On New Year’s day Dr. Pringle received a letter from
India, informing him that his cousin, Colonel Armour, had died at
Hydrabad, and left him his residuary legatee. The same post
brought other letters on the same subject from the agent of the
deceased in London, by which it was evident to the whole family
that no time should be lost in looking after their interests in
the hands of such brief and abrupt correspondents.
“To say the least of it,” as the Doctor himself
sedately remarked, “considering the greatness of the
forth-coming property, Messieurs Richard Argent and Company, of
New Broad Street, might have given a notion as to the particulars
of the residue.” It was therefore determined that, as
soon as the requisite arrangements could be made, the Doctor and
Mrs. Pringle should set out for the metropolis, to obtain a
speedy settlement with the agents, and, as Rachel had now, to use
an expression of her mother’s, “a prospect before
her,” that she also should accompany them: Andrew, who had
just been called to the Bar, and who had come to the manse to
spend a few days after attaining that distinction, modestly
suggested, that, considering the various professional points
which might be involved in the objects of his father’s
journey, and considering also the retired life which his father
had led in the rural village of Garnock, it might be of
importance to have the advantage of legal advice.
Mrs. Pringle interrupted this harangue, by saying, “We
see what you would be at, Andrew; ye’re just wanting to
come with us, and on this occasion I’m no for making
step-bairns, so we’ll a’ gang thegither.”
The Doctor had been for many years the incumbent of Garnock,
which is pleasantly situated between Irvine and Kilwinning, and,
on account of the benevolence of his disposition, was much
beloved by his parishioners. Some of the pawkie among them
used indeed to say, in answer to the godly of Kilmarnock, and
other admirers of the late great John Russel, of that formerly
orthodox town, by whom Dr. Pringle’s powers as a preacher
were held in no particular estimation,—“He kens our
pu’pit’s frail, and spar’st to save outlay to
the heritors.” As for Mrs. Pringle, there is not such
another minister’s wife, both for economy and management,
within the jurisdiction of the Synod of Glasgow and Ayr, and to
this fact the following letter to Miss Mally Glencairn, a maiden
lady residing in the Kirkgate of Irvine, a street that has been
likened unto the Kingdom of Heaven, where there is neither
marriage nor giving in marriage, will abundantly testify.
