The shining boots crashed the gravel, and the white dress gleamed
through the darkness, some time after the young men were seated in Mr
Elphinstone's handsome drawing-room. The master of the mansion sat
alone when they entered, gazing into a small, bright coal fire, which,
though it was not much past midsummer, burned in the grate. For Mr
Elphinstone was an invalid, with little hope of being other than an
invalid all his life, though he was by no means an old man yet.
If he had been expecting visitors, he had forgotten it, for they had
come quite close to him before he looked up, and he quite started at the
sound of Mr Millar's voice. He rose and received them courteously and
kindly, however. Mr Elphinstone in his own drawing-room was a
different person, or rather, he showed a different manner from Mr
Elphinstone in his counting-room in intercourse with his clerks; and
Harry, who had had none but business intercourse with him, was struck
with the difference. It required an effort for him to realise that the
bland, gentle voice was the same that he had so often heard in brief and
prompt command.
Business was to be ignored to-night, however. Their talk was of quite
other matters. There was an allusion to the new partnership, and to Mr
Millar's half-brother, the new partner, who at the moment, as they all
knew, was passing along the garden walk with a little white hand on his
coat-sleeve. This was not alluded to, however, though each thought his
own thoughts about it, in the midst of their talk. That those of Mr
Elphinstone were rather agreeable to himself, the lads could plainly
see. He had no son, and that his partner and nephew should fall into a
son's place was an idea that pleased him well. Indeed, it had cost him
some self-denial to-night not to intimate as much to him after the
pretty Lilias had withdrawn, and the smile that Harry was stealthily
watching on his face, was called up by the remembrance of the admiration
which his daughter had evidently called forth. Harry watched the smile,
and in his heart called the new partner "lucky," and "cute," and looked
at Charlie's discontented face with a comic astonishment that would have
excited some grave astonishment to their host, if by any chance he had
looked up to see. Though why Charlie should look discontented about it,
Harry could not well see.
They talked about indifferent matters with a little effort till the
white dress gleamed in the firelight, and a soft voice said--
"What, still in the dark, papa!"
The lights came in, and Harry was introduced to Miss Elphinstone. He
had shared Rosie's interest in the lady of the pony-carriage, long ago,
and had sometimes seen and spoken with her in the garden in those days,
but he had not seen her since her return from Scotland, where her last
three years had been spent. A very sweet-looking and graceful little
lady she was, though a little silent and shy at first, perhaps in
sympathy, Harry thought, with the tall, bearded gentleman who had come
in with her.
It was evidently Harry's interest to be on good terms with the new
partner, and common politeness might have suggested the propriety of
some appearance of interest in him and his conversation. But he turned
his back upon the group by the fire, and devoted himself to the
entertainment of their young hostess who was by this time busy with her
tea-cups in another part of the room. There was some talk about the
weather and the voyage and sea-sickness, and in the first little pause
that came, the young lady looked up and said,--
"You don't live in the house opposite now, I think."
It was the first voluntary remark she had made, and thankful for a new
opening, Harry said,--
"No; my sisters were never quite contented there. We left it as soon as
possible; and we are quite at the other end of the town now."
"And is your little sister as fond of flowers as ever?"
"Rose? Oh, yes! She has a garden of her own now, and aspires to rival
the pansies and verbenas of Mr Stirling, even."
Miss Elphinstone smiled brightly.
"I remember the first time she came into the garden."
"Yes, that was a bright day in Rosie's life. She has the gowans you
gave her still. The garden was a great resource to her in those days."
"Yes; so she said. I was very glad. I never gathered gowans among the
hills at home, but I seemed to see that pretty shy face looking up at
me."
"Yes," said Harry, meditatively, "Rose was a very pretty child."
Mr Millar had drawn near by this time. Indeed, the other gentlemen
were listening too, and when Miss Elphinstone looked up it was to meet a
very wondering look from the new partner.
"By the by, Mr Elliott," said her father, breaking rather suddenly into
the conversation, "whom did your elder brother marry?"
"Marry!" repeated Charles.
"He is not married," said Harry.
"No? Well he is to be, I suppose. I saw him walking the other day with
a young lady. Indeed, I have often seen them together, and I thought--"
"It was my sister, I presume," said Harry.
"Perhaps so. She was rather tall, with a pale, grave face--but pretty--
quite beautiful indeed."
"It was Graeme, I daresay. I don't know whether other people think her
beautiful or not."
Harry did not say it, but he was thinking that his sister seemed
beautiful to them all at home, and his dark eyes took the tender look of
Graeme's own as he thought. It vanished quickly as a heavy hand was
laid on his shoulder, and he turned to meet the look of the new partner.
