“What did you say was the name of the place?” said Torrance. “I’m bent on making notes of all the places Lady Car’s been in. She’s a poet, you know. Some time or other they will be wanted for her biography, don’t you see?”
“I have observed,” said John, answering Torrance only with a little bow—“I have noticed already one or two. Could nothing be done for them?”
“But you don’t answer me,” said Torrance, “and when I tell you my motive! That’s my father-in-law’s last fad. What is he so anxious about the daft folk for, Dr. Stirling? Is it a fellow-feeling?” He stopped to laugh, making the table ring. “He was at me for my support, and to write to the convener. Not I! I told him they had done well enough up to my time, and they would do well enough after my time. What are we to put ourselves about for? can you tell me that?”
“It is a disgrace to the county,” said Dr. Stirling. “No wonder the Earl was horrified, that has seen things managed so differently. Mr. Erskine, if you will come and see me, I will tell you all about it. Sir John stands out, just because the idea is new to him, not from any real objection—for he’s a good man and a charitable man at heart.”
“You don’t wonder at me, Doctor,” said Torrance. “Do you think I’m not a good man or a charitable? I’m standing out too. I’m saying, what should we put ourselves about for? It’s not us that makes them daft. And what’s done for the county up to our time may do now. Little Tam, he can see to that: let him have the paying of it; it is not an amusement I’m fond of—”
“And yet, Mr. Torrance,” said the Doctor—“and yet—you’ll excuse me—here’s what would almost build the place—”
This was an exaggeration. It was founded upon his wife’s naive admiration of the Tinto plate; but it did not displease the proud owner of all those pounds of silver. He laughed.
“You may take your word, it will never build the place, nor any such place,” he said. “No, Doctor, that’s not my line—nor the Earl’s either, trust me. If you think he would strip his table or empty his purse for all the idiots in Scotland, you’re mistaken. You think it’s all benevolence and public spirit. Not a bit! He means to run Rintoul for the county, and it’s popularity he’s wanting. There’s always wheels within wheels. My father-in-law thinks he’s a very clever man—and so he is, I suppose. They’re a clever family; but I can see through them, though they don’t think much of me.”
Torrance had already consumed a good deal of wine. He had been crossed in his purpose, and his temper roused. His dark face was flushed, and his light eyes staring. Both his companions were men entirely out of sympathy with him, who were there because they could not help it, and who listened rather with angry shame that they should be parties to such discourse, than with any amiable desire to cover his shortcomings. They did not look at each other, but a slight uneasy movement on the part of both was as good as a mutual confidence, and both began to speak at once, with an anxious attempt to put an end to these unseemly revelations.
“What fine weather we’ve been having for the crops!” said Dr. Stirling. And, “I wish you’d tell me what flies you use about here. I have had no luck at all on the river,” cried John.
But their host was on his mettle, and felt himself a match for them both. “As for the weather, I’ve no land in my own hands—not such a fool! and I don’t care a ⸻ that for the crops! Flies! you may have the finest in the world, but without sense you’ll make nothing of them. Come with me, and I’ll let you see how to make them bite. But as I was saying,” Torrance went on, elevating his voice, “if you think his lordship is bent on the good of the county, you’re mistaken, I can tell you. He means to get the seat for Rintoul. And who’s Rintoul, to represent a county like this? A boy, in the first place—not fledged yet; what I call fledgling. And knows nothing about what we want. How should he? He never was in the county in his life till four or five years ago. You would have thought a man like old Lindores, that has been about the world, would have had more sense. That’s just it; a man knocks about these little foreign places, and he thinks he knows the world. Now there’s me. I would not take the trouble of Parliament, not for any inducement. It’s no object to me. I prefer quiet and my own way. There’s nothing that any Ministry could give me, neither office nor rise in life. I’m content to be Torrance of Tinto, as my father was before me: but at all events, I am one that knows the county and its ways. I could tell them what’s wanted for Scotland. But no! a boy like Rintoul that knows nothing—without sense or experience—he’s the man. My father-in-law, for so clever as he is, has awful little sense.”
“There is no seat vacant as yet,” said Dr. Stirling; “we might leave that question, Tinto, till the time comes.”
“That’s your old-fashioned way,” said Torrance; “but his lordship is a man of his century, as they call it. He’ll not wait till the last moment. He’ll get himself known as the friend of Liberal measures, and all that. All his tools are in the fire now; and when the
