We are approaching the solution. In mid-winter, Jean, once
more in the family way, was turned out of doors by her
family; and Burns had her received and cared for in the house
of a friend. For he remained to the last imperfect in his
character of Don Juan, and lacked the sinister courage to
desert his victim. About the middle of February (1788), he
had to tear himself from his Clarinda and make a journey into
the south-west on business. Clarinda gave him two shirts for
his little son. They were daily to meet in prayer at an
appointed hour. Burns, too late for the post at Glasgow,
sent her a letter by parcel that she might not have to wait.
Clarinda on her part writes, this time with a beautiful
simplicity: "I think the streets look deserted-like since
Monday; and there's a certain insipidity in good kind folks I
once enjoyed not a little. Miss Wardrobe supped here on
Monday. She once named you, which kept me from falling
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.
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