The car is ordered for four o"clock. I wish you would stay to tea, but I expect you are dying to get back to Priorsford. That little town has you in its thrall."
"I wish," said Jock, "that The Rigs could be lifted up by some magician and plumped down in Laverlaw Glen."
"Oh, Jock, wouldn"t that be fine?" sighed the Mhor. "Plumped right down at the side of the burn, and then we could fish out of the windows."
The sun had left the glen, the Laverlaw Water ran wan; it seemed suddenly to have become a wild and very lonely place.
"Now I can believe about the raiders coming over the hills in an autumn twilight," said Pamela. "There is something haunted about this place. In Priorsford we are all close together and cosy: that"s what I love about it."
"You"ve grown quite suburban," Lewis taunted her. "Jean, I was told a story about two Priorsford ladies the other day. They were in London and went to see Pavlova dance at the Palace, for the first time. It was her last appearance that season, and the curtain went down on Pavlova embedded in bouquets, bowing her thanks to an enraptured audience, the house rocking with enthusiasm. The one Priorsford lady turned to the other Priorsford lady and said, "Awfully like Mrs. Wishart!""
As the car moved off, Jock"s voice could be heard asking, "And who _was_ Mrs. Wishart?"
CHAPTER XIII
"Hast any philosophy in thee?"
_As You Like It_.
Miss Bella Bathgate was a staunch supporter of the Parish Kirk. She had no use for any other denomination, and no sympathy with any but the Presbyterian form of worship. Episcopalians she regarded as beneath contempt, and cla.s.sed them in her own mind with "Papists"--people who were more mischievous and almost as ignorant as "the heathen" for whom she collected small sums quarterly, and for whom the minister prayed as "sitting in darkness." Miss Bathgate had developed a real, if somewhat contemptuous, affection for Mawson, her lodger"s maid, but she never ceased to pour scorn on her "English ways" and her English worship. If Mawson had not been one of the gentlest of creatures she would not have tolerated it for a day.
One wet and windy evening Bella sat waiting for Mawson to come in to supper. She had gone to a week-night service at the church, greatly excited because the Bishop was to be present. The supper was ready and keeping hot in the oven, the fire sparkled in the bright range, and Bella sat crocheting and singing to herself, "From Greenland"s icy mountains." For Bella was pa.s.sionately interested in missions. The needs of the heathen lay on her heart. Every penny she could sc.r.a.pe together went into "the box." The War had reduced her small income, and she could no longer live without letting her rooms, but whatever she had to do without her contributions to missions never faltered; indeed, they had increased. Missions were the romance of her life. They put a scarlet thread into the grey. The one woman she had ever envied was Mary Slessor of Calabar.
Mawson came in much out of breath, having run up the hill to get out of the darkness.
"Weel, and hoo"s the Bishop?" Bella said in jocular tones.
"Ow, "e was lovely. "E said the Judgment was "anging over all of us."
"Oh, wumman," said Bella, as she dumped a loaf viciously on the platter, "d"ye need a Bishop to tell ye that? I"m sure I"ve kent it a" ma days."
"It gives me the creeps to think of it. Imagine standin" h"up before h"all the earth and "aving all your little bits o" sins fetched out against you! But"--hopefully--"I don"t see myself "ow there"ll be time."
"Ay, there"ll be time! There"ll be a" Eternity afore us, and as far as I can see there"ll be naething else to do."
"Ow," Mawson wailed. "You do make it sound so "orrid, Bella. The Bishop was much more comfortable, and "e "as such a nice rosy face you can"t picture anything very bad "appening to "im. But I suppose Bishops"ll be judged like everyone else."
"They will that." Bella"s tone was emphatic, almost vindictive.
"Oh, well," said Mawson, who looked consistently on the bright sides, "I dare say they won"t pay much h"attention to the likes of us when they"ve Kings and Bishops and M.P."s and London ladies to judge. Their sins will be a bit more interestin" than my little lot.... Well, I"ll be glad of a cup of tea, for it"s thirsty work listening to sermons. I"ll just lay me "at and coat down "ere, if you don"t mind, Bella. Now, this is cosy. I was thinkin" of this as I came paddin" over the bridge listening to the sound of the wind and the water. A river"s a frightenin" sort of thing at night and after "earin" about the Judgment too."
Miss Bathgate took a savoury-smelling dish from the oven and put it, along with two hot plates, before Mawson, then put the teapot before herself and they began.
"Whaur"s Miss Reston the nicht?" Bella asked, as she helped herself to hot b.u.t.tered toast.
"Dinin" with Sir John and Lady Tweedie. She"s wearin" a lovely new gown, sort of yellow. It suited her a treat. I must say she did look n.o.ble.
She is "andsome, don"t you think?"
