CHAPTER EIGHTH.
Reuben and Rachel, though as fond as doves, Were yet discreet and cautious in their loves, Nor would attend to Cupid's wild commands, Till cool reflection bade them join their hands; When both were poor, they thought it argued ill Of hasty love to make them poorer still. Crabbe's _Parish Register._
While widow Butler and widower Deans struggled with poverty, and the hardand sterile soil of "those parts and portions" of the lands ofDumbiedikes which it was their lot to occupy, it became graduallyapparent that Deans was to gain the strife, and his ally in the conflictwas to lose it. The former was a Man, and not much past the prime oflife--Mrs. Butler a woman, and declined into the vale of years, This,indeed, ought in time to have been balanced by the circumstance, thatReuben was growing up to assist his grandmothers labours, and that JeanieDeans, as a girl, could be only supposed to add to her father's burdens.But Douce Davie Deans know better things, and so schooled and trained theyoung minion, as he called her, that from the time she could walk,upwards, she was daily employed in some task or other, suitable to herage and capacity; a circumstance which, added to her father's dailyinstructions and lectures, tended to give her mind, even when a child, agrave, serious, firm, and reflecting cast. An uncommonly strong andhealthy temperament, free from all nervous affection and every otherirregularity, which, attacking the body in its more noble functions, sooften influences the mind, tended greatly to establish this fortitude,simplicity, and decision of character.
On the other hand, Reuben was weak in constitution, and, though not timidin temper might be safely pronounced anxious, doubtful, and apprehensive.He partook of the temperament of his mother, who had died of aconsumption in early age. He was a pale, thin, feeble, sickly boy, andsomewhat lame, from an accident in early youth. He was, besides, thechild of a doting grandmother, whose too solicitous attention to him soontaught him a sort of diffidence in himself, with a disposition tooverrate his own importance, which is one of the very worst consequencesthat children deduce from over-indulgence.
Still, however, the two children clung to each other's society, not morefrom habit than from taste. They herded together the handful of sheep,with the two or three cows, which their parents turned out rather to seekfood than actually to feed upon the unenclosed common of Dumbiedikes. Itwas there that the two urchins might be seen seated beneath a bloomingbush of whin, their little faces laid close together under the shadow ofthe same plaid drawn over both their heads, while the landscape aroundwas embrowned by an overshadowing cloud, big with the shower which haddriven the children to shelter. On other occasions they went together toschool, the boy receiving that encouragement and example from hiscompanion, in crossing the little brooks which intersected their path,and encountering cattle, dogs, and other perils, upon their journey,which the male sex in such cases usually consider it as their prerogativeto extend to the weaker. But when, seated on the benches of theschool-house, they began to con their lessons together, Reuben, who wasas much superior to Jeanie Deans in acuteness of intellect, as inferiorto her in firmness of constitution, and in that insensibility to fatigueand danger which depends on the conformation of the nerves, was ablefully to requite the kindness and countenance with which, in othercircumstances, she used to regard him. He was decidedly the best scholarat the little parish school; and so gentle was his temper anddisposition, that he was rather admired than envied by the little mob whooccupied the noisy mansion, although he was the declared favourite of themaster. Several girls, in particular (for in Scotland they are taughtwith the boys), longed to be kind to and comfort the sickly lad, who wasso much cleverer than his companions. The character of Reuben Butler wasso calculated as to offer scope both for their sympathy and theiradmiration, the feelings, perhaps, through which the female sex (the moredeserving part of them at least) is more easily attached.
But Reuben, naturally reserved and distant, improved none of theseadvantages; and only became more attached to Jeanie Deans, as theenthusiastic approbation of his master assured him of fair prospects infuture life, and awakened his ambition. In the meantime, every advancethat Reuben made in learning (and, considering his opportunities, theywere uncommonly great) rendered him less capable of attending to thedomestic duties of his grandmother's farm. While studying the _ponsasinorum_ in Euclid, he suffered every _cuddie_ upon the common totrespass upon a large field of peas belonging to the Laird, and nothingbut the active exertions of Jeanie Deans, with her little dog Dustiefoot,could have saved great loss and consequent punishment. Similarmiscarriages marked his progress in his classical studies. He readVirgil's Georgics till he did not know bere from barley; and had nearlydestroyed the crofts of Beersheba while attempting to cultivate themaccording to the practice of Columella and Cato the Censor.
