asleep. I drank your health in a glass of ale - as the
lasses do at Hallowe'en - 'in to mysel'.' " Arrived at
Mauchline, Burns installed Jean Armour in a lodging, and
prevailed on Mrs. Armour to promise her help and countenance
in the approaching confinement. This was kind at least; but
hear his expressions: "I have taken her a room; I have taken
her to my arms; I have given her a mahogany bed; I have given
her a guinea. . . . I swore her privately and solemnly never
to attempt any claim on me as a husband, even though anybody
should persuade her she had such a claim - which she has not,
neither during my life nor after my death. She did all this
like a good girl." And then he took advantage of the
situation. To Clarinda he wrote: "I this morning called for
a certain woman. I am disgusted with her; I cannot endure
her;" and he accused her of "tasteless insipidity, vulgarity
of soul, and mercenary fawning." This was already in March;
by the thirteenth of that month he was back in Edinburgh. On
the 17th, he wrote to Clarinda: "Your hopes, your fears, your
cares, my love, are mine; so don't mind them. I will take
you in my hand through the dreary wilds of this world, and
scare away the ravening bird or beast that would annoy you."
Again, on the 21st: "Will you open, with satisfaction and
delight, a letter from a man who loves you, who has loved
you, and who will love you, to death, through death, and for
ever. . . . How rich am I to have such a treasure as you! . .
. 'The Lord God knoweth,' and, perhaps, 'Israel he shall
know,' my love and your merit. Adieu, Clarinda! I am going
to remember you in my prayers." By the 7th of April,
seventeen days later he had already decided to make Jean
Armour publicly his wife.