Chapter XIV: Sir Peter and Lady Drum

Coquette, sitting quietly in the general parlour, the Minister being busy with his reading, heard voices in the hall, and one of them startled her. Indeed, she suddenly put her hand to her heart, having felt a quick flutter, as of pain; and a tinge of colour came to her pale face. The next moment Leezibeth announced Sir Peter and Lady Drum, and Lord Earlshope; and these three entered the room.

Sir Peter was a short, stout, rosy-cheeked, and fair-haired man, who wore a suit of light grey, and had a big diamond ring on his finger. There was a pleasant expression in his face; a frolicsome look in his eyes; and his talk, which was as often as not a monologue addressed to himself, was interrupted by his humming snatches of gay airs, addressed to the window, or the fireplace, or the picture at which he chanced to be looking. On this occasion, however, he had duties to perform; he went briskly forward to shake hands with the Minister; he was introduced to Coquette; and then, and with some merry little remark, he led forward his wife to the young girl.

Coquette found herself confronted by a most striking-looking woman--one who might have sat for a picture of a great lady of the last century. Lady Drum was a tall, elderly, upright person, with a keen face which was yet kindly in the severity of its features, and with a fine head of grey hair, elaborately arranged. Lady Drum was widely known in the neighbourhood for her inflexible judgments on people's conduct, her generous but scrupulously calculated aid to all who were in heed, and her skill in medicine, which she loved to practise; and it was a popular mystery how this stately and imposing lady could have married the gay little gentleman who was now her husband. Yet they agreed remarkably well, and seemed to have a mutual esteem for each other. She bore with great equanimity his perpetual jokes, his ceaseless and rambling talk, his irrelevant tunes and airs; while he was fond to address her as his "jewel," and declare that she had saved his life twenty times with her physic. Of all the families in the county the Drums were the only people whom Lord Earlshope was ever known to visit; and his regard and liking for the grave and noble-looking lady of Castle Cawmil had even led him to permit himself to be dosed and doctored upon occasions. Sometimes they corresponded; and the contents of Lady Drum's letters chiefly consisted in motherly advice about the use of flannel in spring time, and the great virtues of some new herb she had discovered. As for Sir Peter, Earlshope seldom saw him when he visited Castle Cawmil. Sir Peter was anywhere--everywhere--but in his own house. He flitted about the country, enjoying himself wherever he went; for the number of his friends was legion; while Lady Drum attended to her poultry-yard and her patients at home.

Coquette found fixed upon her a pair of severe and scrutinising eyes; but there was something in the appearance of the tall, grey-haired woman which she could not help admiring and even liking. When she spoke--which she did in a grave and deliberate fashion, with a considerably marked Scotch accent--her voice had all the softness which her features lacked.

"I hope you will find Airlie a pleasant place," said Lady Drum, still retaining Coquette's hand.

"Dull--dull--dull," said Sir Peter, looking out of the window, and humming to himself. "Very dull--very dull--very dull. Ha, ha! Hm, hm! Ha, ha!"

"And we shall hope to see you often at Castle Cawmil," continued Lady Drum.

"I thank you," said Coquette, simply, but making no promise.

Lady Drum at once turned to the Minister.

"Your housekeeper has been telling me that your niece is very much in want of a change. I can see it. The wet weather has kept her indoors. She wants to be sent out into the air, with companions and amusement; and I would even recommend a little tansy or, perhaps, gentian root. If she were with me for a week or two I might try the Caribbean cinchona, which has proved an excellent tonic within my own experience; but as for horse-chestnut bark, which some prefer to use, I do not hold wi' that in any case. Lord Earlshope will tell ye, Mr. Cassilis, that the Caribbean cinchona----"

"Did me a world of good," said Lord Earlshope. "Indeed I was quite ashamed to get well so rapidly, and deprive my amiable physician of the chance of watching the effects of her cure. In fact, I got so ridiculously well that I had no occasion to drink any of the coltsfoot wine that Lady Drum was good enough to send me. Shall I transfer it to you, Miss Cassilis, when you become one of Lady Drum's patients?"