These blunders occasioned grief to his grand-dame, and disconcerted thegood opinion which her neighbour, Davie Deans, had for some timeentertained of Reuben.
"I see naething ye can make of that silly callant, neighbour Butler,"said he to the old lady, "unless ye train him to the wark o' theministry. And ne'er was there mair need of poorfu' preachers than e'ennow in these cauld Gallio days, when men's hearts are hardened like thenether mill-stone, till they come to regard none of these things. It'sevident this puir callant of yours will never be able to do an usefu'day's wark, unless it be as an ambassador from our Master; and I willmake it my business to procure a license when he is fit for the same,trusting he will be a shaft cleanly polished, and meet to be used in thebody of the kirk; and that he shall not turn again, like the sow, towallow in the mire of heretical extremes and defections, but shall havethe wings of a dove, though he hath lain among the pots."
The poor widow gulped down the affront to her husband's principles,implied in this caution, and hastened to take Butler from the HighSchool, and encourage him in the pursuit of mathematics and divinity, theonly physics and ethics that chanced to be in fashion at the time.
Jeanie Deans was now compelled to part from the companion of her labour,her study, and her pastime, and it was with more than childish feelingthat both children regarded the separation. But they were young, and hopewas high, and they separated like those who hope to meet again at a moreauspicious hour. While Reuben Butler was acquiring at the University ofSt. Andrews the knowledge necessary for a clergyman, and macerating hisbody with the privations which were necessary in seeking food for hismind, his grand-dame became daily less able to struggle with her littlefarm, and was at length obliged to throw it up to the new Laird ofDumbiedikes. That great personage was no absolute Jew, and did not cheather in making the bargain more than was tolerable. He even gave herpermission to tenant the house in which she had lived with her husband,as long as it should be "tenantable;" only he protested against payingfor a farthing of repairs, any benevolence which he possessed being ofthe passive, but by no means of the active mood.
In the meanwhile, from superior shrewdness, skill, and othercircumstances, some of them purely accidental, Davie Deans gained afooting in the world, the possession of some wealth, the reputation ofmore, and a growing disposition to preserve and increase his store; forwhich, when he thought upon it seriously, he was inclined to blamehimself. From his knowledge in agriculture, as it was then practised, hebecame a sort of favourite with the Laird, who had no great pleasureeither in active sports or in society, and was wont to end his dailysaunter by calling at the cottage of Woodend.
Being himself a man of slow ideas and confused utterance, Dumbiedikesused to sit or stand for half-an-hour with an old laced hat of hisfather's upon his head, and an empty tobacco-pipe in his mouth, with hiseyes following Jeanie Deans, or "the lassie" as he called her, throughthe course of her daily domestic labour; while her father, afterexhausting the subject of bestial, of ploughs, and of harrows, often tookan opportunity of going full-sail into controversial subjects, to whichdiscussions the dignitary listened with much seeming patience, b
utwithout making any reply, or, indeed, as most people thought, withoutunderstanding a single word of what the orator was saying. Deans, indeed,denied this stoutly, as an insult at once to his own talents forexpounding hidden truths, of which he was a little vain, and to theLaird's capacity of understanding them. He said, "Dumbiedikes was nane ofthese flashy gentles, wi' lace on their skirts and swords at their tails,that were rather for riding on horseback to hell than gauging barefootedto heaven. He wasna like his father--nae profane company-keeper--naeswearer--nae drinker--nae frequenter of play-house, or music-house, ordancing-house--nae Sabbath-breaker--nae imposer of aiths, or bonds, ordenier of liberty to the flock.--He clave to the warld, and the warld'sgear, a wee ower muckle, but then there was some breathing of a gale uponhis spirit," etc. etc. All this honest Davie said and believed.
