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"Oh, Clarinda," writes Burns, "shall we not meet in a state some yet unknown state of being, where the lavish hand of Plenty shall minister to the highest wish of Benevolence, and where the chill north wind of Prudence shall never blow over the flowery field of Enjoyment?" The design may be that of an Old Hawk, but the style is more suggestive of a Bird of Paradise.
“Oh, plenty of them!” said Marcia, with a merry laugh, so relieved that she fairly bubbled. “I think I could make a shirt with my eyes shut.” Aunt Clarinda beamed on her with delight. A shirt was something she had never succeeded in making right. It was one of the things which her sisters had against her that she could not make good shirts. Any one who could not make a shirt was deficient.
“What is it, darling?” asked David perplexed, half happy, half afraid as he took the locket and touched the curl more thrilled with the thought that she had carried it next her heart than with the sight of it. “It is yours,” she said, disappointed that he did not understand. “Aunt Clarinda gave it to me while you were away. I’ve worn it ever since.
"Will she never come back?" asked Clarinda. "Oh, no!" said Jane decidedly. "Bony never brings people back." "Not never no more?" sobbed Clarinda, for she was weak-minded, and could not bear to think that Bony never, never let naughty people go home again. Next day Jane had heard more. "He has taken her to a Green?" "A Goose Green?" asked Clarinda. "No. A Gretna Green.
"Major Fitz-David may do very well for the ladies," he said. "The ladies can treat him as a species of elderly human lap-dog. I don t dine with lap-dogs; I have said, No. You go. He or some of his ladies may be of use to you. Who are the guests? Did he tell you?" "There was a French lady whose name I forget," I said, "and Lady Clarinda " "That will do! She is a friend of Mrs. Beauly's.
On the 17th, he wrote to Clarinda: "Your hopes, your fears, your cares, my love, are mine; so don't mind them. I will take you in my hand through the dreary wilds of this world, and scare away the ravening bird or beast that would annoy you."
Was the shadow of a doubt of him beginning to rise in my mind? I waited, and listened. "I am as fully satisfied as ever of the truth of what Lady Clarinda told you," he proceeded. "But I see, on consideration, what I failed to see at the time. The story admits of two interpretations one on the surface, and another under the surface.
I remember dear old Benjamin, completely bewildered, shrinking into corners, blushing when he was personally drawn into the conversation, frightened at Madame Mirliflore, bashful with Lady Clarinda, submissive to the Major, suffering under the music, and from the bottom of his honest old heart wishing himself home again.
Possibly it was this healthy quality that inclined the master towards him, and it was consequently with some satisfaction that he overheard fragments of his openly disparaging comments upon his worshippers. "There!" to Clarinda Jones, "don't flop! And don't YOU," to Octavia Dean, "go on breathing over my head like that. If there's anything I hate it's having a girl breathing round me.
Would that Clarinda had been as much alive to her own good name, and the poet's fair fame, as Peggy Chalmers, who did not preserve her letters from Burns! It was February 1788 before Burns could settle with Creech; and, after discharging all expenses, he found a balance in his favour of about five hundred pounds.
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