There was a table
spread for supper, and a servant went about with a long
candle-lighter, lighting candles. A collie and a hound lay upon the
hearth. Between them stood Mrs. Jardine, a tall, fair woman of forty
and more, with gray eyes, strong nose, and humorous mouth.
"Light them all, Davie! It'll be dark then by London houses."
Davie showed an old servant's familiarity. "He wasna sae grand when he
left auld Scotland thirty years since! I'm thinking he might remember
when he had nae candles ava in his auld hoose."
"Well, he'll have candles enough in his new hall."
Davie lit the last candle. "They say that he is sinfu' rich!"
"Rich enough to buy Black Hill," said Mrs. Jardine, and turned to the
fire. The tutor joined her there. He had for her liking and
admiration, and she for him almost a motherly affection. Now she
smiled as he came up.
"Did you have good fishing?"
"Only fair."
"Mr. Jardine and Mr. Touris have just returned. They rode to Black
Hill. Have you seen Alexander?"
"No. I asked Jamie--"
"So did I. But he could not tell."
"He may have gone over the moor and been belated. Bran is with him."
"Yes.... He's a solitary one, with a thousand in himself!"
"You're the second woman," remarked Strickland, "who's said that
to-day," and told her of Mother Binning.
Mrs. Jardine pushed back a fallen ember with the toe of her shoe.
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