It is not to be supposed, that, by a father and a man of sense andobservation, the constant direction of the Laird's eyes towards Jeaniewas altogether unnoticed. This circumstance, however, made a much greaterimpression upon another member of his family, a second helpmate, to wit,whom he had chosen to take to his bosom ten years after the death of hisfirst. Some people were of opinion, that Douce Davie had been rathersurprised into this step, for, in general, he was no friend to marriagesor giving in marriage, and seemed rather to regard that state of societyas a necessary evil,--a thing lawful, and to be tolerated in theimperfect state of our nature, but which clipped the wings with which weought to soar upwards, and tethered the soul to its mansion of clay, andthe creature-comforts of wife and bairns. His own practice, however, hadin this material point varied from his principles, since, as we haveseen, he twice knitted for himself this dangerous and ensnaringentanglement.
Rebecca, his spouse, had by no means the same horror of matrimony, and asshe made marriages in imagination for every neighbour round, she failednot to indicate a match betwixt Dumbiedikes and her step-daughter Jeanie.The goodman used regularly to frown and pshaw whenever this topic wastouched upon, but usually ended by taking his bonnet and walking out ofthe house, to conceal a certain gleam of satisfaction, which, at such asuggestion, involuntarily diffused itself over his austere features.
The more youthful part of my readers may naturally ask, whether JeanieDeans was deserving of this mute attention of the Laird of Dumbiedikes;and the historian, with due regard to veracity, is compelled to answer,that her personal attractions were of no uncommon description. She wasshort, and rather too stoutly made for her size, had grey eyes, lightcoloured hair, a round good-humoured face, much tanned with the sun, andher only peculiar charm was an air of inexpressible serenity, which agood conscience, kind feelings, contented temper, and the regulardischarge of all her duties, spread over her features. There was nothing,it may be supposed, very appalling in the form or manners of this rusticheroine; yet, whether from sheepish bashfulness, or from want of decisionand imperfect knowledge of his own mind on the subject, the Laird ofDumbiedikes, with his old laced hat and empty tobacco-pipe, came andenjoyed the beatific vision of Jeanie Deans day after day, week afterweek, year after year, without proposing to accomplish any of theprophecies of the stepmother.
This good lady began to grow doubly impatient on the subject, when, afterhaving been some years married, she herself presented Douce Davie withanother daughter, who was named Euphemia, by corruption, Effie. It wasthen that Rebecca began to turn impatient with the slow pace at which theLaird's wooing proceeded, judiciously arguing, that, as Lady Dumbiedikeswould have but little occasion for tocher, the principal part of hergudeman's substance would naturally descend to the child by the secondmarriage. Other step-dames have tried less laudable means for clearingthe way to the succession of their own children; but Rebecca, to do herjustice, only sought little Effie's advantage through the promotion, orwhich must have generally been accounted such, of her elder sister. Shetherefore tried every female art within the compass of her simple skill,to bring the Laird to a point; but had the mortification to perceive thather efforts, like those of an unskilful angler, only scared the trout shemeant to catch. Upon one occasion, in particular, when she joked with theLaird on the propriety of giving a mistress to the house of Dumbiedikes,he was so effectually startled, that neither laced hat, tobacco-pipe, northe intelligent proprietor of these movables, visited Woodend for afortnight. Rebecca was therefore compelled to leave the Laird to proceedat his own snail's pace, convinced, by experience, of the grave-digger'saphorism, that your dull ass will not mend his pace for beating.
Reuben, in the meantime, pursued his studies at the university, supplyinghis wants by teaching the younger lads the knowledge he himself acquired,and thus at once gaining the means of maintaining himself at the seat oflearning, and fixing in his mind the elements of what he had alreadyobtained. In this manner, as is usual among the poorer students ofdivinity at Scottish universities, he contrived not only to maintainhimself according to his simple wants, but even to send considerableassistance to his sole remaining parent, a sacred duty, of which theScotch are seldom negligent. His progress in knowledge of a general kind,as well as in the studies proper to his profession, was veryconsiderable, but was little remarked, owing to the retired modesty ofhis disposition, which in no respect qualified him to set off hislearning to the best advantage. And thus, had Butler been a man given tomake complaints, he had his tale to tell, like others, of unjustpreferences, bad luck, and hard usage. On these subjects, however, he washabitually silent, perhaps from modesty, perhaps from a touch of pride,or perhaps from a conjunction of both.
