# Lindigo, the White Woman/Chapter 4

CHAPTER IV.
THE FIRST LETTER.
We left Mr. Brown proceeding on his way towards Mr. McKay's residence with his lordship's note. Mounted on a spirited horse, and dressed in his best livery, with his mind meditating on the sensation his appearance would create on the ignorant people he was going to visit. Approaching Mr. McKay's house in a swinging canter, the first person he encountered after springing out of his saddle with a cavalier air, was Mary Grant, who had been wondering what stylish gentleman was coming.
Brown, who was instantly struck with the pretty Highland lassie, brought all his fascinating powers to bear in order to take her tender heart by storm. Approaching her with a theatrical air, he presented Mr. McKay's note, at the same time placing his left hand on his heart, making a low bow, and addressing her in the following strain:—
"Hadorable Hangel, padon my presumption in presenting you with a billet which his lodship has done me the honour to convey to Mr. Maky, the gentleman of this Hestablishment."
Never before having been addressed in such high-flown language, moreover by such a handsome and well-dressed gentleman, Mary tripped away gaily on her mission, delivered the note to Mr. McKay, who, on perusing it, sent her back immediately to conduct the bearer to a room, where he was to be treated to eatables and drink.
On executing her commission, Mary was again besieged with a repetition of Mr. Brown's enconiums on her charms, which raised her vanity to the highest pitch, and sent her up-stairs (she hardly knew whether on her head or heels) to her young mistress' room; and which, on entering, she startled its fair occupant with the following effusion:—
"Darling Miss Bella! such a charming gentleman below with a letter to the master from some lord at the castle. You never heard such fine words as he said to me and such beautiful English. He called me his hadorable hangel, and many other fine things; and such splendid clothes, with a gold band round his hat! If ​Donald Munro had heard all the things he said to me; I am sure he would be jealous." Thus Mary went on in breathless excitement, casting stolen glances at herself in the mirror, to the amusement of her young mistress. The note from the castle, however, changed Bella's risibility to anxiety and fear, dreading that it might have some relation to the affair at the bridge of Linn.
Her speculation was soon interrupted by her father ringing for her, and with seeming happiness informed her that an English lord had purchased the estate, was now at the castle, and demanded his (Mr. McKay's) presence there.
Bella heard this news with terrible misgivings, which her looks betrayed to her astonished parent, and which did not tally with his own pleasant mood.
Mr. McKay met with a flattering and most hospitable reception at the castle from Lord Lundy and his gallant cousin, which he acknowledged with becoming politeness, and was greatly honoured by the many favours which the young nobleman had bestowed upon him, particularly the agency or the factorship of the estate.
He was quite charmed with the sense and judgment his lordship manifested in his future plans, particularly giving a bonfire and entertainment to the tenantry, which, he remarked, would restore harmony and good feeling between landlord and tenant, and remove any prejudices which the Highlanders would naturally entertain against a stranger, and an Englishman, or any clanish leanings towards their former unhappy laird.
Lord Lundy was glad that Mr. McKay approved of his arrangements, and left the management of the whole to him, with power not to spare any expense or trouble in bringing forth the gathering in the most elaborate and grand style, and after a few more remarks on different subjects, Mr. McKay took his leave, highly pleased with his visit and future prospects.
Great were the preparations at the castle during that week, and largely were the event of the approaching bonfire or fête discussed by all the tenants on the estate. Male and female, old and young, joined in the universal excitement. Yet there were three who used to be the ​leading stars and centre of attraction on such occasions, resolved not to attend the grand fête, or took but little interest in its attractions, although they withheld as yet their antipathy to the occasion. These three were the two Stuarts and our heroine, Bella.
Mr. McKay was puzzled at the conduct of his daughter, and her indifference to the coming event, when on every other lively occasion she invariably manifested great delight. One evening he rallied her, and set forth in glowing terms the fashionable attractions and amusements she would meet with at the castle; and above all, dancing, as formerly, with her old partner Charlie Stuart, whom he declared was grown a fine young man.
Bella blushed deeply on hearing her young neighbour's praises from the lips of her parent, but instantly remarked seriously, that she would far prefer remaining at home; and as for Charlie Stuart, she did not think he would attend either.
This unconscious betrayal of her feelings and opinion still more surprised her parent, who was unable to unravel the mystery.
Being now Mr. Stuart's successor in the factorship, and sole manager of the coming fête, and also the person entrusted for issuing invitations, he therefore thought proper to visit his neighbour personally, in order to remove any unpleasant effects which his appointment might create, or any prejudices which Mr. Stuart might entertain against the new proprietor.
On making his visit, Mr. McKay set forth in glowing terms Lord Lundy's many wise and excellent qualities, which he had no doubt, would greatly benefit the estate and the tenantry at large, and concluded by giving Mr. Stuart and his son a pressing invitation to the grand banquet which his Lordship's bountiful liberality offered them all.
Mr Stuart excused himself by saying "that he was growing too old to care about such entertainments, especially when the rightful proprietor was not to be the host, but with regard to Charlie, that he could go, of course, if he chose." His son at once interrupted him by remarking, "that he had no idea of attending, whether his parent did so or not."
