Merkland: or, Self Sacrifice

Without was a merrier group. Lilie Rutherford, with her youthful gallant, Charlie Ferguson, now a High School boy, lodged in a closet of his brother Robert’s rooms, and frequent in his Saturday visits to Redheugh; and Lawrie, growing a young man now, as he thought, and dubious as to the propriety of keeping company with lesser boys and girls, to whom he was very patronizing and condescending, stood by the sun-dial; while in the background was Jacky, now waiting gentlewoman to Miss Lilias Rutherford, a very great person indeed, and little Bessie, young Mrs. Ross of Merkland’s own maid.

Lilie was coquetishly making inquiries of Bessie, touching the welfare of Harry Coulter, whereat Charlie Ferguson grew irate and sulky.

“And the young gentleman’s biding at the Tower,” said Bessie; “he’s a lord noo his ainsel – and he’s been twice at Harrows.”

“Who is that?” said little Lilie.

“Oh, if ye please, Miss Lilie,” said Jacky, “it’s a young gentleman that was a lord’s son, and now he’s a lord himsel – and he’s gaun to be married to Mr. Harry’s sister.”

“Eh, Jacky, what gars ye say such a thing?” cried Bessie. “If ye please, Miss Lilie, naebody kens – only he’s been twice at Harrows; but maybe he’s no courting Miss Coulter for a’ that.”

“I should think not,” exclaimed Charlie Ferguson, indignantly. “Ada Coulter married to a lord! Yes, indeed – and they can’t talk of a single thing at Harrows but fat pigs, and prize cattle, and ploughing matches. Why, Lilie, do you mind what Harry gave you when you were at Merkland – a plough! what can ladies do with ploughs?”

“Mrs. Catherine has a great many ploughs, Charlie,” said Lilie, gravely – ”and it was very good of Harry; and Mary and me might have played with it all our lane, and we would not have needed you. I dinna like boats – folk can plough at hame – but in boats they go over the sea.”

“And, eh, Jacky!” exclaimed Bessie, curiously, as Charlie followed his capricious liege lady, to efface if he could this unfortunate recollection of Harry Coulter and his gift – ”isna young Strathoran awfu’ often at Redheugh?”

“He’s here whiles,” said Jacky, briefly.

“Johnnie Halflin says,” said Bessie, “and it’s a’ through the parish – and folk say Mrs. Catherine’s just waiting for’t, and that it’s to be in the Tower, and Mr. Lumsden is to do it, and Mrs. Lumsden kens a’ about it – ”

“About what?”

“Oh, ye just ken better than me for a’ you’ll no say – just that young Strathoran’s coming out of yon muckle reekie Glasgow, hame to his ain house, and then he’s to be married to Miss Anne. Tell us, woman, Jacky – I’ll never tell a mortal body again, as sure as I’m living.”

Jacky’s dark face lighted up – she knew this secret would bear telling, even though Bessie broke faith.

“We’re a’ gaun to the Tower at the New year – like the time Redheugh came hame; Miss Lilie and Miss Anne, and a’ the house – and young Strathoran’s to be there too. And Miss Anne has gotten a grand goun, a’ of white silk, shining like the snaw below the moon, and a shawl – ye never saw the like o’t – it’s as lang as frae Merkland to the Tower. And maybe something will happen then, and maybe no – Miss Anne wasna gaun to tell me!”

THE END

notes

1

A diet of examination. One of the periodical visits made by Scottish clergymen in former times, during which the household, and especially its younger members, were examined on the “Shorter Catechism,” the universal text-book of Scottish Theology.