“Come away into the fire; it’s bonnie weather, but it’s sharp on the hillside,” said the mistress of Ramore. “I never wearied for you, Colin, so much as I’ve done this year. No that there was ony particular occasion, for we’ve a’ been real weel, and a good season, and baith bairns and beasts keeping their health; but the heart’s awfu’ capricious, and canna hear reason. Come in bye to the fire.”

“There’s been three days of east wind,” said the farmer, who had gone across the loch to meet his son, and bring him home in triumph, “which accounts for your mother’s anxiety, Colin. When there’s plenty of blue sky, and the sun shining, there’s naething she hasna courage for. What’s doing in{54} Glasgow? or rather what’s doing at the college? or maybe, if you insist upon it, what are you doing? for that’s the most important to us.”

To which Colin, who was almost as shy of talking of his own achievements as of old, gave for answer some bald account of the winding¹ up of the session, and of his own honours. “I told you all about it in my last letter,” he said, hurrying over the narrative²; “there was nothing out of the common. Tell me rather all the news of the parish. Who is at home and who is away, and if any of the visitors have come yet?” said the lad, with a conscious tremor³ in his voice. Most likely his mother understood what he meant.

“It’s ower early for visitors yet,” she said, “though I think for my part there’s nothing like the spring, with the days lengthening⁴, and the light aye eking⁵ and eking itself out. To be sure, there’s the east winds, which are a sore drawback, but they have nae great effect on the west coast. The castle woods are wonderful bonnie, Colin; near as bonnie as they were last year, when a’ thae bright English bairnies made the place look cheerful. I wonder the Earl bides⁶ there so seldom himself. He’s no rich, to be sure, but it’s a moderate kind of a place. If I had enough money I would rather live there than in the Queen’s palace, and so the minister says. You’ll have to go down to the manse the morn, and tell him a’ about your prizes, Colin,” said his proud mother, looking at him with beaming eyes. She put her hand upon her boy’s shoulder, and patted him softly as he stood beside her. “He takes a great interest in what you’re doing at the college,” she continued; “he says you’re a credit to the parish, and so I hope you’ll aye be,” said Mrs. Campbell. She had not any doubt on the subject so far as her own convictions went.

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