His cheeks were plump and sanguine; his eyes bright and cheerful; and the
tip of his nose glowed with a Bardolphian fire,--a flame, indeed, which
Hugh was so far a vestal as to supply with its necessary fuel at all
seasons of the year. But, as the spring advanced, he assumed a lean and
sallow look, wilting and fading in the sunshine that brought life and joy
to every animal and vegetable except himself. His winter patrons eyed him
with an austere regard; and some even practised upon him the modern and
fashionable courtesy of the "cut direct."
Yet, after all, there was good, or something that Nature intended to be
so, in the poor outcast,--some lovely flowers, the sweeter even for the
weeds that choked them. An instance of this was his affection for an aged
father, whose whole support was the broken reed,--his son. Notwithstanding
his own necessities, Hugh contrived to provide food and raiment for the
old man: how, it would be difficult to say, and perhaps as well not to
inquire. He also exhibited traits of sensitiveness to neglect and insult,
and of gratitude for favors; both of which feelings a course of life like
his is usually quick to eradicate.
At length the restraint--for such his father had ever been--upon Hugh
Crombie's conduct was removed by death; and then the wise men and the old
began to shake their heads; and they who took pleasure in the follies,
vices, and misfortunes of their fellow-creatures, looked for a speedy
gratification.
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