"You don't mean that you are the Harry Elliott that sailed with me in
the `Steadfast,' ten years ago."
"Yes, I am Harry Elliott, and I crossed the sea in the `Steadfast' ten
years ago. I knew _you_ at the first glance, Mr Ruthven."
"I never should have known you in the least," said Mr Ruthven. "Why,
you were quite a little fellow, and now you can nearly look down on me."
"I never thought of that," said Harry, looking foolish.
"And you thought the new partner fancied himself too big a man to know
you," said Charlie. "And that's the reason you took umbrage at him, and
told your sister he was--ahem, Harry?"
Miss Elphinstone's laugh recalled Charlie to a sense of propriety, and
Harry looked more foolish than ever. But Mr Ruthven did not seem to
notice what they were saying.
"I never should have known you. I see your father's look in you now--
and you have your elder sister's eyes. Why did you not write to me as
you promised?"
"We did write--Norman and I both, and afterwards Graeme. We never heard
a word from you."
"You forget, it was not decided where you were to settle when I left
you. You promised to write and tell me. I wrote several times to your
father's friend in C---, but I never heard from him."
"He died soon after we arrived," said Harry.
"And afterward I heard of a Reverend Mr Elliott in the western part of
New York, and went a day's journey thinking I had found you all at last.
But I found this Mr Elliott was a very young man, an Englishman--a
fine fellow, too. But I was greatly disappointed."
Harry's eyes grew to look more like Graeme's than ever, as they met
Allan's downward gaze.
"I can't tell you how many Mr Elliotts I have written to, and then I
heard of your father's death, Harry, and that your sisters had gone home
again to Scotland. I gave up all hope then, till last winter, when I
heard of a young Elliott, an engineer--Norman, too--and when I went in
search of him, he was away from home; then I went another fifty miles to
be disappointed again. They told me he had a sister in a school at
C---, but Rose never could have grown into the fair, blue-eyed little
lady I found there, and I knew it could not be either of the others, so
I only said I was sorry not to see her brother, and went away."
Harry listened eagerly.
"I daresay it was our Norman, and the little girl you saw was his
adopted sister, Hilda. If Norman had only known--" said Harry. And
then he went on to tell of how Norman had saved the little girl from the
burning boat, and how he had cared for her since. By and by they spoke
of other things and had some music, but the new partner said little, and
when it was time for the young men to go, he said he would walk down the
street with them.
"So, Charlie, you have found the friends who were so kind to me long
ago," said his brother, as they shut the gate.
"Yes," said Charlie, eagerly, "I don't know how I should have lived in
this strange land without them. It has been a different place to me
since Harry came to our office, and took me home with him."
"And I suppose I am quite forgotten."
"Oh, no, indeed!" said Harry, and Charlie added--
"Don't you mind, Harry, your sister Rose said to-night that I reminded
Miss Elliott of some one she knew long ago. It was Allan, I daresay,
she meant. My mother used to say I looked as Allan did when he went
away."
They did not speak again till they came near the house. Then Charlie
said,--
"It is not very late, Harry. I wonder whether they are up yet. There
is a light."
"Allan," said Harry, lingering behind, "Marian died before my father.
Don't speak of her to Graeme."
Graeme was still sitting on the steps.
"Miss Elliott," whispered Charlie, eagerly, "who is the new partner, do
you think? Did I ever tell you my half-brother's name? It is Allan
Ruthven."
Graeme gave neither start nor cry, but she came forward holding out her
hands to the tall figure who came forward with an arm thrown over
Harry's shoulder. They were clasped in his.
"I knew you would come. I was quite sure that some time we should see
you again," said Graeme, after a little.
"And I--I had quite lost hope of ever finding you," said Allan. "I
wonder if you have missed me as I have missed you?"
"We have been very happy together since we parted from you," said
Graeme, "and very sorrowful, too. But we never forgot you, either in
joy or sorrow; and I was always sure that we should see you again."
They went into the house together. Rose, roused from the sleep into
which she had fallen, stood very much amazed beneath the chandelier.
"You'll never tell me that my wee white Rose has grown into a flower
like this!" said Allan.
It was a bold thing for him to do, seeing that Rose was nearly as tall
as her sister; but he clasped her in his arms and kissed her "cheek and
chin" as he had done that misty morning on the deck of the "Steadfast"
so many years ago.
"Rose," said Graeme, "it is Allan--Allan Ruthven. Don't you remember.
I was always sure we should see him again."
They were very, very glad, but they did not say so to one another in
many words. The names of the dead were on their lips, making their
voices trembling and uncertain.
