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So Marget knew it would be well with Lachlan yet, and she wrote this letter: "MY DEAR LASSIE, Ye ken that I wes aye yir freend, and I am writing this tae say that yir father luves ye mair than ever, and is wearing oot his hert for the sicht o' yir face. Come back, or he'll dee thro' want o' his bairn.
"Nae fear, Maister Carmichael, naebody misunderstands that luves, and the fouk all luve ye, and the man that hauds ye dearest is Lachlan Campbell. I saw the look in his een that canna be mista'en." "I'll go to him this very day," and the minister leaped to his feet. "Ye 'ill no regret it," said Marget, "for God will give ye peace."
"Just ae word more, Claverhouse, and I pray ye no to be angry, for there's naebody luves ye better than Jock Grimond. I hear things ye canna hear, and I see things ye canna see. Naebody would tell you that Lady Jean and Pollock, the Covenantin' minister, are as gude as man and wife. They may no be married yet, but they will be as sune as it's safe, and that's how he comes here so often.
"Ye canna be the same again, for a' coont, gin ony man loves a wumman wi' a leal hert, whether she answer or no, or whether she even kens, he 's been the gainer, an' the harvest will be his for ever. "It hes seemed to me that nae luve is proved an' crooned for eternity onless the man hes forgotten himsel' an' is willin' tae live alane gin the wumman he luves sees prosperity.
No, not had she been your are countrywoman, and of your are clan and all for the same reasons that make some neglect and look down upon her because Clara is not meikle rich, and is far away from her ane ane friends. Gude Lady Frances Somerset! Clara Hope luves you in her heart, and she's as blythe wi' the thought o' ganging to see you as if she were going to dear Inverary."
Finally, she took a piece of paper and a pencil from the shelf. "Mammy," she wrote, "I's a-goin' to save Ben Letts. Ezy tells ye about it, as how Ben Letts killed the gamekeeper it werent Orn Skinner. I takes the brat cause it air Bens I luves yer and Satisfied."
'But we'll tak' to her, mother, cried Milly, crossing, with her crutch, from the window at which she had been sitting, to take her place at her mother's side. 'We'll tak' to her; aw con luv onybody 'at Mr. Penrose luves. 'Bless thee, lass! aw beleeve thaa con. An' we will tak' to her, as thaa sez.
'And lang, lang may the maidens sit Wi' there gowd kaims i' the hair, A' waitin' for their ain dear luves, For them they'll see nae mair. I did a bit of sobbing here that would have been a credit to Sarah Siddons. "Splendid!
Guid-nicht to ye, missie; guid-nicht. Bed's the richt place for ye. I 'm sorry that Magsie 's no here to cuddle ye a bit. 'Thanks; I'm glad she's gone. I hate her, said Hollyhock. 'Ay, said the old man, coming close to the child and looking into her eyes. 'Isn't it a wee bit o' the de'il ye hae in ye the nicht, wi' your talkin' o' hatin' them that luves ye! Come, doggies; come.
See his bonny velvet clothes, his sword and sash; that's a lord, I can tell ye; and weel I know who he follows, who he luves, and who he'll wed." Bessie Hennock thought her companion daft. "See how luvesome he luks!" whispered Laura. Bessie looked again, and saw him gazing at her companion with a malignant smile, and at the same time he beckoned her to approach.
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