"I will take it--if it is nice," said Coquette.

Lady Drum did not like this way of treating the subject, especially as her husband was moving about the room from place to place, and humming a series of reflections on physic generally, which interfered with the dignity of the situation.

"Fine thing, physic--grand thing, physic--hm! hm!--old woman comes and gets her physic, and sixpence--hm, ha!--drinks the sixpence, and flings away the physic--with a 'God bless all doctors--if possible.' Hm, hm! hm, hm! ha, ha! Capital garden that of yours, Mr. Cassilis--capital--too much like a wilderness, perhaps. Got the old pony in the stables yet--old Bess with the swallow-tail? Remember how the Hielandman thought the flicht o' a swallow was like a squint lum?"

"What is that?" said Earlshope.

"Untranslatable--untranslatable," carolled Sir Peter. "'Bekass it wass a crookit flue.' More untranslatable still, isn't it? We must be going, my lady."

But my lady had got into a very confidential chat with Coquette, and had even aired a few French phrases to show that she had been used to polite accomplishments in her youth. She had been to Paris, also; had seen the Place de la Bastille; and considered herself profound in the history of the capital. Their talk, nevertheless, was chiefly of Airlie, and of Coquette's experiences there.

"I did like the place better when I came here," said the girl. "Much better. Yet, it is pretty, you know--when there is sun, and it is not cold. It is always the same thing at Airlie--the same place, the same people, the same things to do each day. That is tiresome when one is indoors in the rain--when one is out in good days there is variety. If you will let me visit you, I shall be joyous--joyful--no, I mean I shall be glad to visit you and see you. And will you come to Airlie often? I have no lady-friend in this country, you know--only my uncle and the boys--and if you will be so kind to come and see me, it will be a great pleasure to me."

"But I am an old woman," said Lady Drum. "I should be a poor companion for you."

"But I have always lived with old people," said Coquette, somewhat too bluntly; "I do like old people better than young."

Lady Drum was puzzled. Why did this young creature talk so sadly, and show none of the liveliness and hope natural to her age? Surely, with her graceful and well-formed figure, her clear dark eyes, and the healthy red of her lips that were obviously meant to laugh, she ought to have plenty of spirit and life? Lady Drum had never seen the true Coquette--the Coquette to whom every day was a holiday, and every incident in it a glad experience; but she half divined that the pale, pretty, dark-eyed girl who sat beside her, and who had an ease of manner which was the perfection of simplicity, was not strung up to her natural pitch of health and enjoyment. Lady Drum had never heard Coquette laugh in the open air, or sing to herself in the garden; but she had a suspicion that the beauty of the girl's face was paler than it ought to be.

"Quassia!" said Lady Drum suddenly, and Coquette looked startled; but presently the other said--"No. We must try something else first. Castle Cawmil would be tiresome just now, with an old woman like me in it. By and by, my lassie, you must come and see me when I have got together some young folks; and we shall have half the gentlemen in Ayrshire fighting for the first quadrille."

"Is there dancing at your house?" said Coquette, with interest.

"Dancing! Yes, as much dancing as young lassocks like you should have--wha will not be persuaded to take any other sort o' exercise."

"I was told it was evil here," said Coquette, remembering certain of Leezibeth's orations.

"Evil! evil!" said Lady Drum. "If there was much evil in it, it wouldna set its foot within my doors. But then, ye see, Miss Cassilis, this is a minister's house, and a minister must be discreet--no to give offence, as it were."

She turned to Lord Earlshope, who had been conversing with the Minister. "Lord Earlshope, do ye mind that you pressed me to make use of your yacht when occasion suited?"

"Certainly I do," said Earlshope. "She is quite at your service--always; and just at present she is in capital cruising order. Do you propose to take Miss Cassilis for a run up some of the lochs?"

