"There's nae gratuity in honest earned money; and if you wad gie me £50 it
wad be too little to pay me for the loss o' health and time and gude name
I hae made through you and yours. Set you up for a minister, indeed! Clean
your ain door-stane before you speak o' other folks. I'm glad to be rid o'
the sight and the hearing o' you."
That was the parting shot, and David could have very heartily returned it.
But he heeded his Bible rule, and to her railing made no answer. Janet
would rather have been sworn at. He left her bargaining with a man to take
her blue kist to the village public, but he did not return to Pittenloch.
He had given Elder Mackelvine the key of the cottage, and the elder had
promised to find a proper woman to care for it. So he sent the boy back
with the boat, and found the quickest way from Dron Point to Glasgow.
In his last interview with Allan Campbell, Allan had told him, if any
difficulty arose about his money matters, or if he needed more money
before he returned, to go to his father; and in view of such an emergency,
had given David the address of Campbell & Co. He went there as soon as he
arrived in Glasgow. It was in the middle of the afternoon and John
Campbell had just gone to his house in Blytheswood Square. The young man
who answered his inquiry was pleasant spoken, and trustworthy, and David
said to him--"Where is Mr. Allan Campbell?"
"He is in the United States. I believe in New Orleans."
"When will he return?"
"It is very uncertain. Not for a year or more."
Then he concluded that Maggie had gone to him. That was the thing Dr.
Balmuto feared. What a fool he had been not to suspect earlier what
everyone else, doubtless, perceived. One hope yet remained. He wrote to
the Largo Bank about the £50. If Maggie had lifted it, then he would feel
certain she was doing honestly for herself, in some quiet village, or
perhaps, even in Glasgow. But when he found the money had not been
touched, he accepted without further hope the loss and the shame. It is so
much easier to believe evil than good, even of those we love. Yet, how
could David, knowing Maggie as he did, do her this shame? Alas! David
Promoter thought very badly of the majority of men and women. It was his
opinion that God had so made them, that they preferred evil to good, and
only by some special kind of Divine favor and help--such as had been
vouchsafed to himself--chose the right road.
He certainly grieved for Maggie; but oh! how bitterly he felt the wrong
she had done him. For her own indulgence, how she would curtail and cramp
all his future college course! He had hitherto dressed well, and been able
to buy easily all the books he needed. For the future he would have to
rely upon his own exertions; for his first decision had been to pay back
the money he had taken from Allan's fund, and make the proceeds of his
teaching defray his class fees. When he had done this, he had only £8
left, out of the £50 which his father had left accumulated; but he was to
receive £25 from Prof. Laird for his two months' services, and with this
£33, and the stray teaching he would certainly find to do, he really had
no fear of pushing his way through the next year. But yet he felt keenly
the bondage to care and necessity which Maggie's selfishness had put him
under. He never thought of blaming himself. It did not occur to him that
she had rights as sacred as his own. "The cruelty of her! The cruelty of
her!" he kept saying, as he moodily paced his little room. He did not
remember his own indifference, nor reflect that a trifle of kindness, even
the small favor of a-weekly visit, would have kept the girl contentedly
under his own eye.