"Arthur," said Rose, as they were all sitting together a day or two
after, "you have forgotten to tell us about the party."
"You have forgotten to ask me, you mean. You have been so taken up with
your new hero that I have had few of your thoughts."
Mr Ruthven smiled at Rose from the other side of the table.
"Well, tell us about it now," said she. "You must have enjoyed it
better than you expected, for more than one of the `small-hours' had
struck before you came home."
"Oh, yes, I enjoyed it very well. I met young Storey, who has just
returned from Europe. I enjoyed his talk very much. And then Mrs
Gridley took me under her protection. She is a clever woman, and
handsome, too."
"Handsome!" echoed Rose. "Why she is an old woman, with grown-up
daughters. And if you were to see her by daylight!"
They all laughed.
"Well, that might make a difference. But she says very clever, or maybe
very sharp, things about her neighbours, and the time passed quickly
till supper. It was rather late but I could not leave before supper--
the event of the evening."
"I should think not," said Harry.
"Well, we won't ask about the supper, lest it might make Harry
discontented with his own. And what happened after supper?"
"Oh! after supper Mr Grove and his friend Barnes began to discuss the
harbour question, and I very foolishly allowed myself to be drawn into
the discussion. Mr Green was there, the great western merchant. He is
a long-headed fellow, that. You must know him, Mr Ruthven."
"I know him well. He is a remarkably clever business-man, and a good
fellow; though, I suppose, few know it so well as I do. I had a long
illness in C once, and he nursed me as if I had been a brother. I might
have known him for years in the way of business, without discovering his
many excellent qualities. He has the name of being rather hard in the
way of business, I believe?"
"He has a clear head of his own," said Arthur; "I enjoyed a talk with
him very much. He intends visiting Europe, he tells me."
"Well, what next?" said Rose, to whom Mr Green and his good qualities
were matters of indifference.
"Then I came home. Mr Green walked down the street with me."
"And didn't you see Miss Grove, the belle of the evening!" exclaimed
Rose.
"Oh, yes! I had the honour of an introduction to her. She is a pretty
little thing."
"Pretty! Is that all you can say for the belle? How does she look? Is
she fair or dark? What colour are her eyes?"
"I can hardly say. She would be called fair, I think. I can't say
about her eyes. She has a very pretty hand and arm, and--is aware of
it."
"Don't be censorious, Arthur! Does she wear curls? And what did she
say to you?"
"Curls! I cannot say. I have the impression of a quantity of hair, not
in the best order toward the end of the evening. She seemed to be
dancing most of the time, and she dances beautifully."
"But she surely said something to you. What did you talk about?"
demanded Rose, impatiently.
"She told that if she were to dance all the dances for which she was
engaged, she wouldn't get home till morning."
"You don't mean to say you asked her to dance?"
"Oh, no! She volunteered the information. I could have waited so long
as to have the honour."
"And, of course, you can't tell a word about her dress?"
"I beg your pardon," said Arthur, searching his pocket. "It must be in
my other vest. I asked Mrs Gridley what the young lady's dress was
made of, and put it down for your satisfaction. Rosie, I hope I haven't
lost it."
"Arthur! what nonsense!" said Graeme, laughing. "I am sure Mrs Gridley
was laughing in her sleeve at you all the time."
"She hadn't any sleeve to laugh in. But when I told her that I was
doing it for the benefit of my little sister Rosie, she smiled in her
superior way."
"I think I see her," said Rosie, indignantly. "But what was her dress,
after all? Was it silk or satin?"
"No, nothing so commonplace as that. I could have remembered silk or
satin. It was--"
"Was it lace, or gauze, or crape?" suggested Rose.
"Or tarltan or muslin?" said Graeme, much amused.
"Or damask, or velvet, or cloth of gold, or linsey-woolsey?" said Harry.
Arthur assumed an air of bewilderment.
"It was gauze or crape, I think. No; it had a name of three syllables
at least. It was white or blue, or both. But I'll write a note to Mrs
Gridley, shall I, Rosie?"
"It would be a good plan. I wonder what is the use of your going to
parties?"
"So do I, indeed," said her brother. "I am quite in the dark on the
subject. But I was told in confidence that there are cards to be issued
for a great entertainment in Grove House, and I should not wonder if my
`accomplished sisters'--as Mrs Gridley in her friendly way calls them--
were to be visited in due form by the lady of the Grove preparatory to
an invitation to the same. So be in readiness. I think I should write
the note to Mrs Gridley, Rosie; you'll need a hint."
Graeme laughed, while Rose clapped her hands.
"I am not afraid of the call or the invitation," said Graeme.
