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Updated: May 26, 2025
Malcomson, and the latter looked, as she listened, at Mrs. Guthrie Brimston. Then Evadne took her arm, and the two sauntered over to Mrs. Beale an important person, who always adopted the last charitable opinion she heard expressed positively, and acted upon it. It was Mrs.
Malcomson, and otherwise presented a contrast to the latter, being taller, slighter, with a prettier, sweeter, and altogether more womanly face, as some people said. A stranger might have thought that she had less character too, but that was not the case. She suffered neither from weakness nor want of decision; but her manner was more diffident, and she said less. Mrs.
Blessed is the man who never flatters himself with the delusion that he can do anything original; for, verily, he shall not be disappointed. Mrs. Malcomson made no such vain pretension. She was quite clever enough to know her own limitations exactly.
"Ou, just some Papistry nonsense," replied the gardener; "but we hae naething to do wi' that, sae lang's we get the worth o' our siller out o' him." "Here's a shilling, Malcomson," said Sir Robert.
He then left her, and withdrew to his study to sign some papers, and transact some business, which he had allowed to run into arrear. When he had been there better than an hour, he rang the bell, and desired that Malcomson, the gardener, should be sent to him, and that self-sufficient and pedantic person made his appearance accordingly.
"True beauty, I mean, of course," he added, descending from the rostrum, as it were, and speaking colloquially "not the fashionable travesty of it." "Well, that is a piece of servility I have never been so degraded as to practise," Mrs. Malcomson exclaimed. "Ah, my dear, it does not do to be singular," Mrs. Beale mildly remonstrated.
She shrank from knowledge, but still she had the courage to possess herself of it; and, fortunately, her very sensitiveness enabled her to turn with ease from the consideration of terrible facts to the enjoyment of a fine idea. Mrs. Malcomson and Mr. Austin Price looked at each other involuntarily. The new element was not congenial to either of them. But Mr. St. John was satisfied.
Malcomson: "That's just the way with women! When they begin to have ideas they spread them everywhere, and all the other women in the neighbourhood catch them, and are spoiled by them." Evadne's spirits had risen in the open air, but the moment she found herself alone a reaction set in. The hall was dark and cool, and she stopped there, thinking Oh, the dissatisfaction of it all!
"Has anything happened?" Colquhoun asked with concern, "Are you ill, Evadne?" "I am sick at heart," she answered bitterly. "We have had bad news," Mrs. Malcomson said significantly. Colonel Colquhoun stood aside, and let them pass in. Then he went on to the club, wondering very much what the news could be.
"As his honor done a great dale o' good! to the poor o' the counthry, I think it wouldn't be daicent in us, Misther Malcomson, to go for to publish this generous act to the poor priesht; if he is wrong, let us lave him to Gad, shir." "Ou ay, weel I dinna but you're richt; the mair that we won't hae to answer for his transgressions; sae e'en let every herring hang by its ain tail."
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