He obtained his license as a preacher of the gospel, with somecompliments from the Presbytery by whom it was bestowed; but this did notlead to any preferment, and he found it necessary to make the cottage atBeersheba his residence for some months, with no other income than wasafforded by the precarious occupation of teaching in one or other of theneighbouring families. After having greeted his aged grandmother, hisfirst visit was to Woodend, where he was received by Jeanie with warmcordiality, arising from recollections which had never been dismissedfrom her mind, by Rebecca with good-humoured hospitality, and by oldDeans in a mode peculiar to himself.
Highly as Douce Davie honoured the clergy, it was not upon eachindividual of the cloth that he bestowed his approbation; and, a littlejealous, perhaps, at seeing his youthful acquaintance erected into thedignity of a teacher and preacher, he instantly attacked him upon variouspoints of controversy, in order to discover whether he might not havefallen into some of the snares, defections, and desertions of the time.Butler was not only a man of stanch Presbyterian principles, but was alsowilling to avoid giving pain to his old friend by disputing upon pointsof little importance; and therefore he might have hoped to have come likefine gold out of the furnace of Davie's interrogatories. But the resulton the mind of that strict investigator was not altogether so favourableas might have been hoped and anticipated. Old Judith Butler, who hadhobbled that evening as far as Woodend, in order to enjoy thecongratulations of her neighbours upon Reuben's return, and upon his highattainments, of which she was herself not a little proud, was somewhatmortified to find that her old friend Deans did not enter into thesubject with the warmth she expected. At first, in he seemed rathersilent than dissatisfied; and it was not till Judith had essayed thesubject more than once that it led to the following dialogue.
"Aweel, neibor Deans, I thought ye wad hae been glad to see Reuben amangus again, poor fellow."
"I _am_ glad, Mrs. Butler," was the neighbour's concise answer.
"Since he has lost his grandfather and his father (praised be Him thatgiveth and taketh!), I ken nae friend he has in the world that's been saelike a father to him as the sell o'ye, neibor Deans."
"God is the only father of the fatherless," said Deans, touching hisbonnet and looking upwards. "Give honour where it is due, gudewife, andnot to an unworthy instrument."
"Aweel, that's your way o' turning it, and nae doubt ye ken best; but Ihae ken'd ye, Davie, send a forpit o' meal to Beersheba when there wasnaa bow left in the meal-
ark at Woodend; ay, and I hae ken'd ye"
"Gudewife," said Davie, interrupting her, "these are but idle tales totell me; fit for naething but to puff up our inward man wi' our ain vainacts. I stude beside blessed Alexander Peden, when I heard him call thedeath and testimony of our happy martyrs but draps of blude and scarts ofink in respect of fitting discharge of our duty; and what suld I think ofony thing the like of me can do?"
"Weel, neibor Deans, ye ken best; but I maun say that, I am sure you areglad to see my bairn again--the halt's gane now, unless he has to walkower mony miles at a stretch; and he has a wee bit colour in his cheek,that glads my auld een to see it; and he has as decent a black coat asthe minister; and"
"I am very heartily glad he is weel and thriving," said Mr. Deans, with agravity that seemed intended to cut short the subject; but a woman who isbent upon a point is not easily pushed aside from it.
"And," continued Mrs. Butler, "he can wag his head in a pulpit now,neibor Deans, think but of that--my ain oe--and a'body maun sit still andlisten to him, as if he were the Paip of Rome."
"The what?--the who?--woman!" said Deans, with a sternness far beyond hisusual gravity, as soon as these offensive words had struck upon thetympanum of his ear.
"Eh, guide us!" said the poor woman; "I had forgot what an ill will yehad aye at the Paip, and sae had my puir gudeman, Stephen Butler. Mony anafternoon he wad sit and take up his testimony again the Paip, and againbaptizing of bairns, and the like."