But they came--first the call, which was duly returned, and then the
invitation. That was quite informal. Mrs Grove would be happy if Miss
Elliott and her sister would spend the evening at her house to meet a
few friends. To their surprise, Harry, as well as Arthur, came home
with a little pink note to the same effect.
"I didn't know that you knew the Groves, Harry," said Arthur.
"Oh, yes, I know Mr Grove in a general way; but I am invited through a
mistake. However, I shall go all the same. I am not responsible for
other people's mistakes. Nothing can be plainer than that."
"A mistake!" repeated several voices.
"Yes; Mrs Grove thinks I am a rising man, like the squire here; and why
undeceive her? I shall add to the brilliancy of her party, and enjoy it
mightily myself. Why undeceive her, I ask?"
"Don't be nonsensical, Harry," said Rose.
"How came Mrs Grove to make such an absurd mistake?" said Arthur,
laughing.
"She's _cute_, I know; still it was not surprising in the circumstances.
I met her on the street yesterday, and I saw the invitation in her eyes
as plainly as I see this little pink concern now;" and he tossed the
note to Rose. "I think I should send the acceptance to Miss
Elphinstone. It was she who obtained the invitation for me."
"Miss Elphinstone!"
"Yes, or Jack, or both, I should perhaps say. For if Jack had been at
his post, I should not have been politely requested to call a carriage
for Miss Elphinstone, and Mrs Grove would not have seen me escorting
her down the street as she sat in her carriage at Alexander's door. I
know she was thinking I was very bold to be walking on N Street with my
master's daughter. Of course she didn't know that I was doing the work
of that rascal Jack. And so I am going to the Grove party, unless,
indeed, there is any objection to our going _en masse_. Eh, Graeme?"
"It is not a party, only a few friends," said Rose, eagerly.
"Certainly, we'll all go," said Arthur. "If they had not wanted us all,
they would not have asked us. Of course, we'll all go for once."
"But, Graeme," said Harry, coming back after he had left to go away,
"don't let the idea of `a few friends' delude you. Make yourselves as
fine as possible. There will be a great crowd, you may be sure. Miss
Elphinstone and Mr Ruthven are invited, and they are not among the
intimate friends of such people as the Groves. Shall I send you home a
fashion book, Rosie?"
"Or write a note to Mrs Gridley," said Arthur.
Rose laughed. She was pleasantly excited at the prospect of her first
large party, there was no denying it. Indeed, she did not seek to deny
it, but talked merrily on, not seeing, or not seeming to see, the
doubtful look on Graeme's face. She alone, had not spoken during the
discussion. She had not quite decided whether this invitation was so
delightful as Rosie thought, and in a little when her sister had left
the room, she said--
"Shall I accept the invitation then for Rose and me?"
"Have you not accepted yet? you need not of course, unless you wish.
But I think you will enjoy it, and Rosie, too."
"Yes, but I am by no means sure, that I like Mrs Grove," said she,
hesitating.
"Are you not?" said her brother, laughing. "Well, I have got much
farther than you. I am sure that I don't like her at all. But, what of
that?"
"Only that I don't fancy accepting kindness, from a person I don't like,
and to whom I don't think it would be pleasant to repay in kind."
"Oh! nonsense. The obligation is mutual. Her kindness will be quite
repaid, by having a new face in her splendid rooms. And as for repaying
her in kind, as you call it, that is quite out of the question. There
are not a dozen people in town who do the thing on the scale the Groves
attempt. And besides, Rosie would be disappointed."
Graeme did not believe that it was the best thing that could happen to
Rosie, to be gratified in this matter, but she did not say so.
"After all," thought she, "I daresay there is no harm in it. I shall
not spoil the pleasure of the rest, by not seeming to enjoy it. But I
don't like Mrs Grove."
The last words were emphatically repeated. She did not like her. She
did not wish to see her frequently, or to know her intimately. She
wished she had neither called, nor invited them. She wished she had
followed her first impulse, which had been to refuse at once without
referring to her brothers. Now, however, she must go with a good grace.
So they all went, and enjoyed it very much, one and all, as they found
on comparing notes around the bright little fire, which Nelly had kept
burning, against their return.
"Only," said Rosie, with a little shamefacedness, "I am not sure that
Graeme liked me to dance quite so much."
Graeme was not sure either, but she did not think this the best time to
speak about it. So she did not.
"But how you ever learned to dance is a mystery to me," said Arthur,
"and Harry too, I saw him carrying off Miss Elphinstone, with all the
coolness imaginable. Really, the young people of the present day amaze
me."
"Oh! one can dance without learning," said Rose, laughing. "The music
inspires it."
