The news of the arrangement, when communicated to Doctor Denholm and George, at the funeral next day, produced on them very opposite effects. The minister, who was naturally of a warm and benevolent disposition, persuaded himself that the proposal of Walter, to receive his sister-in-law and her family, was dictated by a sense of duty and of religion, and regretted that he had so hastily expressed himself so strongly respecting his incapacity. Indeed, every one who heard the story put upon it nearly the same sort of construction, and applauded the uncouth kindness of the natural as brotherly and Christian.

George, however, saw it, perhaps, more correctly; but he was exceedingly disturbed by the favourable impression which it made on the minds of his acquaintance, and hesitated to indulge his desire to obtain the management of the estate. But still he continued his visits to Grippy, and took every opportunity of drawing the attention of his friends to the imbecility of his brother. Nothing, however, occurred to further his wishes till the term of Martinmas after the incident mentioned in the foregoing chapter; when, on receiving his rents, he presented his sister-in-law with a ten-pound note, at the same time counting out, to the calculation of a halfpenny, the balance he owed his mother of her jointure, but absolutely refusing to repay her any of the money she had, in the meantime, disbursed for different little household concerns and repairs, saying, that all she had laid out was nothing in comparison to what she was due for bed and board. This was the unkindest cut of all; for she justly and truly estimated her services to him as of far more value. However, she said nothing; but next day, on the pretext of going to see her mother, who was now very infirm, and unable to quit her chamber, she went to Glasgow and called on George, to whom she made a loud and long complaint of the insults she had received, and of the total unfitness and unworthiness of his brother to continue uncontrolled in the possession of the estate.

George sympathized with her sorrows and her sufferings like a dutiful son, and comforted her with the assurance that he would lose no time in taking some steps for her relief, and the preservation of the property. And, as she consented to remain that day to dinner, it was thought, considering the disposition Walter had shown to squander his gifts on his sister-in-law, without any consideration for the rest of the family, it might be as well to consult Mr. Keelevin on the occasion. A message was, accordingly, dispatched to the honest lawyer, begging him to call after dinner; in short, every demonstration was made by George to convince his mother how much better her worth was appreciated by him than by his brother;—and she was not only consoled, but delighted with the sincerity of his attentions.

In due time Mr. Keelevin made his appearance; and the Leddy began a strong representation of all the indignities which she had endured, but her son softly and mildly interposed, saying,—

‘It is of no use, my dear mother, to trouble Mr. Keelevin with these things; he knows the infirmities of Walter as well as we do. No doubt,’ he added, turning to the lawyer, ‘you have heard of the very extraordinary manner in which my brother took Mrs. Charles and her family to Grippy.’

‘I really,’ replied the honest-hearted man, ‘had no idea that he possessed so muckle feeling and common sense, but I was very happy to hear’t. For, his own wean being no more, I’m sure he can do nothing better than make up to the disinherited orphans some portion of that which, but for your father’s sudden death, would hae been provided for them.’

George knew not what reply to make to this; but his mother, who, like the rest of her sex, had an answer for all subjects and occasions ever ready, said,—

‘It’s weel to ca’t sense and feeling, but if I were obligated to speak the truth, I would baptize it wi’ another name. It’s no to be rehearsed by the tongue o’ man, Mr. Keelevin, what I hae borne at the hands of the haverel idiot, since the death of him that’s awa—your auld friend, Mr. Keelevin;—he was a man of a capacity, and had he been spared a comfort to me, as he was, and ay sae couthy wi’ his kindness, I would na kent what it is to be a helpless widow. But surely there maun be some way o’ remeid for us a’ in thir straits? It’s no possible that Walter can be alloo’t to riot and ravage in sic a most rabiator-like manner; for I need na tell you, that he’s gane beyond all counsel and admonition. Noo, do ye think, Mr. Keelevin, by your knowledge and skill in law, that we can get him cognost, and the rents and rule o’ the property ta’en out of his hands? for, if he gangs on at the gait he’s going, I’ll be herri’t, and he’ll no leave himself ae bawbee to rub on anither.’

