A Noble Life | Page 3

Mr. Cardross; I am indeed glad to see you. I took the liberty

of sending for you, since you are the only person with whom I can
consult--we can consult, I should say, for Dr. Hamilton wished it
likewise--on this--this most painful occasion."
"I shall be very glad to be of the slightest service," returned Mr.
Cardross. "I had the utmost respect for those that are away." He had the
habit, this tender-hearted, pious man, who, with all his learning, kept a
religious faith as simple as a child's, as speaking of the dead as only
"away."
The two gentlemen sat down together. They had often met before, for
whenever there were guests at Cairnforth Castle the earl always invited
the minister and his wife to dinner, but they had never fraternized much.
Now, a common sympathy, nay, more, a common grief--for something
beyond sympathy, keen personal regret, was evidently felt by both for
the departed earl and countess--made them suddenly familiar.
"Is the child doing well?" was Mr. Cardross's first and most natural
question; but it seemed to puzzle Mr. Menteith exceedingly.
"I suppose so--indeed, I can hardly say. This is a most difficult and
painful matter."
"It was born alive, and is a son and heir, as I heard?"
"Yes."
"That is fortunate."
"For some things; since, had it been a girl, the title would have lapsed,
and the long line of Earls of Cairnforth ended. At one time Dr.
Hamilton feared the child would be stillborn, and then, of course, the
earldom would have been extinct. The property must in that case have
passed to the earl's distant cousins, the Bruces, of whom you may have
heard, Mr. Cardross?"
"I have; and there are few things, I fancy, which Lord Cairnforth would
have regretted more than such heir-ship."

"You are right," said the keen W.S., evidently relieved. "It was my
instinctive conviction that you were in the late earl's confidence on this
point, which made me decide to send and consult with you. We must
take all precautions, you see. We are placed in a most painful and
responsible position--both Dr. Hamilton and myself."
It was now Mr. Cardross's turn to look perplexed. No doubt it was a
most sad fatality which had happened, but still things did not seem to
warrant the excessive anxiety testified by Mr. Menteith.
"I do not quite comprehend you. There might have been difficulties as
to the succession, but are they not all solved by the birth of a healthy,
living heir--whom we must cordially hope will long continue to live?"
"I hardly know if we ought to hope it," said the lawyer, very seriously.
"But we must 'keep a calm sough' on that matter for the present--so far,
at least, Dr. Hamilton and I have determined--in order to prevent the
Bruces from getting wind of it. Now, then, will you come and see the
earl?"
"The earl!" re-echoed Mr. Cardross, with a start; then recollected
himself, and sighed to think how one goes and another comes, and all
the world moves on as before--passing, generation after generation, into
the awful shadow which no eye except that of faith can penetrate. Life
is a little, little day--hardly longer, in the end, for the man in his prime
than for the infant of an hour's span.
And the minister, who was of meditative mood, thought to himself
much as a poet half a century later put into words--thoughts common to
all men, but which only such a man and such a poet could have
crystallized into four such perfect lines:
"Thou wilt not leave us in the dust: Thou madest man, he knows not
why; He thinks he was not made to die, And Thou hast made
him--Thou are just."
Thus musing, Mr. Cardross followed up stairs toward the magnificent
nursery, which had been prepared months before, with a loving

eagerness of anticipation, and a merciful blindness to futurity, for the
expected heir of the Earls of Cairnforth. For, as before said, the only
hope of the lineal continuance of the race was in this one child. It lay in
a cradle resplendent with white satin hangings and lace curtains, and
beside it sat the nurse--a mere girl, but a widow already--Neil
Campbell's widow, whose first child had been born only two days after
her husband was drowned. Mr. Cardross knew that she had been
suddenly sent for out of the clachan, the countess having, with her
dying breath, desired that this young woman, whose circumstances
were so like her own, should be taken as wet-nurse to the new-born
baby.
So, in her widow's weeds, grave and sad, but very sweet-looking--she
had been a servant at the Castle, and was a rather superior young
woman --Janet Campbell took her place beside her charge with an