Chapter 11 - Page 2

had little doubt that, trained as she was to view the
monks of Saint Mary's with such profound reverence, she would be but
too happy in an opportunity of enrolling one of her sons in its
honoured community. But the good Father proved to be mistaken in both
these particulars.

When he spoke to Elspeth Glendinning of that which a mother best loves
to hear--the proficiency and abilities of her son--she listened with a
delighted ear. But when Father Eustace hinted at the duty of
dedicating to the service of the Church, talents which seemed fitted
to defend and adorn it, the dame endeavoured always to shift the
subject; and when pressed farther, enlarged on her own incapacity, as
a lone woman, to manage the feu; on the advantage which her neighbours
of the township were often taking of her unprotected state, and on the
wish she had that Edward might fill his father's place, remain in the
tower, and close her eyes.

On such occasions the Sub-Prior would answer, that even in a worldly
point of view the welfare of the family would be best consulted by one
of the sons entering into the community of Saint Mary's, as it was not
to be supposed that he would fail to afford his family the important
protection which he could then easily extend towards them. What could
be a more pleasing prospect than to see him high in honour? or what
more sweet than to have the last duties rendered to her by a son,
reverend for his holiness of life and exemplary manners? Besides, he
endeavoured to impress upon the dame, that her eldest son, Halbert,
whose bold temper and headstrong indulgence of a wandering humour,
rendered him incapable of learning, was, for that reason, as well as
that he was her eldest born, fittest to bustle through the affairs of
the world, and manage the little fief.

Elspeth durst not directly dissent from what was proposed, for fear of
giving displeasure, and yet she always had something to say against it.
Halbert, she said, was not like any of the neighbour boys--he was
taller by the head, and stronger by the half, than any boy of his
years within the Halidome. But he was fit for no peaceful work that
could be devised. If he liked a book ill, he liked a plough or a
pattle worse. He had scoured his father's old broadsword--suspended it
by a belt round his waist, and seldom stirred without it. He was a
sweet boy and a gentle if spoken fair, but cross him and he was a born
devil. "In a word," she said, bursting into tears, "deprive me of
Edward, good father, and ye bereave my house of prop and pillar; for
my heart tells me that Halbert will take to his father's gates, and
die his father's death."

When the conversation came to this crisis, the good-humoured monk was