But Robertson was
an angry man when he got that letter, and he said, 'If that was a'
the lo'e that Jeanie Burns had for him, to prefer an auld woman's
comfort, who was naething to her, to her betrothed husband, she
might bide awa' as lang as she pleased, he would never trouble
himsel' to write to her again.'
"I did na' think that the man was in earnest, an' I remonstrated
with him on his folly an' injustice. This ended in a sharp quarrel
atween us, and I left him to gang his ain gate, an' went to live
with my uncle, who kept a blacksmith's forge in the village.
"After a while, we heard that Willie Robertson was married to a
Canadian woman - neither young nor good-looking, and very much his
inferior in every way, but she had a good lot of land in the rear of
his farm. Of course I thought that it was all broken off with puir
Jeanie, and I wondered what she would spier at the marriage.
"It was early in June, and our Canadian woods were in their first
flush o' green - an' how green an' lightsome they be in their spring
dress - when Jeanie Burns landed in Canada. She travelled her lane
up the country, wondering why Willie was not at Montreal to meet her
as he had promised in the last letter he sent her. It was late in
the afternoon when the steam-boat brought her to C - -, and, without
waiting to ask any questions respecting him, she hired a man and
cart to take her and her luggage to M - -. The road through the bush
was very heavy, and it was night before they reached Robertson's
clearing, and with some difficulty the driver found his way among
the logs to the cabin-door.
"Hearing the sound of wheels, the wife, a coarse ill-dressed
slattern, came out to see what could bring strangers to such an
out-o'-the-way place at that late hour. "Puir Jeanie! I can weel
imagine the fluttering o' her heart when she spier'd of the woman
for ane Willie Robertson, and asked if he was at hame?'
"'Yes,' answered the wife gruffly. 'But he is not in from the fallow
yet - you may see him up yonder tending the blazing logs.'
"While Jeanie was striving to look in the direction which the woman
pointed out, and could na' see through the tears that blinded her
e'e, the driver jumped down from the cart, and asked the puir girl
where he should leave her trunks, as it was getting late, and he must
be off?
"'You need not bring these big chests in here,' said Mrs. Robertson,
'I have no room in my house for strangers and their luggage.'
"'Your house!' gasped Jeanie, catching her arm. 'Did ye na' tell me
that _he_ lived here? - and wherever Willie Robertson bides Jeanie
Burns sud be a welcome guest. Tell him,' she continued, trembling
all ower, for she told me afterwards that there was something in the
woman's look and tone that made the cold chills run to her heart,
'that an auld friend from Scotland has jist come off a lang
wearisome journey to see him.'
"'You may speak for yourself!' cried the woman angrily, 'for my
husband is now coming down the clearing.'
"The word husband was scarcely out o' her mouth than puir Jeanie
fell as ane dead across the door-step.
"The driver lifted up the unfortunate girl, carried her into the
cabin, and placed her in a chair, regardless of the opposition of
Mrs. Robertson, whose jealousy was now fairly aroused, and who
declared that the bold huzzie should not enter her doors.
"It was a long time before the driver succeeded in bringing Jeanie
to herself, and she had only just unclosed her eyes when Willie
came in.
"'Wife,' he said, 'whose cart is this standing at the door, and what
do these people want here?'
"'You know best,' cried the angry woman, bursting into tears; 'that
creature is no acquaintance of mine, and if she is suffered to
remain here, I will leave the house at once.'
"'Forgi'e me, gude woman, for having unwittingly offended ye,' said
Jeanie, rising. 'But, merciful Father! how sud I ken that Willie
Robertson, my ain Willie, had a wife? Oh, Willie!' she cried,
covering her face in her hands to hide all the agony that was in
her heart. 'I ha' come a lang way, an' a weary to see ye, an' ye
might ha' spared me the grief - the burning shame o' this. Farewell,
Willie Robertson, I will never mair trouble ye nor her wi' my
presence, but this cruel deed of yours has broken my heart!'
"She went away weeping, and he had not the courage to detain her,
or say one word to comfort her, or account for his strange conduct;
yet, if I know him right, that must ha' been the most sorrowfu'
moment in his life.
"Jeanie was a distant connexion of my uncle's, and she found us out
that night, on her return to the village, and told us all her
grief. My aunt, who was a kind good woman, was indignant at the
treatment she had recieved; and loved and cherished her as if she
had been her own child.
"For two whole weeks she kept her bed, and was so ill that the
doctor despaired of her life; and when she did come again among us,
the colour had faded from her cheeks, and the light from her sweet
blue eyes, and she spoke in a low subdued voice, but she never
spoke of _him_ as the cause of her grief.
