CHAPTER XV.

  _MARY_.

  It was a revival of the dear dead past to Mary Brown, to find herselfagain at Inchbracken. General Drysdale took her in to dinner, and,perhaps because he would not touch upon the present, leading, as itmust, to her brother's defection from the national Church, nor, infact, on that young man in any way or respect whatever, he talked toher about her father and mother.

  She found it very grateful to listen to their praises; and somethinglike a tear glistened in her eye while she looked in the oldgentleman's face, and the faint colour of her cheek deepened into awarmer pink.

  We value our powers to interest others most when we feel them leavingus, and it is not often that an old man's conversation can bring aflush or a tear to the cheek of youth and beauty. General Drysdalefelt pleased as he marked the effect of his words. It recalled, whocan say what associations with the time when he was a young man, andan object of more interest to the fair, and he became more and morewarmed himself, out of sympathy, as he dwelt on the charities and theworth of Mary's parents.

  Julia, from her place across the table, remarked with surprise theGeneral's unusual animation and loquacity, and his unwontedinattention to the high duty of the hour--dining. Mary's eyes wereshining, and in her plain black dress with the roses, she bloomed abrighter flower than they, radiant in pure content. So, at least, itwas evident that Kenneth thought. He sat at some distance from her,and had even to lean forward somewhat to see, but his eyes were evertravelling in that direction, and he appeared to answer the gentlemenon either side of him in so distraught and unsatisfactory a manner,that they soon ceased to disturb his musings by further talk.

  Julia had arrayed herself for conquest. She always dressed well andcarefully, but on the present occasion her effort had risen into theregion of art. Arrayed in some combination of white and green, whichcured any tendency to yellowness in her complexion (and her shouldersat times were a trifle too suggestive of old waxwork), her pale eyestwinkled with quite an unwonted lustre, and there was positively abloom on her cheeks and lips, while the falling ringlets were longerand more poetic than ever. When Briggs went into her room during thedressing hour, she had surprised her in the act of locking somethingvery like a paint-box into her desk, and she had made a pretty sharpsurvey while she added the few pins that were all the office requiredof her; but, as she remarked subsequently, 'I could not take my oathof it, Mrs. Kipper; if she do, she manages uncommon clever.' Paintingis a fine art, and Julia had studied it as well as all the others, andwould have thought it but a paltry achievement to deceive the stupideyes of poor Briggs.

  There were several strange gentlemen at table, and Julia was on hermettle. The two who sat next her found her most agreeable, but sparkleher best, she failed to catch one glance of appreciation fromKenneth's eyes. At the end of the table she saw Mary, and the Generalstill smiling and engrossed in their talk, and confessed to herselfthat she had undervalued the strength of the enemy. To think that thatslip of a girl, brought up in a country manse, should manage sosplendidly, and contrive to win the old gentleman to her side as wellas the young one! How was it done? Through all the years she had dinedat his table, she had never been able to extract more conversationfrom him than a casual remark between the courses, and latterly shehad ceased even to expect that.

  Matters did not progress much more satisfactorily in the drawing-room.Julia had sat down to the piano, and played her best, which is sayinga great deal, for she was a brilliant performer. She also sang, andalthough her voice was thin, it had had the best training, and shecould warble through the most intricate compositions with consummatetaste and execution. She soon had all the gentlemen gathered aroundher in silent admiration, all, that is to say, except the General, whowas in his usual corner, by his own lamp, his eye-glass on his noseand a blue book in his lap. As one of the legislators of this greatnation, he felt it incumbent to fall asleep--to fall asleep over itsaffairs every evening; it reminded him of the House in fact, where hehad had many a good nap in his day. However, as he never spoke, andalways voted straight with his party, that made no difference. Kennethtoo was wanting. Mary Brown sat on a low stool beside Lady Caroline'sarm-chair, who,--the lady that is, not the chair--was chattingdrowsily to her, while she swayed her great fan to and fro, andKenneth, with his elbow on the chimney-piece, hung over both. Juliawas by no means insensible to the admiration of the strangers,--atanother time it would have given her great satisfaction; but just atpresent, the defection of Kenneth and his father out-weighed it all.

  There is now but one chance to outshine her rival--to get her to thepiano and try how her poor little efforts will sound after her ownfinished performance. After one more song, therefore, which she tookcare should be the _chef d'[oe]uvre_, she declared she could sing nomore, but suggested that some one should ask Miss Brown. Miss Brownwas asked, and would fain have declined, but Lady Caroline recollectedhow sweetly her mother used to sing old Scotch ballads, and enquiredif she had not taught them to Mary. Mary had to admit so much, andthereupon was led to the piano, while Julia seated herself in fullview to enjoy a triumph.

  It is no doubt perfectly true that Scotch music is by no means thehighest development of that delightful art. It is but the outcome ofnatural feeling in a simple age and among an unsophisticated people;yet it does not by any means afford a good or safe medium for thebeginner or the bungler to display to advantage his slender skill,while proficients in operatic music will find little opportunity todisplay their vocal feats, and it is quite probable that they may notbe able to render it at all. It has an accent of its own which is notexpressed in the musical notation, and is beyond the reach of any buta native, and attained but by few of them. Mary Brown's musicalopportunities had not been great, but she had a full pure voice,always in perfect tune, and she had been accustomed to hear and tosing Scotch ballads all her life, and she entered into their spirit.Before she had sung two verses, the General's drooping head hadsteadied itself, he had risen to his feet, joined the group by thepiano, and was beating time with his eye-glass to the quaint oldmeasure. Lady Caroline too had risen, a most unusual exertion for herto make after dinner, and was standing with the rest.

