Joseph Wilmot, or, The Memoirs of a Man-Servant — page 225: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

ma 212 JOSEPH WILMOT; stand I was in a hurry to cross over to the Inch; and almost immediately afterwards, Emmeline Ven- nachar came to the spot. The first glance which I threw upon her, as I respectfully made the usual salutation, showed me that she was pale—and that though her countenance in other respects was out- wardly calm, yet that she was troubled with an inward, silent agitation. I did not make any movement to enter the boat which was to convey her across—I conceived it would be a liberty: but with her wonted affability, and in the sweet tones of her musical voice, she bade me follow her,— adding that it was unnecessary either for me to wait till the boat returned, or to give the ferry- man the trouble of making two transits when one would serve. “* Have you been into the village ?” she inquired, as the boat, pulled by fhe stalwart arms of the ferry-man, shot away from the jetty, on the placid bosom of the loch: and as she spoke, methought that I beheld a certain momentary expression of uneasiness flitting over her countenance.. “Yes, Miss,” I answered, doing my best to prevent my own features from betraying aught to excite her suspicion that I knew her secret: “I have been to purchase some fishing-hooks for Mr. Lennox.” She seemed visibly relieved; and nothing more was said until the jetty of the Inch was reached. There the Chief and the Dominie were standing together,—the former surveying the fair scene around with the prideful satisfaction of one who knows that all he looks upon is his own—the latter gazing stolidly upon vacancy. “ Well, niece,” said Inch Methglin, offering his arm to Emmeline, “Iam glad that you have at last taken my advice in having one of our people to attend upon you on your visits to the school- house :’”’—for he evidently thought that I had been thus put into requisition for the young lady’s ser- vice. | “Dear me, how awkward I am!” murmured Emmeline, as she dropped her handkerchief, and hastily stooped to pick it up, before I, though springing forward, could reach the spot where it fell. I saw that her countenance was glowing with blushes; and it even appeared to me that she flung a sort of half-meaning look, of mingled deprecation and entreaty, as much as to express a hope or a wish that I would not undeceive Mr. Vennachar in respect to the conjecture that he had just expressed. Doubtless the poor young lady’s heart was fluttering to a painful degree; and her thoughts were thrown into such confusion that she was not at the instant the complete mis- tress of herself. “ This is as it should be,” continued her uncle. “T have told you over and over again, Emmeline, that it does not become the Chief of Inch Meth- glin’s niece—and who some day will be the Chief of Inch Methglin’s wife—to go gadding about by herself, even though on self-imposed missions of charity and benevolence. Charity and benevolence are all very well in their way 2 “Tt’s just that,” observed the Dominie, as he waddled along close at the heels of his patron. * And it’s all very well, too,’ proceeded Inch Metbglin, “to visit the school-house and see that the matron does her duty-———” OR, THE MEMOIR. OF A MAN-SERVANT. “It’s just that,” said the Dominie, taking out his snuff-box. ‘“ And now I bethink me, those are the very words I used to my friend Baillie Owl- head of the Gallowgate, Aberdeen, when I was staying with him I forget when it was I think it must have been but I can’t remember now. I shall know presently, and will tell you all about it.” “ But the Chief of Inch Methglin’s niece,” con- tinued Mr. Vennachar, taking no heed of the Dominie’s interruption, “ must remember that she is the niece of the Chief of Inch Methglin—and soon to become the wife of the future Chief ot all this princely domain,” he added, as he sicwly stopped, and with the stateliest air looked as slowly all around him. “She must recollect, I say, that she has menials and minions to wait upon her; and if she do not choose to be followed by her maids, let her be attended by a footman or a page.” “Tt’s just that,” said the Dominie. “TI told my friend Saltcoats, when he dined with me at Widow Glenbucket’s in the Grass-market, Edin- burgh it was the same day, I recollect, that I was pitched over the head of a pony no, his tail no, I recollect it must have been his head, because I was sitting with my back towards his tail I forget how it was, however: but I know that it did happen—and Saltcoats said ‘What was it that he said? I shall recollect presently.” “And therefore, Emmeline,” continued the Chief, speaking in his wonted loud pompous manner, yet with a certain degree of kindness in his tone, “you have done well—and I commend you, my dear girl—for having bidden Joseph attend upon you on this occasion. Remember, Joseph,’ he added, again stopping, and turning round to look at me, “you are always to hold yourself in readiness to attend upon your young mistress, as you have done this afternoon.” Emmeline also turned her head—but it was not in a slow stately manner—it was hurriedly and anxiously: the glitter of uneasiness was in her magnificent blue eyes—the colour was coming and vanishing on her cheeks, like the dancing shadows cast by the waving boughs which overhang a sunlit stream ;—and once more did it strike me that in the look which she flung upon ms, there was something of a mingled entreaty which her feelings made her express in spite of herself, but the consciousness of which sent up a ruddier glow to her cheeks the next moment. “T shall always be in readiness, sir,” I an- swerered, “ to pay implicit obedience to Miss Ven- nachar’s orders.” The glimpse that I caught of Emmeline’s van- ishing countenance, as she quickly averted her head again, showed me that she was ineffably relieved by this response on my part: but she must doubtless have wondered why it was that I did not say out boldly at once, that I had not been in attendance upon her. “IT have been thinking, Inch Methglin,” said Dominie Clackmannan, who very seldom indeed made a long speech—much less of his own accord initiated a subject ; “ indeed, I have been thinking for the last fifteen or sixteen years—or it may be more—perhaps less—that if you were to have a bridge built across the loch. J “A bridge?” ejaculated the Chief, again stop- . ClO@O “<S (CO