang, ye seem fashed?’
‘In truth, Mr. Walkinshaw, I hae cause,’ was the reply – ‘poor Charlie!’ —
‘What’s happen’d to him?’ exclaimed his mother.
‘Has he met wi’ ony misfortunate accident?’ inquired the father.
‘I hope it’s no a misfortune,’ said the old lady, somewhat recovering her self-possession. ‘At the same time, it’s what I jealouse, Grippy, ye’ll no be vera content to hear.’
‘What is’t?’ cried the father sharply,