"Indeed, it was the very thing I was thinking of," said Lady Drum.

"Then you have only to drive to Ardrossan any day you choose, and give Maxwell his sailing orders. He is a steady old fellow, and will take every care of you."

Coquette listened mutely, with her eyes fixed on the ground. Lord Earlshope, then, proposed that she and Lady Drum should go by themselves?--she did not think it very civil.

"I had some notion of asking Mr. Cassilis to form a party and go for a short cruise, but I dismissed it as chimerical. Perhaps you will be more successful if you try."

"Now tell me," said Lady Drum, with a business-like air, "how many you can take on board."

"Why, half the population of Airlie, or thereabouts. But there is one very grand state-room which you ladies could share between you; and as for your gentlemen friends, you might ask as many as had been accustomed to the exigencies of yachts--myself among the number, I hope. As for Sir Peter----"

"No, no, no!" cried Sir Peter, gaily. "No yachting for me--sleeping in a hole--washing out of a tea-cup--wet to the skin all day--ha, ha! hm, hm! ha, ha! No yachting for me--off to Peebles on Tuesday--then back to Edinburgh the week after--my lady may go if she likes."

"Mr. Cassilis, may we reckon on you?" said Lady Drum, severely ignoring her husband's volatility. "Your niece demands some change of the kind; and I have entered into a contract long ago with Lord Earlshope about the yacht."

"You need not be frightened by what Sir Peter says," observed Lord Earlshope, with a smile. "On board a sixty-ton yacht you are not put to such dreadful inconveniences. Shall I add my entreaties to those of Lady Drum? If you could get away from your duties for a week or two, it would be a pleasant holiday at this season; and, if you like, I will go with you for a few days, to see you all comfortably settled."

There was positively a blush on the pale grey face of the Minister. The notion of taking a holiday for the mere purpose of pleasure was quite startling to him--had, in fact, something uncanny about it. If the proposal, indeed, had not been made in the first instance by Lady Drum--whose decision as to matters of propriety was law throughout the district--he would not even have considered it for a moment.

"I cannot give an answer out-of-hand," he said, gravely, and yet with some hesitation. "Doubtless it is a tempting and a kind offer; but there are other obligations binding on us than our own wishes----"

"Now, Mr. Cassilis," said Lady Drum, "have you not mentioned to me that you greatly hoped for some opportunity of giving young Mr. M'Alister your pulpit for the day--an honour that he has fairly set his heart on?"

"But I should like to be present to witness his trial," said the Minister, fighting against himself.

"Ye may trust him--ye may trust him," said Lady Drum, decisively. "He is as safe as an auld horse with blinders on. No fear o' him alarming the congregation wi' new doctrine--he hasna spunk enough to be dangerous."

This somewhat doubtful testimony to the intellectual qualifications of the young man carried some weight, evidently, and Mr. Cassilis then turned to his niece.

"Catherine," said he, solemnly, "you have heard Lady Drum's proposal--would it please you to go?"

"Oh, very much," said Coquette, "if--if my cousin could also go."

The Minister stared: how had the Whaup come to be of such consequence?

"Do you mean my friend Tom?" said Lord Earlshope. "Why, of course he can go. There is nothing to hinder him."

Coquette was very grateful; and though she did not put her gratitude into words, there was a brighter look on her face than had been there for many a day. The Minister said he would consider the matter; and--if he saw that his duties to his parishioners would not suffer--he hoped to be able to take his niece on this voyage of health.

When the visitors had gone, Coquette went outside to look for the Whaup. She found him in the garden--inclined to resume his attitude of hostility on account of this appearance of Earlshope at the Manse.

"Tom," she said, "I do wish to speak to you--to ask why you avoid me--when you were my good companion for a long time. Why should we quarrel?"

"Quarrel!" said the Whaup--as if he scorned the idea of his bothering himself to quarrel with anybody--"I haven't quarrelled; I haven't time to quarrel. But I suppose you are come to be penitent and all that; and probably you will cry. I don't like to see you cry; so I'll make friends at once if you like."

