The courtship had been the more ardent from Fanny’s alarm lest the brother should deprive her of Alison; and when she found her fears groundless, she thanked him with such fervour, and talked so eagerly of his sister’s excellences that she roused him into a lucid interval, in which he told Colonel Keith that Lady Temple might give him an idea of the style of woman that Lucy had been.  Indeed, Colin began to think that it was as well that he was so well wrapped up in smoke and chemistry, otherwise another might have been added to the list of Lady Temple’s hopeless adorers.  The person least satisfied was Tibbie, who could not get over the speediness of the marriage, nor forgive the injury to Miss Williams, “of bringing her hame like any pleughman’s wife, wantin’ a honeymoon trip, forbye providin’ hersel’ with weddin’ braws conformable.  Gin folk tak’ sic daft notions aff the English, they’d be mair wise like to bide at hame, an’ that’s my way o’ thinkin’.”

Crusty as she was, there was no danger of her not giving her warmest welcome, and thus the morning came.  Tibbie had donned her cap, with white satin ribbons, and made of lace once belonging to the only heiress who had ever brought wealth to the Keiths.  Edward Williams, all his goods packed up, had gone to join his sisters, and the Colonel, only perceptibly differing from his daily aspect in having a hat free from crape, was opening all the windows in hopes that a thorough draft would remove the last of the tobacco, when the letters were brought in, and among them one of the black bordered bulletins from Littleworthy, which ordinarily arrived by the second post.  It was a hurried note, evidently dashed off to catch the morning mail.

My Dear Colonel,—­Alick tells me to write in haste to catch the morning post, and beg you to telegraph the instant your wedding is over.  The doctors see cause to hasten their measures, but your brother will have nothing done till the will is signed.  He and Alick both desire you will not come, but it is getting to be far too much for Alick.  I would tell you more if there were time before the post goes.  Love to dear Ermine. 
Very sincerely yours,
R. Keith.

There was so shocked and startled a look on Colin’s face, that Tibbie believed that his brother must be dead, and when in a few almost inaudible words he told her that he must start for Bishopsworthy by the afternoon train, she fairly began to scold, partly by way of working off the irritation left by her alarm.  “The lad’s clean demented!  Heard ye ever the like, to rin awa’ frae his new-made wife afore the blessin’s been weel spoke; an’ a’ for the whimsie of that daft English lassie that made siccan a piece of work wi’ her cantrips.”

“I am afraid she is right now,” said the Colonel, “and my brother must not be left any longer.”

“Hout awa, Maister Colin, his lordship has come between you and your luve oft enough already, without partin’ ye at the very church door.  Ye would na have the English cast up to us, that one of your name did na ken better what was fittin by his bride!”