"And I have danced many a time before," said Harry. "You are not sorry
you went, are you Graeme?"
"Sorry! no indeed! I have had a very pleasant evening."
And so had they all. Mrs Grove had made a great effort to get a great
many nice and clever people together, and she had succeeded. It had
required an effort, for it was only lately, since his second marriage,
that Mr Grove had affected the society of clever people, or indeed, any
society at all. There were people who fancied that he did not affect it
yet, and who pitied him, as he wandered about, or lingered in corners
among the guests, that his more aspiring wife managed to bring together.
He did not enjoy society much, but that was a small matter in the
opinion of his wife. He was as little of a drawback to the general
enjoyment, as could be expected in the circumstances. If he was not
quite at his ease, at least he was seldom in anybody's way, and Mrs
Grove was quite able to do the honours for both. Mr Grove was a man
whom it was not difficult to ignore, even in his own dining-room.
Indeed, the greatest kindness that could be shown to the poor little man
in the circumstances, was to ignore him, and a great deal of this sort
of kind feeling was manifested towards him by his guests.
On the first entrance of Arthur and Graeme, their host fastened on the
former, renewing with great earnestness a conversation commenced in the
morning in the young man's office. This did not last long, however.
The hostess had too high an opinion of Mr Elliott's powers of pleasing,
to permit them to be wasted on her husband, so she smilingly carried him
off, leaving Mr Grove, for the present, to the tender mercies of
Graeme. He might have had a worse fate; for Graeme listened and
responded with a politeness and interest, to which he was little
accustomed from his wife's guests. Before he became unbearably tedious,
she was rescued by Mr Ruthven, and Mr Grove went to receive Mr Elias
Green, the great western merchant, a guest far more worthy of his
attention than any of the fine ladies and gentlemen, who only knew him
in the character of feast-maker, or as the stupid husband of his
aspiring wife.
Graeme had seen Allan Ruthven often since that first night. They had
spoken of the pleasant and painful things that had befallen them, since
they parted so long ago, or they might not have been able to walk so
quietly up and down the crowded rooms, as they did for a while. Then
they found a quiet, or rather a noisy, corner in the music room, where
they pursued their conversation unmolested, till Harry brought Miss
Elphinstone to be introduced to Graeme.
This was a mutual pleasure, for Graeme wished to know the young lady who
had long been Rosie's ideal of all that was sweet and beautiful, and
Miss Elphinstone was as pleased to become the friend of one whom her
cousins Allan and Charlie admired so much. And when she begged
permission to call upon her and Rose, what could Graeme do, but be
charmed more and more. Then Miss Elphinstone was claimed for another
dance, and who should present himself again but their host, and with him
the guest of the evening, the great western merchant! Then there were a
few minutes not so pleasant, and then Mr Green proposed that they
"should make the tour of the rooms." But Graeme had not the courage for
such an ordeal, and smilingly begged to be excused; and so he sat down
beside her, and by and by, Graeme was surprised to find herself
interested in his conversation. Before he had been a great merchant.
Mr Green had been a farmer's boy among the hills of Vermont, and when
he knew that Miss Elliott had passed seven happy years in a New England
village, he found enough to say to her; and Graeme listened and
responded, well pleased.
She had one uncomfortable moment. It was when the supper movement began
to be made, and the thought flashed upon her, that she must be led to
the supper room, by this western giant. Mr Ruthven saved her from
this, however, to the discontent of the giant, who had been so engaged
in talking and listening, as not to have perceived that something
interesting was about to take place. The sight of the freely flowing
champagne gave Graeme a shock, but a glance at Harry reassured her.
There was no danger for him to-night. Yes, they had all enjoyed it,
they acknowledged, as they lingered over the fire after their return.
"But, Arthur," said Graeme, "I was disappointed in Miss Grove. She is
pretty, certainly, but there is something wanting--in expression I mean.
She looks good tempered, but not intellectual."
"Intellectual!" repeated Arthur. "No. One would hardly make use of
that word in describing her. But she is almost the prettiest little
thing I ever saw, I think."
"And she certainly is the silliest little thing I ever saw," said Harry.
"Rosie, if I thought you capable of talking such stuff, as I heard from
her pretty lips to-night, _I_ would--"
Arthur laughed; less, it seemed, at what Harry had said, than at what it
recalled.
"She is not likely to astonish the world by her wisdom, I should think,"
said he, as he rose to go up-stairs. "Nor Rosie either, for that
matter," he added, laughing, and looking back.
"None of us are giving great proof of wisdom just now, I think," said
Graeme. "Come, Rosie, Nelly will lose patience if breakfast is kept
waiting. Good-night, Harry. Don't sit long."