Ginevra's eyes too had filled with wonder; she cast them down, and a strange smile began to play about her sweet strong mouth.All at once she was in the middle of a fairy tale, and had not a notion what was coming next.Her dumb shepherd boy a baronet!--and, more wonderful still, a Galbraith! She must be dreaming in the wide street! The last she had seen of him was as he was driven from the house by her father, when he had just saved her life.That was but a few weeks ago, and here he was, called Sir Gilbert Galbraith! It was a delicious bit of wonderment.
"Oh!" said Miss Kimble a second time, recovering herself a little, "I see! A relative, Miss Galbraith! I did not understand.That of course sets everything right--at least--even then--the open street, you know!--You will understand, Mr.Sclater.--I beg your pardon, Sir Gilbert.I hope I did not hurt you with my parasol!"Gibbie again laughed aloud.
"Thank you," said Miss Kimble confused, and annoyed with herself for being so, especially before her girls."I should be sorry to have hurt you.--Going to college, I presume, Sir Gilbert?"Gibbie looked at Mr.Sclater.
"He is going to study with me for a while first," answered the minister.
"I am glad to hear it, He could not do better," said Miss Kimble.
"Come, girls."
And with friendly farewells, she moved on, her train after her, thinking with herself what a boor the young fellow was--the young--baronet?--Yes, he must be a baronet; he was too young to have been knighted already.But where ever could he have been brought up?
Mr.Sclater had behaved judiciously, and taken gentle pains to satisfy the old couple that they must part with Gibbie.One of the neighbouring clergy knew Mr.Sclater well, and with him paid the old people a visit, to help them to dismiss any lingering doubt that he was the boy's guardian legally appointed.To their own common sense indeed it became plain that, except some such story was true, there could be nothing to induce him to come after Gibbie, or desire to take charge of the outcast; but they did not feel thoroughly satisfied until Mr.Sclater brought Fergus Duff to the cottage, to testify to him as being what he pretended.It was a sore trial, but amongst the griefs of losing him, no fear of his forgetting them was included.Mr.Sclater's main difficulty was with Gibbie himself.
At first he laughed at the absurdity of his going away from his father and mother and the sheep.They told him he was Sir Gilbert Galbraith.He answered on his slate, as well as by signs which Janet at least understood perfectly, that he had told them so, and had been so all the time, "and what differ dos that mak?" he added.
Mr.Sclater told him he was--or would be, at least, he took care to add, when he came of age--a rich man as well as a baronet.
"Writch men," wrote Gibbie, "dee as they like, and Ise bide."Mr.Sclater told him it was only poor boys who could do as they pleased, for the law looked after boys like him, so that, when it came into their hands, they might be capable of using their money properly.Almost persuaded at length that he had no choice, that he could no longer be his own master, until he was one and twenty, he turned and looked at Janet, his eyes brimful of tears.She gave him a little nod.He rose and went out, climbed the crest of Glashgar, and did not return to the cottage till midnight.
In the morning appeared on his countenance signs of unusual resolve.
Amid the many thoughts he had had the night before, had come the question--what he would do with the money when he had it--first of all what he could do for Janet and Robert and everyone of their family; and naturally enough to a Scotch boy, the first thing that occurred to him was, to give Donal money to go to college like Fergus Duff.In that he know he made no mistake.It was not so easy to think of things for the rest, but that was safe.Had not Donal said twenty times he would not mind being a herd all his life, if only he could go to college first? But then he began to think what a long time it was before he would be one and twenty, and what a number of things might come and go before then: Donal might by that time have a wife and children, and he could not leave them to go to college! Why should not Mr.Sclater manage somehow that Donal should go at once? It was now the end almost of October, and the college opened in November.Some other rich person would lend them the money, and he would pay it, with compound interest, when he got his.Before he went to bed, he got his slate, and wrote as follows:
"my dear minister, If you will teak Donal too, and lett him go to the kolledg, I will go with you as seens ye like; butt if ye will not, I will runn away."When Mr.Sclater, who had a bed at the gamekeeper's, appeared the next morning, anxious to conclude the business, and get things in motion for their departure, Gibbie handed him the slate the moment he entered the cottage, and while he read, stood watching him.
