"Take it up, Ness take it up," drawled Brodie, ignoring completely the interruption. "We know what puts the pith into a body. Ye might be downright starved if it wasna for me. I'm not the one to let ye sit through a three hours' examination with nothing inside of ye to stand up to it." He was in his element, reaping the fruits of his labour with her, his vicissitudes forgotten, the stabbing memory of Nancy for the present eased, and, opening his mouth in a broader and more derisive smile, he exclaimed, "Gad! It's joist occurred to me that maybe that snipe o' a Grierson is sittin' at the table, watchin' that whelp o' his stap down his breakfast and wonderin’ what'n all the world he's goin' to make o' himself the day. Ay, it's a rich thought for me." His smile dried up, became bitter. "The Provost o' the Borough, forsooth the fine, easy spokesman o' the town. God! He's lookin' gey small and mean and anxious this mornin', I'll wager." He paused for a moment then, observing that Nessie, who had succeeded in finishing the porridge, was sipping her egg and milk, he cried roughly, as though the bitterness of the thought of Grierson had not quite left him, "Here! Take a scone and butter to that slush if ye will drink it." He glowered at Mary, adding, "Some folks would make a jaw box o' that stomach of yours!" then, returning his glance to Nessie, he continued, in an admonishing tone. "Don't flicker your een like that, woman; you would think that it was a frichtsome business that you were goin' up for to-day, instead o' an easy osey piece of writin' that you've got to do. It's all in your head, waitin' to come out. All that's to do is to take up your pen and write it down. Is that anything to upset ye so that you take a scunner at the good, wholesome porridge?" He reviewed the profound wisdom of his logic blandly, then, as though the absurdity of her nervousness suddenly irritated him, he shot at her questioningly,
"What the de'il is it you're feared of? Are ye not my daughter? What is there in this and about it all to make ye grue like that?"
She thought of the lofty examination hall, filled by the scratching of a score of fiercely competitive pens; she saw the silent, black-gowned figure of the examiner upon his rostrum sitting severe and omnipotent like a judge; she saw her own small, bowed insignificant figure writing feverishly but, veiling her gaze, she replied hurriedly:
"There's nothing I'm afraid of, Father! It's maybe the thought of the journey that's upsetting me a bit. I'm not thinkin' of the Latta at all. They might have posted the result already, for all the good it'll do the others to go up."
He smiled at her again broadly, exclaiming:
"That's more like the spirit! That's more like my daughter! We havena put ye through your paces for nothing. Now that I'm showin' you, ye maun step high when you're in the ring." He paused, pleased by his comparison, which combined with his present elation and the excitement of her departure, reminded him vaguely of those days when he had set out for the Cattle Show, and he cried, "You're on show the day, Nessie, and I'm proud of ye. I know before ye go up who'll come back with the red ticket round her neck. My daughter, Nessie Brodie that's the name that'll be on everybody's lips. We're goin' to startle the town between us. By God! They'll look the other way along their noses when they meet me now. We'll show them!" He considered her fondly, almost admiringly, remarking, after
a moment, "Gad! It fair beats me, when I look at that wee head o' yours and think on all that's in it. Latin and French and mathematics, and heaven knows a' what. And yet it's no bigger than my fist. Ay! It's a true word that good gear gangs in small bulk. It's the quality that counts. It's downright gratify in' for a man to see his own brains comin' out in his daughter; ay, and to be able to give her the opportunity. When I was your age I never had a chance like you."
He sighed commiseratingly. "No! I would have gone far had I been given the chance, but I had to get out into the world and make my own way. There were no Lattas in those days or I would have lifted the whole jing bang o' them." He lifted his eyes to her and exclaimed in an altered, excited tone, "But it'll be different with you, Nessie. You'll have your chance. I'll see to that. You'll see what I'll do for ye when you've won the Latta. I'll I'll I'll push ye on to the highest ye can go." He banged his fist upon the table and considered her triumphantly, adding, "Are ye not pleased with what I'm doin' for ye?"
"Yes, Father," she murmured. "I'm I'm real pleased at it all."
"And I should think so!" he cried. "There's not a man in Levenford would have done what I've done for ye. See that ye don't forget it!
When ye come back with that Latta don't let it fly to your head. Remember who has done it for you!"
She glanced at him timidly, as she remarked in a low voice:
"You're not expecting me to bring it home to-night, Father? It'll be a good while before the result comes out a fortnight, anyway!"
As though she had suddenly baulked him of the keen zest of his enjoyment, his look took on a sudden displeasure.
"Are ye off again on that tack? What's all this goin’ on about results? Do you think I expect ye to bring the money back in a bag? I know it'll come in good time. I know it's for your studies. I'm not just gaspin' for't. But I seem to feel that you Ye gettin' anxious as to whethei you'll get your fingers on it or not."
"Oh! No, Father," she said hastily, "I'm not thinking about that at all. I was just afraid ye might think I would know for sure tonight."
"For sure," he repeated slowly; "are ye not 'for sure' already?"
"Yes! Yes!" she cried. "I'm sure. I'm dead positive about it. I hardly know what I'm saying, I'm so excited at going up to the University."
"Don't let all this grand excitement run awa' with you," he replied warningly. "Remember you Ye sixteen years old now, and if that's not old enough for you to have some control, then you'll never have it. Don't lose your heid, that's all I say! Have ye got a' things that you need your pen and your nibs and your rubber and what not ?"
"I get everything I want up there," she answered meekly. "Everything like that is supplied to us."
"I see! Well, in that case ye canna very well say ye had forgotten your pen." He paused and looked at the clock. "It's gettin' near time for your train. Have ye eaten your fill of everything?"
She felt her stomach turn uneasily as she whispered:
"Yes, Father."
He arose and went over to his pipe rack, remarking complacently:
"Well, I've done my bit of the business, anyway."
As he turned his back, Mary moved nearer to her sister, saying in a low tone, close to Nessie's ear:
"I'll go down to the station with you, Nessie, just to keep you company and see that you get away all right. I'll not worry you by speaking."
"What's that?" cried Brodie, turning like a flash. He had, unfortunately, heard something of her words. "You'll go down to the station, will ye?" he sneered. "Indeed now! That is verra considerate of ye. You'll do this and you'll do that with your interfering the same sleekit way that your mother used to have. Is Nessie not capable of walkin' a few yards by herself, that you must tie a bit of string round her neck and lead her along?" His sneer became a snarl. "Have I not told ye to leave my Nessie alone? You'll go to no station. You’ll do nothing for her. Shell go down by herself." He turned to Nessie. "You don't want her botherin' you, do you, hinny?"
Her eyes fell as she faltered, in a faint voice, "No, Father, not if you say it."
Brodie returned his glance to Mary with a dark insolence.
"You see!" he cried. "She doesna want ye! Keep out of what doesna concern ye. I'll do all that's wanted. I'll get her things for her myself this morning. Here! Nessie! Where's your hat and coat? I'm goin' to see you to the door." He swelled at the thought of the honour he was conferring upon her as she dumbly indicated the sofa where, brushed, sponged and pressed, lay the worn, blue serge jacket of her, every-day wear the only one she now possessed and her straw hat which now bravely flaunted a new satin band bought by her sister and stitched in place by her devoted fingers. He lifted the coat and hat, handed them to her, assisted her even, in the fullness of his service, to assume the coat so that she now stood, a small, indescribably pathetic figure, clothed and ready for her journey. He patted her upon the shoulder with an extravagant flourish, exclaiming, as though he had dressed her fully with his own hands, "There now! you're all set up for the road. Do ye not think it's a great honour for you that