​Mr. McKay was greatly disappointed and amazed at young people in these days, how little they cared about such amusements, and added "that his own daughter manifested the same indifference about going, and which he feared would be the case, having depended on Mr. Stuart bringing her in his carriage on that day, as he himself would be early at the Castle conducting the arrangements, and not wishing to bring his daughter that early."
Mr. Stuart and his son sought each others looks, when the elder remarked, "that he would certainly consent, for Bella's sake," which admission greatly pleased their neighbour, who left in far better spirits than he expected, at the satisfactory termination of his mission.
That evening Bella McKay, as was her wont lately, sat at the window of her room, with an elbow resting on the sill, and her delicate white hand supporting her transparent brow, with her eyes fixed on some object opposite. A great change had taken place within a few days in the looks and manner of the charming girl.
The rosy, laughing young creature, whose buoyant spirits were the theme of everyone, was now changed into the pale and thoughtful woman, Mary Grant's lively chatter was unable to rouse her pensive young mistress, or divert her thoughts from the one object which haunted her mind. Charlie Stuart's despairing and endearing words—"Bella, dear, live for me!"—were still ringing in her ears.
Strong, indeed, must be the feelings, she thought, which prompted her former shy and modest playfellow to give utterance to such expressions. She wondered at her own blindness in not discovering before now his many noble qualities, and handsome and manly person. Her father's remarks concerning him—"That he was grown to be the handsomest young man in the country"—opened her eyes, and revealed all his superior qualities, and instilled through her pleasant and delightful sensations, which gave her new life.
The object of her gaze and reverie was no less affected with the malady which had taken possession of herself. Ever since that eventful morning, his gun, fishing-rod, ​and boat, were neglected. His station was taken up—particularly at eventide, when Donald Munro played on the lawn—in his room, with the window raised up, and a telescope in his hand, levelled at a certain object in a window opposite. His father attributed his son's change and dejection to his own cause, namely, the downfall of their chief and laird. This, although it partly added to his depression for his parent's sake, was not sufficient to create such a sudden revolution in his lively spirits.
Bella McKay's feeble and despairing cry, "Charlie, dear, save me!" sounded still in his ears. Her beautiful form, when she lay helpless in his arms, haunted his thoughts. She was no longer the lively little child of former years, but a beautiful budding flower, which wanted all his care and attention to protect from the wanton advances of the bold libertine.
While Bella, as before-mentioned, was ruminating and calling to her mind many pleasant hours passed in the company of her young neighbour Mary Grant tripped into the room, and, after closing the door carefully after her, pulled a small billetdoux from her bosom, laying her left hand on her heart, in that attitude which Brown enacted towards herself, and making a low reverence, said—"A love-letter, my dear madam!"
Bella coloured unconsciously on recognising the hand-writing although this had been the first addressed to herself; she therefore with trembling fingers broke the seal, and read as follows:—"My Dear Bella,—I have not had an opportunity of a private interview with you, to ascertain whether it is your intention to grace the coming fête at the castle. From some hints, however, which dropped from your papa to-day I inferred that you have objections, which, although he is unable to comprehend, I can easily divine. I also hold the same objections, knowing, of course, that our common enemy is included in Lord Lundy's retinue. However, to lull all suspicions, I consider it more advisable for you to submit to your father's wishes, and my attendance accordingly I consider imperative. It has been arranged that my father will drive you in his carriage, so that we shall call for you on our way. Let me know your ​intentions by Donald, who, by the bye, is glad to have an opportunity of having a chat with Mary.—Yours sincerely, C. Ewd. Stuart."
Bella lingered for some time re-perusing and repeating each sentence, and overjoyed at the interest the writer had taken in her behalf by resolving to accompany her at the risk of the consequences which might follow. At last the impatient maid, who fidgetted by her side, longing for another chat with her lover, reminded her young mistress that Donald was waiting for an answer. Instantly procuring writing materials, she penned the following reply: "My Dear Charlie,—Many thanks for your kind interest in my behalf. I shall be indeed guided by your advice, having such a sincere friend to protect me in a place where I have the greatest antipathy to enter, and which will be solely to please papa.—Yours sincerely, Bella McKay."
This billet was joyfully carried by Mary in her bosom, casting a mischievous look at her blushing young mistress when closing the door after her; but the tormenting little maid did not wait for a rebuke, if such was in store for her, for the quick patting of her small feet down stairs left Bella, in great relief, to commune once more with her own pleasant thoughts, and which we shall not disturb, or pry too closely into, but follow her maid. On delivering the note privately to her lover, a long chat ensued, in which the coming bonfire was the principal subject. Mary concluded by giving Donald a detail of the compliments passed by Mr. Brown on her own beauty, his fascinating manners, and, above all, the attention she expected to receive from him at the bonfire, which would raise the jealousy of all the other young girls. The thoughtless Mary, so full of her own pleasant anticipations, never dreamt that she was kindling a raging jealousy in the bosom of her true lover, which he partly manifested at parting, by not bestowing upon her his accustomed kiss, which greatly surprised the young maid.