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David Rowe had been a week in London engaged in the search for Owen's relatives. At last a letter came from him, desiring that the trap might be sent over to Reston, as he would be down, God willing, by the coach that day. His arrival was eagerly looked for by all at Fenside Farm. David's laconic letter had not mentioned anything to satisfy their curiosity.
They were ready to the last glove-button half an hour before the time appointed, and sat stiffly on two high chairs in their little dining-room. "I think," said Miss Watson, "we'd be as well to think on some subjects to talk on. We must try to choose something that'll interest Miss Reston. I wish I knew more about the Upper Ten."
Muir 'as when she takes in 'er clean clothes." "Weel, mebbe you're right. I'm nae Socialist masel'. There maun aye be rich and poor, Dives in the big hoose and Lazarus at the gate. But so long as we're sure that Dives'll catch it in the end, and Lazarus lie soft in Abraham's bosom, we can pit up wi' the unfairness here. An' speakin' about Miss Reston, I dinna mind her no' working.
I want you to taste my rowan and crab-apple jelly, Miss Reston, and if you like it you will take some home with you." As they left the Manse an hour later, laden with gifts, Pamela said to Jean, "I would rather be Mrs. Macdonald than anyone else I know. She is a practising Christian.
The handle of the door turned and a voice said, "May I come in?" and without waiting for permission Pamela Reston walked in, bare-headed, wrapped in a cloak, and with her embroidery-frame under her arm, as she had come many times to The Rigs during her stay at Hillview. When Jean heard the voice it seemed to her as if everything was transformed. Mrs.
And here was Miss Reston looking lovely and exotic in a wonderful tea-frock, a class of garment hitherto unknown to the Miss Watsons, who thrilled at the sight. Her welcome was so warm that it seemed to the guests, accustomed to the thus-far-and-no-further manner of the Priorsford great ladies, almost exuberant.
"I don't think," Lewis Elliot said slowly, "that I ever allowed myself to think that the Pamela Reston I knew needed improvement. That would have savoured of sacrilege.... Are we finished? We might have coffee in the other room." Pamela looked at her host as she rose from the table, and said, "Years have brought clearer eyes for faults."
Croker in his reply had urged that if the author appealed to the edge of the claymore at Prestonpans, he might refer him to the point of the bayonet at Culloden. See Croker's Correspondence, vol. i. pp. 317-320, and Scott's Life, vol. viii. pp. 301-5. Lord Reston, who died at Gladsmuir in 1819. He was one of Scott's companions at the High School. See Life., vol. i. p. 40. See Gray's Elegy.
"You care for poetry, Miss Reston? In Priorsford it's considered rather a slur on your character to care for poetry. Novels we may discuss, sensible people read novels, even now and again essays or biography, but poetry there we have to dissemble. We pretend, don't we, Jean? that poetry is nothing to us. Never a quotation or an allusion escapes us.
Jowett, and with an arch admonition to the men not to stay too long, she swept the ladies before her to the drawing-room. "I will the country see Where old simplicity, Though hid in grey, Doth look more gay Than foppery in plush and scarlet clad." A letter from Pamela Reston to her brother. " ... It was a tremendous treat to get your budget this morning after three mails of silence.
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