TWO days later a gig from Crossmichael deposited Frank Innes at the doors of Hermiston.Once in a way, during the past winter, Archie, in some acute phase of boredom, had written him a letter.It had contained something in the nature of an invitation or a reference to an invitation - precisely what, neither of them now remembered.When Innes had received it, there had been nothing further from his mind than to bury himself in the moors with Archie; but not even the most acute political heads are guided through the steps of life with unerring directness.
That would require a gift of prophecy which has been denied to man.For instance, who could have imagined that, not a month after he had received the letter, and turned it into mockery, and put off answering it, and in the end lost it, misfortunes of a gloomy cast should begin to thicken over Frank's career? His case may be briefly stated.His father, a small Morayshire laird with a large family, became recalcitrant and cut off the supplies; he had fitted himself out with the beginnings of quite a good law library, which, upon some sudden losses on the turf, he had been obliged to sell before they were paid for; and his bookseller, hearing some rumour of the event, took out a warrant for his arrest.Innes had early word of it, and was able to take precautions.In this immediate welter of his affairs, with an unpleasant charge hanging over him, he had judged it the part of prudence to be off instantly, had written a fervid letter to his father at Inverauld, and put himself in the coach for Crossmichael.Any port in a storm! He was manfully turning his back on the Parliament House and its gay babble, on porter and oysters, the race-course and the ring;and manfully prepared, until these clouds should have blown by, to share a living grave with Archie Weir at Hermiston.
To do him justice, he was no less surprised to be going than Archie was to see him come; and he carried off his wonder with an infinitely better grace.
"Well, here I am!" said he, as he alighted."Pylades has come to Orestes at last.By the way, did you get my answer? No? How very provoking! Well, here I am to answer for myself, and that's better still.""I am very glad to see you, of course," said Archie."I make you heartily welcome, of course.But you surely have not come to stay, with the Courts still sitting; is that not most unwise?""Damn the Courts!" says Frank."What are the Courts to friendship and a little fishing?"And so it was agreed that he was to stay, with no term to the visit but the term which he had privily set to it himself - the day, namely, when his father should have come down with the dust, and he should be able to pacify the bookseller.On such vague conditions there began for these two young men (who were not even friends) a life of great familiarity and, as the days drew on, less and less intimacy.They were together at meal times, together o' nights when the hour had come for whisky-toddy;but it might have been noticed (had there been any one to pay heed) that they were rarely so much together by day.Archie had Hermiston to attend to, multifarious activities in the hills, in which he did not require, and had even refused, Frank's escort.He would be off sometimes in the morning and leave only a note on the breakfast table to announce the fact; and sometimes, with no notice at all, he would not return for dinner until the hour was long past.Innes groaned under these desertions; it required all his philosophy to sit down to a solitary breakfast with composure, and all his unaffected good-nature to be able to greet Archie with friendliness on the more rare occasions when he came home late for dinner.
"I wonder what on earth he finds to do, Mrs.Elliott?" said he one morning, after he had just read the hasty billet and sat down to table.
"I suppose it will be business, sir," replied the housekeeper drily, measuring his distance off to him by an indicated curtsy.
"But I can't imagine what business!" he reiterated.
"I suppose it will be HIS business," retorted the austere Kirstie.
He turned to her with that happy brightness that made the charm of his disposition, and broke into a peal of healthy and natural laughter.
"Well played, Mrs.Elliott!" he cried; and the housekeeper's face relaxed into the shadow of an iron smile."Well played indeed!" said he."But you must not be ****** a stranger of me like that.Why, Archie and I were at the High School together, and we've been to college together, and we were going to the Bar together, when - you know! Dear, dear me! what a pity that was! A life spoiled, a fine young fellow as good as buried here in the wilderness with rustics; and all for what? Afrolic, silly, if you like, but no more.God, how good your scones are, Mrs.Elliott!""They're no mines, it was the lassie made them," said Kirstie; "and, saving your presence, there's little sense in taking the Lord's name in vain about idle vivers that you fill your kyte wi'.""I daresay you're perfectly right, ma'am," quoth the imperturbable Frank."But as I was saying, this is a pitiable business, this about poor Archie; and you and I might do worse than put our heads together, like a couple of sensible people, and bring it to an end.Let me tell you, ma'am, that Archie is really quite a promising young man, and in my opinion he would do well at the Bar.As for his father, no one can deny his ability, and I don't fancy any one would care to deny that he has the deil's own temper - ""If you'll excuse me, Mr.Innes, I think the lass is crying on me," said Kirstie, and flounced from the room.
"The damned, cross-grained, old broomstick!" ejaculated Innes.
In the meantime, Kirstie had escaped into the kitchen, and before her vassal gave vent to her feelings.