"Is that how you do make friends in Scotland?" said Coquette, with a laugh in her eyes,--"standing a yard off--looking fierce--and speaking harsh."

"Oh, I will kiss you, if you like," said the Whaup, bluntly, and he advanced for that purpose.

"No," said Coquette, with the least change of manner--and yet that delicate alteration in her tone and look protected her as though with a wall of iron. "I did not ask you. But I have something to say of very much importance--oh! such great importance! And I wish you to be kind as you once were--but I am afraid on this day. It is too cold--too dull. On a clear day you would say yes."

"Don't talk so much, but tell me what it is," said the Whaup. He was warding off, rudely, the insidious attacks of his too pretty cousin.

"It is proposed we all go with Lord Earlshope's yacht on a long voyage round the Islands--your papa and Lady Drum, and me, too; and it depends if you will go that I will go."

"I go!" said the Whaup, with a burst of laughter. "In Earlshope's yacht! You must be mad!"

"If you do not go, I will not go," said Coquette, simply.

"Perhaps it is better you shouldn't go," said the Whaup.

"Perhaps it is," said Coquette, turning away towards the house.

The Whaup looked after her for a moment; then he followed her.

"Look here--what do you want to go for?" he asked.

"I thought it would be pleasurable--the amusement, the going away from this place a few days--the whole of us together. But I am not anxious--I can stay at home."

"Why can't you go without me?" said he.

"I wanted you for a companion," said Coquette, looking down. "There will be nobody but your papa and Lady Drum--Lord Earlshope only comes for a day or two, to see us off."

He looked at her downcast face in a scrutinising way--he was not sure about her.

"You know, I don't believe in you as I did at one time. People who deceive you once will deceive you again," he said.

She looked up with an angry glance; and bitter tears sprang to her eyes.

"How can you say that?" she said, indignantly. "You are too hard--you have no mercy--you expect everyone to be as rude as yourself. If you do not believe me, it is no matter to me; I can believe myself--that is enough."

With these words, she was again turning proudly away, when he caught her by the hand and stopped her.

"You are a very peculiar young woman," he said. "You are always firing off somehow or other--always very delighted or else very miserable. Why don't you take things coolly, as I do? I don't say you're very bad because you went in for little trifling useless bits of deceit. I suppose every woman does that--it's their nature, and it's no use grumbling. If you had any sense, you'd dry your eyes, get something on your head, and come and see us dig up a bees' nest that I have found."

"Yes, I will do that," she said, adding timidly--"and about the yacht--I am not to go?"

He looked in her eyes just then; and, oddly enough, that glance somehow made him aware that he was holding her hand--a little, white hand, that had a couple of slender rings on one of the fingers. He dropped the hand at once; was uncomfortable and shy for a moment; and then said desperately, "Yes, I will go."

There was a flush of colour and gladness passed over the pale face; and she lifted his hand suddenly and pressed it to her lips. Then she ran into the house, and presently reappeared with her hat and some loose white thing that she hurriedly flung round her neck. Her eyes were so bright and joyous that the Whaup looked at her with amazement.

In a secret corner the Whaup found his brothers, armed with large boughs. At once all set out for the moor where the bees' nest had been discovered; and the Whaup revealed to Coquette that his object in storming the nest was not merely to secure the little underground nuts of honey. A deed of vengeance had to be accomplished, and the captured bees were to aid in the task.

Now, Sir Peter and Lady Drum were returning to Earlshope for luncheon; but they went out of their way to call at a certain farm, the dairy-maid there being under her ladyship's treatment. It was when they had resumed their route, and were driving along the high moorland road, that they chanced to see in the distance a small procession of figures, carrying branches of trees.

"Why yonder is Coquette running and laughing!" said Lord Earlshope.

"Running and laughing?" said Lady Drum. "Has that dark-eyed little witch been cheating me?"