‘What has he done?’ inquired the lawyer, a little thoughtfully.

‘Done! what has he no done? He gied Bell Fatherlans a ten pound note, and was as dour as a smith’s vice in the grip, when I wantit him to refund me a pour o’ ready money that I was obligated to lay out for the house.’

George, who had watched the lawyer’s countenance in the meantime, said,—

‘I doubt, mother, few will agree in thinking of that in the way you do. My sister-in-law stands in need of his kindness, but your jointure is more than you require; for, after all your terrible outlays,’ and he smiled to Mr. Keelevin as he said the words, ‘you have already saved money.’

‘But what’s that to him?’ exclaimed the Leddy. ‘Is nae a just debt a just debt—was na he bound to pay what I paid for him—and is’t no like a daft man and an idiot, to say he’ll no do’t? I’m sure, Mr. Keelevin, I need na tell you that Watty was ne’er truly concos montes. How ye got him made sound in his intellectuals when the law plea was about my father’s will, ye ken best yoursel; but the straemash that was thereanent is a thing to be remembered.’

Mr. Keelevin gave a profound sigh, adding, in a sort of apologistic manner,—

‘But Walter has maybe undergone some change since that time?’

‘Yes,’ said George, ‘the grief and consternation into which he was thrown by the sudden death of his wife had undoubtedly a great effect on his mind.’

‘He was clean dementit at that time,’ cried the Leddy; ‘he would neither buff nor stye for father nor mother, friend nor foe; a’ the King’s forces would na hae gart him carry his wife’s head in a wiselike manner to the kirk-yard. I’m sure, Mr. Keelevin, for ye were at the burial, ye may mind that her father, Kilmarkeckle, had to do’t, and lost his canary snuff by a twirl o’ the wind, when he was taking a pinch, as they said, after lowering her head intil the grave; which was thought, at the time, a most unparent-like action for any man to be about at his only dochter’s burial.’

Mr. Keelevin replied, ‘I will honestly confess to you, that I do think there has of late been signs of a want about Mr. Walter. But in his kindness to his poor brother’s widow and family, there’s great proof and evidence, both of a sound mind, reason, and a right heart. Ye’ll just, Mrs. Walkinshaw, hae to fight on wi’ him as well as ye can, for in the conscience o’ me I would, knowing what I know of the family, be wae and sorry to disturb such a consolatory manifestation of brotherly love.’

‘That’s just my opinion,’ said George, ‘and I would fain persuade my mother to put up with the slights and ill usage to which she is so distressingly subjected—at the same time, I cannot say, but I have my fears, that her situation is likely to be made worse rather than better, for Walter appears disposed, not only to treat her in a very mean and unworthy manner, but to give the whole dominion of the house to Mrs. Charles.’

‘Na,’ exclaimed the Leddy, kindling at this dexterous awakening of her wrongs. ‘He did far waur, he a’maist turn’t me out o’ the house by the shouthers.’

‘Did he lay hands on you, his mother?’ inquired Mr. Keelevin with his professional accent and earnestness. But George prevented her from replying, by saying that his mother naturally felt much molested in receiving so harsh a return for the particular partiality with which she had always treated his brother—and was proceeding in his wily and insidious manner to fan the flame he seemed so anxious to smother. Mr. Keelevin, however, of a sudden, appeared to detect his drift, and gave him such a rebuking look, that he became confused and embarrassed, during which the honest lawyer rose and wished them good afternoon—saying to George, who accompanied him to the door,—

‘The deil needs baith a syde cloak and a wary step to hide his cloven foot—I’ll say nae mair, Mr. George; but dinna mak your poor brother’s bairns waur than they are—and your mother should na be egget on in her anger, when she happens, poor body, to tak the dods now and then—for the most sensible of women hae their turns o’ tantrums, and need baith rein and bridle.’