"Terrible lang and lean," said Miss Bathgate. "But I"m no denyin" that there"s a kind o" look aboot her that"s no common. She would mak" a guid queen if we had ony need o" anither." "She makes a good mistress anyway," said loyal Mawson.
"Oh, she"s no bad," Bella admitted. "An" I must say she disna gie much trouble--but it"s an idle life for ony wumman. I canna see why Miss Reston, wi" a" her faculties aboot her, needs you hingin" round her.
Mercy me, what"s to hinder her pu"in ribbons through her ain underclothes, if ribbons are necessary, which they"re not. There"s Mrs.
Muir next door, wi" six bairns, an" a" the wark o" the hoose to dae an"
washin"s forbye, an" here"s Miss Reston never liftin" a finger except to pu" silk threads through a bit stuff. That"s what makes folk Socialists."
Mawson, who belonged to that fast disappearing body, the real servant cla.s.s, and who, without a thought of envy, delighted in the possession of her mistress, looked sadly puzzled.
"But, Beller, don"t you think things work out more h"even than they seem? Mrs. Muir next door works very "ard. I"ve seen her put out a washin" by seven o"clock in the morning, but then she "as a good "usband and an "ealthy family and much pleasure in "er work. Miss Reston lies soft and drinks her mornin" tea in comfort, but she never knows the satisfied feelin" that Mrs. Muir "as when she takes in "er clean clothes."
"Weel, mebbe you"re right. I"m nae Socialist masel". There maun aye be rich and poor, Dives in the big hoose and Lazarus at the gate. But so long as we"re sure that Dives"ll catch it in the end, and Lazarus lie soft in Abraham"s bosom, we can pit up wi" the unfairness here. An"
speakin" about Miss Reston, I dinna mind her no" working. Ye can see by the look of her that she never was meant to work, but just to get everything done for her. Can ye picture her peelin" tatties? The verra thocht"s rideeclus. She"s juist for lookin" at, like the floors and a"
the bonnie things ... But it"s thae new folk that pit up ma birse. That Mrs. Duff-Whalley, crouse cat! Rollin" aboot wrap up in furs in a great caur, patronisin" everybody that"s daft enough to let theirselves be patronised by her. Onybody could see she"s no used to it. She"s so ta"en up wi" hersel". It"s kinda play-actin" for her ... An" there"s naebody gives less to charitable objects. I suppose when ye"ve paid and fed sae mony servants, and dressed yersel" in silks and satins, and bocht every denty ye can think of, and kept up a great big hoose an" a great muckle caur, there"s no" that much left for the kirk-plate, or the heathen, or the hospitals ... Oh, it"s peetifu"!"
Mawson nodded wisely. "There"s plenty Mrs. Duff-Whalleys about; you be thankful you"ve only one in the place. Priorsford is a very charitable place, I think. The poor people here don"t know they"re born after London, and the clergy seem very active too."
"Oh, they are that. I daur say they"re as guid as is gaun. Mr. Morrison is a fine man if marriage disna ruin him."
"Oh, surely not!"
"There"s no sayin"," said Bella gloomily. "She"s young and flighty, but there"s wan thing, she has no money. I kent a minister--he was a kinda cousin o" ma father"s--an" he mairret a heiress and they had late denner. I tell ye that late denner was the ruin o" that man. It fair got between him an" his jidgment. He couldna veesit his folk at a wise-like hour in the evening because he was gaun to hev his denner, and he couldna get oot late because his leddy-wife wanted him to be at hame efter denner. There"s mony a thing to cause a minister to stumble, for they"re juist human beings after a", but his rich mairrage was John Allison"s undoing."
"Marriage," sighed Mawson, "is a great risk. It"s often as well to be single, but I sometimes think Providence must ha" meant me to "ave an "usband--I"m such a clingin" creature."
Such sentiments were most distasteful to Miss Bathgate, that self-reliant spinster, and she said bitterly:
"Ma wumman, ye"re ill off for something to cling to! I never saw the man yet that I wud be pitten up wi"."
"Ho! I shouldn"t say that, but I must say I couldn"t fancy a h"undertaker. Just imagine "im "andlin" the dead and then "andlin" me!"
"Eh, ye nesty cratur," said Bella, much disgusted "But I suppose ye"re meaning _English_ undertakers--men that does naething but work wi"
funerals--a fearsome ill job. Here it"s the jiner that does a" thing, so it"s faur mair homely."
"Speakin" about marriages," said Mawson, who preferred cheerful subjects, "I do enjoy a nice weddin". The motors and the bridesmaids and the flowers. Is there no chance of a weddin" "ere?"
Miss Bathgate shook her head.
"Why not Miss Jean?" Mawson suggested.
Again Miss Bathgate shook her head.
"Nae siller," she said briefly.
"What! No money, you mean? But h"every gentleman ain"t after money."
Mawson"s expression grew softly sentimental as she added, "Many a one marries for love, like the King and the beggar-maid."