The other male members of the party were standing up also, “Here’s to you, Robbie! Here’s to you, Robbie!” cried the two boys. The foam in their glasses merely moistened their throats; the minister, however, whose glass had been full, gravely swallowed its contents in little sips, with pauses between. “A very good health to them all, and the Lord bless them,” he said with imposing authority. Mrs. Douglas, taking advantage of the privilege awarded to her, began to cry, and Marg’ret lifted up a strong voice, from the foot of the table where she stood with her hand upon the shoulder of the hero.
“Be a good lad, Robbie--and mind upon your Minnie and a’ the family--and be a credit to us a’: here’s to you, and to the rest o’ the young gentlemen, them that’s gone, and them that are to go!”
“Ye’ll have to get a new bottle for the little one,” said Aunt Eelen, “Neil, my man, for your half-dozen will be out with Jock.” She gave a harsh laugh at her own joke. “And then there’s the lasses’ marriages to be thought upon,” she added, setting down her glass.
Drumcarro resumed his seat, the ceremonial being over. “Let the lasses’ marriages alone,” he said impatiently. “I’ve enough to think upon with my lads. Now, Rob, are you sure you’re all ready? Your things packed and all your odds and ends put up? The less of them you take the better. Long before you’ve got the length of Calcutta ye’ll be wishing you had left the half of your portmanteaux at home.”
“Well, ye’ll be wishing ye had but one. Bring ben the hot water, Marg’ret; for wine’s but a feeble drink, and cold on the stomach. My wife never moves at the right time--will I give her a hint that you’re waiting, Eelen?”
“Not on my account, Drumcarro. Your champagne’s no doubt a grand drink; but a glass out of your tumbler, if you’re going to make one, is more wholesome and will set all right.”
“I thought ye would say that,” said the laird. She had said it already on every such occasion--so that perhaps his divination was not wonderful. He proceeded with care to the manufacture of “the tumbler,” at which the minister looked from the other end of the table with patient interest, abiding his time.
“Snuff the candles,” said the laird, “will nobody pay a little attention? You three little ones, you can run away with your apples, it’s near your bed-time; but don’t make more noise than you can help. Marg’ret, take the hot water to the minister. Champagne, as ye were saying, Eelen, is a grand drink; I think it right my sons should drink it at their father’s table before they plunge into the extravagance of a mess. It teaches a lad what he’s likely to meet with, and I would not have one of mine surprised with any dainty, as if he had come out of a poor house. But a wholesome glass like what I’m helping you to is worth twenty of it.” He was filling a wine-glass with his small silver toddy-ladle as he spoke, and the fumes of the pungent liquid rose in curls of steam pleasant to the accustomed nostrils. Robbie kept an eye upon the hot water which Mr. Pyper detained, knowing that one of the privileges of his position to-night was “to make a tumbler” for himself, with the privilege of offering it then to his sisters, as each of his brothers had done.