  In this highly cultured age, we are all most learnedly musical.Beethoven, Bach, Spohr, we pay guineas to hear their works rendered,and are immensely pleased of course; though perhaps there are more ofus than the one of whom it is recorded, who could very well mistakethe tuning of the fiddles for the choicest morceau of the evening, andwho certainly prefer the grand finale to all the rest. But the effectof a well-sung Scotch song on a roomful of Scotch people is somethingmarkedly different from the conventional and sometimes fictitiousenjoyment of high music. Like the spiders which issued from thecrannies of his cell when the Bastile prisoner touched his lute, sothe inherent nature of the Scot will out and show itself at the soundof the national music, the dullest eye brightens and the heaviest footwould join the strathspey. It is in the blood. The artificial andconventional culture is scarce fifty years old, while the individualand peculiar nationality, of which our music is the voice, has comedown in the blood through twenty generations, from before Bannockburnand the wars of independence, and is still present behind thewhitewash of cosmopolitan pretence.

  Lady Caroline wiped her eyes under the rendering of Bessie Bell andMary Gray's sad fate, and declared it reminded her of the old nurseryat Pitthevlis, when she was a child. The General (who would havethought it?) was most interested by the woes of true love; and the'Mill dams of Binnorie' and 'Barbara Allan' made him tug his moustachevery hard. The strangers each had his special favourite, and Mary knewthem all; then at length she was permitted to rise from the piano, andshe did so amid an ovation of thanks. Julia's plan to belittle her hadnot succeeded.

  The following forenoon Kenneth drove her over to Glen Effick. Theystopped at the inn by Gortonside, where they were told of Roderick'sillness, and how he had started for home only an hour before. That wast
he single bitter drop in Mary's cup. She had spent a delightful dayat Inchbracken, and now, undreamed of joy, Kenneth was driving herhome himself. He was, oh! 'so nice,' and was saying----. No matterwhat he said, but it seemed the sweetest song she had ever listenedto.

  Lady Caroline and Julia had stood together at the window, and watchedthe pair drive away.

  'It is not often Kenneth is so attentive to any one,' she observed toJulia. 'The two appear to have settled themselves for a mostcomfortable chat. And really she is a nice girl, and so pretty. I amnot surprised at Kenneth's fancy, and if anything comes of it I shallmake no objection. I once tried to bring on an attachment between himand one of the Pitthevlis girls, quite as much for Pitthevlis' sakeand the girl's as for Kenneth's, for I know she won't have sixpence;but she thought she could secure a title then, and was disposed toreserve us for a consolation stake, if the other venture miscarried.That was more than I could brook, as you may suppose, considering itwas they were to be the gainers, and not I, so Edith has never beenasked to Inchbracken again, nor will be, till either she or Kenneth ismarried. Not that it matters, very likely, for of course the plan wasonly between Pitthevlis and myself. With his long family and the messhe has made of his affairs, it was the only way I could think of tohelp him, and he appreciated it, but the girl and her mother were bothfools. However, it is doubtful if Kenneth would have fancied her inany case, he is so whimsical and critical. I have had half-a-dozengood fortunes staying with me at different times,--and a shockingordeal it is, my dear, to undergo, I can tell you; the monkeys seem sothoroughly to understand why they are there, and presume so abominablyupon it. But the very fact of my having brought them, seemed to sethim against them. He is so wilful and headstrong. I remember, when hewas a baby, the trouble we had with him,--insisting on feeding himselflong before he could hold the spoon. I suppose it is the same temperthat will not allow his old mother to help him in finding a wife. Ihave quite made up my mind to acquiesce in his choice, whatever it maybe, for it will do no good to remonstrate; and if this is the girl hehas set his fancy on, I confess I think he might go farther and fareworse.

  Julia listened. Lady Caroline's discourse generally poured itselfforth, irrespective of an interlocutor. She simply thought aloud to anauditor, who, of course, in the nature of things, must lend anattentive and sympathising ear to whatever a daughter of Pitthevlismight choose to say. Considering what had been her own views, it washardly an agreeable subject of conversation, but the pain was not verygreat. There was nothing emotional, neither jealousy nor wounded love,in the matter. Next to a cool head a cold heart is perhaps the bestoutfit for one who has to get on in the world by the exercise of hisown wits. Julia was a good deal like a spider, thinking that when oneweb has been swept, no time should be lost in beginning to weaveanother. Hate, spite, jealousy, are all unremunerative; worse, theyare waste of force. Yield to the inevitable, and try a new scheme whenthe old miscarries. Julia had to be settled in life, and so soon asthe one desirable party became manifestly unattainable, it was time tocast about for another.

  From Mary Brown she led the conversation back to the circumstancewhich had brought her to Inchbracken, and that naturally led back tothe companions who had shared with her the dangers of the mist.

  'Would it not be proper, Lady Caroline,' she said, 'since CraigFindochart is on the Inchbracken property, and a serious accidentmight so easily have occurred, to enquire for the people and how theygot home? If you think well, I could drive over and leave your card.'

  'I see no objection, my dear, if you want the drive; but she is sopushing, she will be returning the visit forthwith, and I dread that.She stifles me. Her very deference is aggravating.'

  'I think I should like the drive, dear Lady Caroline, and you shallhave all the news I can pick up on my return.'