As James approached his fourteenth year, his uncle, still with a view to a union with Robina, proposed, that, when Mr. Eadie thought his education sufficient for the mercantile profession, he should be sent to his counting-house. But the early habits and the tenor of the lessons he had received were not calculated to ensure success to James as a merchant. He was robust, handsome, and adventurous, fond of active pursuits, and had imbibed, from the Highland spirit of Mrs. Eadie, a tinge of romance and enthusiasm. The bias of his character, the visions of his reveries, and the cast of his figure and physiognomy, were decidedly military. But the field of heroic enterprise was then vacant,—the American war was over, and all Europe slumbered in repose, unconscious of the hurricane that was then gathering; and thus, without any consideration of his own inclinations and instincts, James, like many of those who afterwards distinguished themselves in the great conflict, acceded to the proposal.

He had not, however, been above three or four years settled in Glasgow when his natural distaste for sedentary and regular business began to make him dislike the place; and his repugnance was heightened almost to disgust by the discovery of his uncle’s sordid views with respect to him; nor, on the part of his cousin, was the design better relished; for, independent of an early and ungracious antipathy, she had placed her affections on another object; and more than once complained to the old Leddy of her father’s tyranny in so openly urging on a union that would render her miserable, especially, as she said, when her cousin’s attachment to Ellen Frazer was so unequivocal. But Leddy Grippy had set her mind on the match as strongly as her son; and, in consequence, neither felt nor showed any sympathy for Robina.

‘Never fash your head,’ she said to her one day, when the young lady was soliciting her mediation,—‘Never fash your head, Beenie, my dear, about Jamie’s calf-love of yon daffodil; but be an obedient child, and walk in the paths of pleasantness that ye’re ordain’t to, both by me and your father; for we hae had oure lang a divided family; and it’s full time we were brought to a cordial understanding with one another.’

‘But,’ replied the disconsolate damsel, ‘even though he had no precious attachment, I’ll ne’er consent to marry him, for really I can never fancy him.’

‘And what for can ye no fancy him?’ cried the Leddy—‘I would like to ken that? But, to be plain wi’ you, Beenie, it’s a shame to hear a weel educated miss like you, brought up wi’ a Christian principle, speaking about fancying young men. Sic a thing was never alloo’t nor heard tell o’ in my day and generation. But that comes o’ your ganging to see Douglas tragedy, at that kirk o’ Satan in Dunlop Street; where, as I am most creditably informed, the play-actors court ane another afore a’ the folk.’

‘I am sure you have yourself experienced,’ replied Robina, ‘what it is to entertain a true affection, and to know that our wishes and inclinations are not under our own control.—How would you have liked had your father forced you to marry a man against your will?’

‘Lassie, lassie!’ exclaimed the Leddy, ‘if ye live to be a grandmother like me, ye’ll ken the right sense o’ a lawful and tender affection. But there’s no sincerity noo like the auld sincerity, when me and your honest grandfather, that was in mine, and is noo in Abraham’s bosom, came thegither—we had no foistring and parleyvooing, like your novelle turtle-doves—but discoursed in a sober and wise-like manner anent the cost and charge o’ a family; and the upshot was a visibility of solid cordiality and kindness, very different, Beenie, my dear, frae the puff-paste love o’ your Clarissy Harlots.’

‘Ah! but your affection was mutual from the beginning—you were not perhaps devoted to another?’

‘Gude guide us, Beenie Walkinshaw! are ye devoted to another?—Damon and Phillis, pastorauling at hide and seek wi’ their sheep, was the height o’ discretion, compared wi’ sic curdooing. My lass, I’ll let no grass grow beneath my feet, till I hae gi’en your father notice o’ this loup-the-window, and hey cockalorum-like love.’

‘Impossible!’ exclaimed the young lady; ‘you will never surely be so rash as to betray me?’

‘Wha is’t wi’—But I need na speer; for I’ll be none surprised to hear that it’s a play-actor, or a soldier officer, or some other clandestine poetical.’

Miss possessed more shrewdness than her grandmother gave her credit for, and perceiving the turn and tendency of their conversation, she exerted all her address to remove the impression which she had thus produced, by affecting to laugh, saying,—

‘What has made you suppose that I have formed any improper attachment? I was only anxious that you should speak to my father, and try to persuade him that I can never be happy with my cousin.’

‘How can I persuade him o’ ony sic havers? or how can ye hope that I would if it was in my power—when ye know what a comfort it will be to us a’, to see such a prudent purpose o’ marriage brought to perfection?—Na, na, Beenie, ye’re an instrument in the hands o’ Providence to bring aboot a great blessing to your family; and I would be as daft as your uncle Watty, when he gaed out to shoot the flees, were I to set mysel an adversary to such a righteous ordinance—so you maun just mak up your mind to conform. My word, but ye’re weel an to be married in your teens—I was past thirty before man speer’t my price.’

‘But,’ said Robina, ‘you forget that James himself has not yet consented—I am sure he is devoted to Ellen Frazer—and that he will never consent.’

‘Weel, I declare if e’er I heard the like of sic upsetting.—I won’er what business either you or him hae to consenting or non-consenting.—Is’t no the pleasure o’ your parentage that ye’re to be married, and will ye dare to commit the sin of disobedient children? Beenie Walkinshaw, had I said sic a word to my father, who was a man o’ past-ordinar sense, weel do I ken what I would hae gotten—I only just ance in a’ my life, in a mistak, gied him a contradiction, and he declared that, had I been a son as I was but a dochter, he would hae grippit me by the cuff o’ the neck and the back o’ the breeks, and shuttled me through the window. But the end o’ the world is drawing near, and corruption’s working daily to a head; a’ modesty and maidenhood has departed frae womankind, and the sons of men are workers of iniquity—priests o’ Baal, and transgressors every one—a’, therefore, my leddy, that I hae to say to you is a word o’ wisdom, and they ca’t conform—Beenie, conform—and obey the fifth commandment.’

Robina was, however, in no degree changed by her grandmother’s exhortations and animadversions; on the contrary, she was determined to take her own way, which is a rule that we would recommend to all young ladies, as productive of the happiest consequences in cases of the tender passion. But scarcely had she left the house, till Leddy Grippy, reflecting on what had passed, was not quite at ease in her mind, with respect to the sentimental insinuation of being devoted to another. For, although, in the subsequent conversation, the dexterity and address of the young lady considerably weakened the impression which it had at first made, still enough remained to make her suspect it really contained more than was intended to have been conveyed. But, to avoid unnecessary disturbance, she resolved to give her son a hint to observe the motions of his daughter, while, at the same time, she also determined to ascertain how far there was any ground to suppose that from the attachment of James to Ellen Frazer, there was reason to apprehend that he might likewise be as much averse to the projected marriage as Robina. And with this view she sent for him that evening—but what passed will furnish matter for another chapter.