had plainly
penetrated to the very marrow of her soul. At last, however, she said,--
"Your reproach is just, I hae been to blame baith to Heaven and man--but
the thing has na been unthought, only I kent na how to gang about the
task; and yet what gars me say sae but a woman's weakness, for the
road's no sae lang to St Andrews, and surely iniquity does not there so
abound, that no ane would help me to the donsie woman's bower."
My grandfather, on hearing this, answered, that if she was indeed minded
to try to rescue her sister, he was ready and willing to do all with her
and for her that she could desire; but, bearing in mind the light
woman's open shame, he added, "I'm fearful it's yet owre soon to hope
for her amendment: she'll hae to fin the evil upshot of her ungodly
courses, I doubt, before she'll be wrought into a frame of sincere
penitence."
"Nevertheless," replied Elspa Ruet, "I will try; it's my duty, and my
sisterly love bids me no to be slothful in the task." At which words she
burst into sore and sorrowful weeping, saying, "Alas, alas! that she
should have so fallen!--I loved her--oh! naebody can tell how
dearly--even as I loved myself. When I first saw my ain face in a
looking-glass I thought it was her, and kissed it for the likeness, in
pity that it didna look sae fair as it was wont to be. But it's the
Lord's pleasure, and in permitting her to sink so low HE has no doubt
some lesson to teach."
Thus, from less to more, as they continued conversing, it was agreed
that Elspa Ruet should ride on a pad ahint my grandfather next morning
to St Andrews, in order to try if the thing could be to move her sister
to the humiliation of contrition for her loose life. And some small
preparations being needful, Elspa departed and left the bailie and my
grandfather together.
"But," said my grandfather to him, after she had been some time away,
"is't your design to take the unfortunate woman back among your innocent
lassie bairns?"
"No," replied the bailie; "that's no a thing to be now thought of;
please Providence, she'll ne'er again darken my door; I'll no, however,
allow her to want. Her mother, poor auld afflicted woman, that has ne'er
refraint from greeting since her flight, she'll tak her in; but atween
her and me there's a divorce for ever."
By daylight my grandfather had his horse at the door; and Elspa having
borrowed the provost's lady's pad overnight, it was buckled on, and they
were soon after
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