"Woman!" reiterated Deans, "either speak about what ye ken something o',or be silent; I say that independency is a foul heresy, and anabaptism adamnable and deceiving error, whilk suld be rooted out of the land wi'the fire o' the spiritual, and the sword o' the civil magistrate."
"Weel, weel, neibor, I'll no say that ye mayna be right," answered thesubmissive Judith. "I am sure ye are right about the sawing and themawing, the shearing and the leading, and what for suld ye no be rightabout kirkwark, too?--But concerning my oe, Reuben Butler"
"Reuben Butler, gudewife," said David, with solemnity, "is a lad I wishheartily weel to, even as if he were mine ain son--but I doubt there willbe outs and ins in the track of his walk. I muckle fear his gifts willget the heels of his grace. He has ower muckle human wit and learning,and thinks as muckle about the form of the bicker as he does about thehealsomeness of the food--he maun broider the marriage-garment with laceand passments, or it's no gude eneugh for him. And it's like he'ssomething proud o' his human gifts and learning, whilk enables him todress up his doctrine in that fine airy dress. But," added he, at seeingthe old woman's uneasiness at his discourse, "affliction may gie him ajagg, and let the wind out o' him, as out o' a cow that's eaten wetclover, and the lad may do weel, and be a burning and a shining light;and I trust it will be yours to see, and his to feel it, and that soon."
Widow Butler was obliged to retire, unable to make anything more of herneighbour, whose discourse, though she did not comprehend it, filled herwith undefined apprehensions on her grandson's account, and greatlydepressed the joy with which she had welcomed him on his return. And itmust not be concealed, in justice to Mr. Deans's discernment, thatButler, in their conference, had made a greater display of his learningthan the occasion called for, or than was likely to be acceptable to theold man, who, accustomed to consider himself as a person preeminentlyentitled to dictate upon theological subjects of controversy, felt ratherhumbled and mortified when learned authorities were placed in arrayagainst him. In fact, Butler had not escaped the tinge of pedantry whichnaturally flowed from his education, and was apt, on many occasions, tomake parade of his knowledge, when there was no need of such vanity.
Jeanie Deans, however, found no fault with this display of learning, but,on the contrary, admired it; perhaps on the same score that her sex aresaid to admire men of courage, on account of their own deficiency in thatqualification. The circumstances of their families threw the young peopleconstantly together; their old intimacy was renewed, though upon afooting better adapted to their age; and it became at length understoodbetwixt them, that their union should be deferred no longer than untilButler should obtain some steady means of support, however humble. This,however, was not a matter speedily to be accomplished. Plan after planwas formed, and plan after plan failed. The good-humoured cheek of Jeanielost the first flush of juvenile freshness; Reuben's brow assumed thegravity of manhood, yet the means of obtaining a settlement seemed remoteas ever. Fortunately for the lovers, their passion was of no ardent orenthusiastic cast; and a sense of duty on both sides induced them tobear, with patient fortitude, the protracted interval which divided themfrom each other.
In the meanwhile, time did not roll on without effecting his usualchanges. The widow of Stephen Butler, so long the prop of the family ofBeersheba, was gathered to her fathers; and Rebecca, the careful spouseof our friend Davie Deans, wa's also summoned from her plans ofmatrimonial and domestic economy. The morning after her death, ReubenButler went to offer his mite of consolation to his old friend andbenefactor. He witnessed, on this occasion, a remarkable struggle betwixtthe force of natural affection and the religious stoicism which thesufferer thought it was incumbent upon him to maintain under each earthlydispensation, whether of weal or woe.
On his arrival at the cottage, Jeanie, with her eyes overflowing withtears, pointed to the little orchard, "in which," she whispered withbroken accents, "my poor father has been since his misfortune." Somewhatalarmed at this account, Butler entered the orchard, and advanced slowlytowards his old friend, who, seated in a small rude arbour, appeared tobe sunk in the extremity of his affliction. He lifted his eyes somewhatsternly as Butler approached, as if offended at the interruption; but asthe young man hesitated whether he ought to retreat or advance, he arose,and came forward to meet him with a self-possessed, and even dignifiedair.
