Heaven Knows Who Read Free Page B

she didn’t like troubling Mrs Campbell all the time to open it to her. Oh, and could Mrs Adams come in and sit with the child while she was out that evening?—she would only be an hour or so.
    Mary Adams agreed, but by half-past nine she had not turned up, nor had the smith arrived. (Mrs Adams had in fact forgotten all about him). Mrs M’Lachlan was not unduly worried by her non-arrival. Mrs Campbell was easy and good-natured and would let her in when she got back from Jess’s, which shouldn’t be later than eleven; and if the boy woke and cried while she was out, would go along and hush him to sleep again. She tucked him up in bed and put on her cloak and began to tie the strings, of her bonnet.…
    It was a ‘drab-coloured’ velvet bonnet, a sort of rather dull light brown; and the cloak was light grey. Beneath it she wore a dark brown coberg gown—a fine wool or wool-and-cotton mixture, rather like cashmere—with a trimmed bodice and, round its crinolined skirt, two flounces. It was only her well-worn everyday going-out gown; but within a few days it was to become one of the two most talked about dresses in all England and Scotland. The other was cinnamon coloured trimmed with blue velvet and had no flounces.
    As she stood there tying up her bonnet someone knocked at the front door. Mrs Campbell, who was getting ready for bed, went and answered it; her preparations apparently did not include undressing, so no doubt she did not keep the visitors waiting. She probably thought it was her own lodger, the sailor, John Mac-Donald; but it wasn’t, it was a Mrs Fraser, a friend of Jessie’s, with her two children. Mrs Campbell showed them down to the room at the end of the corridor and went and got back into bed.
    Jessie was happy enough to see Christina Fraser, but she was already rather pressed for time. A friend’s child was ill and she had been remiss in not enquiring after it and had intended calling in on her way to Sandyford Place. She was rather late already; and besides she had meant to beg a small favour. Her sister Ann was, like Jess, contemplating emigrating to Australia and the sick child’s father, James M’Gregor, was in a position to write her a certificate of good character. However, so was Mrs Fraser, who had known them all from their childhood, and that would do instead. Mrs Fraser was happy to oblige and sat down with pen and paper. But Jessie had no envelopes and she went along to Mrs Campbell’s room and asked if Mrs Campbell’s daughter would mind running round to the post office for her and getting some. (They seem to have kept late hours in the Broomielaw. It was after half-past nine, but a three-year-old child had only just been put to bed, Mrs Fraser with her children was out visiting, far from home, Jessie herself had not yet even started out; and the local post office was still open for the sale of envelopes).
    Mrs Campbell was, as we have seen already—fully dressed—in bed. The girl went off for the envelopes and duly came back with them; and meanwhile Mrs M’Lachlan went across to what in fact was the kitchen cupboard and took out an empty glass bottlewhich belonged to Mrs Campbell. She said nothing to its owner about it, but it was, after all, only an empty bottle and she probably gave no thought as to whose it was. With this in her hand and carrying a little black basket, borrowed from Mrs Campbell, she called to Tommy Fraser and together they went round the corner to a shop in Argyle Street for ‘a dram’ to offer to her guest. A gill and a half of rum was measured out into the bottle, at a cost of sevenpence ha’penny; she would give Mrs Fraser a glass and have a drop with her and then take the rest round to Jess. She bought a few biscuits to go with the rum and, having been out only a few minutes, she and Tommy went back to the house. Mrs Fraser was waiting for them and let them in, not troubling Mrs