Clergy -- Fiction; Love stories; Scotland -- Fiction
Both men sat down, for they would have hurt Nanny by remaining
standing. Some ministers would have known the right thing to say to
her, but Gavin dared not let himself speak. I have again to remind you
that he was only one-and-twenty.
"I'm drouthy, Nanny," the doctor said, to give her something to do,
"and I would be obliged for a drink of water."
Nanny hastened to the pan that stood behind her door, but stopped
before she reached it.
"It's toom," she said. "I--I didna think I needed to fill it this
morning." She caught the doctor's eye, and could only half restrain a
sob. "I couldna help that," she said, apologetically. "I'm richt angry
at myself for being so ungrateful like."
The doctor thought it best that they should depart at once. He rose.
"Oh, no, doctor," cried Nanny in alarm.
"But you are ready?"
"Ay," she said, "I have been ready this twa hours, but you micht wait
a minute. Hendry Munn and Andrew Allardyce is coming yont the road,
and they would see me."
"Wait, doctor," Gavin said.
"Thank you kindly, sir," answered Nanny.
"But Nanny," the doctor said, "you must remember what I told you about
the poo--, about the place you are going to. It is a fine house, and
you will be very happy in it."
"Ay, I'll be happy in't," Nanny faltered, "but, doctor, if I could
just hae bidden on here though I wasna happy!"
"Think of the food you will get; broth nearly every day."
"It--it'll be terrible enjoyable," Nanny said.
"And there will be pleasant company for you always," continued the
doctor, "and a nice room to sit in. Why, after you have been there a
week, you won't be the same woman."
"That's it!" cried Nanny with sudden passion. "Na, na; I'll be a woman
on the poor's rates. Oh, mither, mither, you little thocht when you
bore me that I would come to this!"
"Nanny," the doctor said, rising again, "I am ashamed of you."
"I humbly speir your forgiveness, sir," she said, "and you micht bide
just a wee yet. I've been ready to gang these twa hours, but now that
the machine is at the gate, I dinna ken how it is, but I'm terrible
sweer to come awa'. Oh, Mr. Dishart, it's richt true what the doctor
says about the--the place, but I canna just take it in. I'm--I'm gey
auld."
"You will often get out to see your friends," was all Gavin could
say.
"Na, na, na," she cried, "dinna say that; I'll gang, but you mauna bid
me ever come out, except in a hearse. Dinna let onybody in Thrums look
on my face again."
"We must go," said the doctor firmly. "Put on your mutch, Nanny."
"I dinna need to put on a mutch," she answered, with a faint flush of
pride. "I have a bonnet."
She took the bonnet from her bed, and put it on slowly.
"Are you sure there's naebody looking?" she asked.
The doctor glanced at the minister, and Gavin rose.
"Let us pray," he said, and the three went down on their knees.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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