"Young man," said the sufferer, "lay it not to heart, though therighteous perish, and the merciful are removed, seeing, it may well besaid, that they are taken away from the evils to come. Woe to me were Ito shed a tear for the wife of my bosom, when I might weep rivers ofwater for this afflicted Church, cursed as it is with carnal seekers, andwith the dead of heart."
"I am happy," said Butler, "that you can forget your private afflictionin your regard for public duty."
"Forget, Reuben?" said poor Deans, putting his handkerchief to hiseyes--"She's not to be forgotten on this side of time; but He that givesthe wound can send the ointment. I declare there have been times duringthis night when my meditation hae been so rapt, that I knew not of myheavy loss. It has been with me as with the worthy John Semple, calledCarspharn John,* upon a like trial--I have been this night on the banksof Ulai, plucking an apple here and there!"
* Note E. Carspharn John.
Notwithstanding the assumed fortitude of Deans, which he conceived to bethe discharge of a great Christian duty, he had too good a heart not tosuffer deeply under this heavy loss. Woodend became altogetherdistasteful to him; and as he had obtained both substance and experienceby his management of that little farm, he resolved to employ them as adairy-farmer, or cowfeeder, as they are called in Scotland. The situationhe chose for his new settlement was at a place called Saint Leonard'sCrags, lying betwixt Edinburgh and the mountain called Arthur's Seat, andadjoining to the extensive sheep pasture still named the King's Park,from its having been formerly dedicated to the preservation of the royalgame. Here he rented a small lonely house, about half-a-mile distant fromthe nearest point of the city, but the site of which, with all theadjacent ground, is now occupied by the buildings which form thesoutheastern suburb. An extensive pasture-ground adjoining, which Deansrented from the keeper of the Royal Park, enabled him to feed hismilk-cows; and the unceasing industry and activity of Jeanie, his oldestdaughter, were exerted in making the most of their produce.
She had now less frequent opportunities of seeing Reuben, who had beenobliged, after various disappointments, to accept the subordinatesituation of assistant in a parochial school of some eminence, at threeor four m
iles' distance from the city. Here he distinguished himself, andbecame acquainted with several respectable burgesses, who, on account ofhealth, or other reasons, chose that their children should commence theireducation in this little village. His prospects were thus graduallybrightening, and upon each visit which he paid at Saint Leonard's he hadan opportunity of gliding a hint to this purpose into Jeanie's ear. Thesevisits were necessarily very rare, on account of the demands which theduties of the school made upon Butler's time. Nor did he dare to makethem even altogether so frequent as these avocations would permit. Deansreceived him with civility indeed, and even with kindness; but Reuben, asis usual in such cases, imagined that he read his purpose in his eyes,and was afraid too premature an explanation on the subject would drawdown his positive disapproval. Upon the whole, therefore, he judged itprudent to call at Saint Leonard's just so frequently as old acquaintanceand neighbourhood seemed to authorise, and no oftener. There was anotherperson who was more regular in his visits.
The Laird in Jeanie's Cottage--130]
When Davie Deans intimated to the Laird of Dumbiedikes his purpose of"quitting wi' the land and house at Woodend," the Laird stared and saidnothing. He made his usual visits at the usual hour without remark, untilthe day before the term, when, observing the bustle of moving furniturealready commenced, the great east-country _awmrie_ dragged out of itsnook, and standing with its shoulder to the company, like an awkwardbooby about to leave the room, the Laird again stared mightily, and washeard to ejaculate,--"Hegh, sirs!" Even after the day of departure waspast and gone, the Laird of Dumbiedikes, at his usual hour, which wasthat at which David Deans was wont to "loose the pleugh," presentedhimself before the closed door of the cottage at Woodend, and seemed asmuch astonished at finding it shut against his approach as if it was notexactly what he had to expect. On this occasion he was heard toejaculate, "Gude guide us!" which, by those who knew him, was consideredas a very unusual mark of emotion. From that moment forward Dumbiedikesbecame an altered man, and the regularity of his movements, hitherto soexemplary, was as totally disconcerted as those of a boy's watch when hehas broken the main-spring. Like the index of the said watch didDumbiedikes spin round the whole bounds of his little property, which maybe likened unto the dial of the timepiece, with unwonted velocity. Therewas not a cottage into which he did not enter, nor scarce a maiden onwhom he did not stare. But so it was, that although there were betterfarm-houses on the land than Woodend, and certainly much prettier girlsthan Jeanie Deans, yet it did somehow befall that the blank in theLaird's time was not so pleasantly filled up as it had been. There was noseat accommodated him so well as the "bunker" at Woodend, and no face heloved so much to gaze on as Jeanie Deans's. So, after spinning round andround his little orbit, and then remaining stationary for a week, itseems to have occurred to him that he was not pinned down to circulate ona pivot, like the hands of the watch, but possessed the power of shiftinghis central point, and extending his circle if he thought proper. Torealise which privilege of change of place, he bought a pony from aHighland drover, and with its assistance and company stepped, or ratherstumbled, as far as Saint Leonard's Crags.
Jeanie Deans, though so much accustomed to the Laird's staring that shewas sometimes scarce conscious of his presence, had nevertheless someoccasional fears lest he should call in the organ of speech to back thoseexpressions of admiration which he bestowed on her through his eyes.Should this happen, farewell, she thought, to all chance of a union withButler. For her father, however stouthearted and independent in civil andreligious principles, was not without that respect for the laird of theland, so deeply imprinted on the Scottish tenantry of the period.Moreover, if he did not positively dislike Butler, yet his fund of carnallearning was often the object of sarcasms on David's part, which wereperhaps founded in jealousy, and which certainly indicated no partialityfor the party against whom they were launched. And lastly, the match withDumbiedikes would have presented irresistible charms to one who used tocomplain that he felt himself apt to take "ower grit an armfu' o' thewarld." So that, upon the whole, the Laird's diurnal visits weredisagreeable to Jeanie from apprehension of future consequences, and itserved much to console her, upon removing from the spot where she wasbred and born, that she had seen the last of Dumbiedikes, his laced hat,and tobacco-pipe. The poor girl no more expected he could muster courageto follow her to Saint Leonard's Crags than that any of her apple-treesor cabbages which she had left rooted in the "yard" at Woodend, wouldspontaneously, and unaided, have undertaken the same journey. It wastherefore with much more surprise than pleasure that, on the sixth dayafter their removal to Saint Leonard's, she beheld Dumbiedikes arrive,laced hat, tobacco-pipe, and all, and, with the self-same greeting of"How's a' wi' ye, Jeanie?--Whare's the gudeman?" assume as nearly as hecould the same position in the cottage at Saint Leonard's which he had solong and so regularly occupied at Woodend. He was no sooner, however,seated, than with an unusual exertion of his powers of conversation, headded, "Jeanie--I say, Jeanie, woman"--here he extended his hand towardsher shoulder with all the fingers spread out as if to clutch it, but inso bashful and awkward a manner, that when she whisked herself beyond itsreach, the paw remained suspended in the air with the palm open, like theclaw of a heraldic griffin--"Jeanie," continued the swain in this momentof inspiration--"I say, Jeanie, it's a braw day out-by, and the roads areno that ill for boot-hose."
Jeanie--I say, Jeanie, woman--133
"The deil's in the daidling body," muttered Jeanie between her teeth;"wha wad hae thought o' his daikering out this length?" And sheafterwards confessed that she threw a little of this ungracious sentimentinto her accent and manner; for her father being abroad, and the "body,"as she irreverently termed the landed proprietor, "looking unco gleg andcanty, she didna ken what he might be coming out wi' next."
Her frowns, however, acted as a complete sedative, and the Laird relapsedfrom that day into his former taciturn habits, visiting the cowfeeder'scottage three or four times every week, when the weather permitted, withapparently no other purpose than to stare at Jeanie Deans, while DouceDavie poured forth his eloquence upon the controversies and testimoniesof the day.