"I don't suppose anything I could say would help you to see things as I
wish you did, if I were to talk all night. Talk always falls short of
the mark, unless the heart is prepared for it, and then the simplest
word is enough. There are none better than the words I gave you a
minute ago; and when everything in the world seems to be failing you,
just you try what trust in the Lord will do."
Nothing more was said. The sound of approaching footsteps warned them
that they were no longer alone, and in a little Mrs Elliott and Rose
were seen coming up the walk, followed by Arthur and Captain Starr.
They were discussing something that interested them greatly, and their
merry voices fell pleasantly on the ear. Very pretty both young ladies
looked, crowned with the roses they had been weaving into wreaths. The
grave look which had settled on Mr Green's face, passed away as he
watched their approach.
"Pretty creatures, both of them," remarked he. "Mrs Elliott appears
well, don't she? I never saw any one improve so much as she has done in
the last two years. I used to think her--well not very superior."
"She is a pretty little thing, and good tempered, I think," said Mr
Snow, smiling. "I shouldn't wonder if our folks made something of her,
after all. She is in better keeping than she used to be, I guess."
"She used to be--well, a little of a flirt, and I don't believe she has
forgot all about it yet," said Mr Green, nodding in the direction of
Captain Starr, with a knowing look. The possibility of a married
woman's amusing herself in that way was not among the subjects to which
Mr Snow had given his attention, so he had nothing to say in reply.
"And the other one--she understands a little of it, too, I guess."
"What, Rosie? She is a child. Graeme will teach her better than that.
She despises such things," said Mr Snow, warmly.
"She don't flirt any herself, does she?" asked Mr Green, coolly. "Miss
Elliott, I mean."
Mr Snow turned on him astonished eyes. "I don't know as I understand
what you mean by flirting. I always supposed it was something wrong,
or, at least, something unbecoming in any woman, married or single.
Graeme ain't one of that sort."
Mr Green shrugged his shoulders incredulously. "Oh! as to its being
wrong, and so forth, I don't know. They all do it, I guess, in one way
or other. I don't suppose Miss Graeme would go it so strong as that
little woman, but I guess she knows how."
The voice of Rose prevented Mr Snow's indignant reply.
"But, Arthur, you are not a disinterested judge. Of course you would
admire Fanny's most, and as for Captain Starr, he is--"
"He is like the ass between two bundles of hay."
"Nonsense, Arthur. Fanny, let us ask Mr Snow," said Rose, springing
forward, and slightly bending her head. "Now, Uncle Sampson, which is
prettiest? I'll leave the decision to you."
"Uncle Sampson" was a very pleasant sound in Mr Snow's ears, and never
more so, than when it came from the lips of Rose, and it was with a
loving as well as an admiring look that he answered--
"Well I can't say which is the prettiest. You are both as pretty as you
need to be. If you were as good as you are pretty!"
Rose pouted, impatient of the laughter which this speech excited.
"I mean our wreaths. Look, mine is made of these dear little Scotch
roses, with here and there a moss-rose bud. Fanny's, you see, are all
open roses, white and damask. Now, which is the prettiest?"
She took her wreath from her head in her eagerness, and held it up,
admiringly.
"Yours ain't half so pretty as it was a minute ago. I think, now, I
should admire Mrs Elliott's most," said Mr Green, gravely.
They both curtseyed to him.
"You see, Rosie, Mr Green has decided in my favour," said Fanny,
triumphantly.
"Yes, but not in favour of your wreath. The others thought the same,
but I don't mind about that. It is our wreaths I want to know about.
Let us ask Graeme."
But Graeme did not come alone. The little Groves came with her, and
Will and Charlie followed, a rather noisy party. The little girls were
delighted, and danced about, exclaiming at the beauty of the flowery
crowns; and in a little, Miss Victoria was wearing that of Rose, and
imitating the airs and graces of her elder sister in a way that must
have encouraged her mother's hopes as to her ultimate success in life.
The other begged piteously for Fanny's, but she was too well aware of
its charming effect on her own head to yield at once to her entreaties,
and, in the midst of the laughing confusion that accompanied the
carrying of the child's point, Graeme and Mrs Snow, who confessed
herself a little tired after her walk, entered the summer-house again.
Mrs Grove and Mr Proudfute entered with them, and the others disposed,
themselves in groups about the door. Mr Green stood leaning on the
door-post looking in upon them.
"Miss Elliott," said Mr Proudfute, presently, "what has become of you
for a long time? I have hardly seen you for years--for a year at
least--and we used to meet so often." Graeme laughed.
"I have seen you a great many times within a year. I am afraid my
society doesn't make the impression on you it ought. Have you forgotten
your New Year's visit, and a visit or two besides, to say nothing of
chance meetings in the street and in the market?"
"Oh, but excuse me. I mean we have not met in society. You have been
making a hermit of yourself, which is not very kind or very
complimentary to your friends, I assure you."
"I am very glad to hear you say so," exclaimed Mrs Grove. "That is a
subject on which Miss Elliott and I never agree--I mean the claims
society has upon her. If she makes a hermit of herself, I assure you
she is not permitted to do so without remonstrance."
"Your ideas of a hermit's life differ from those generally held," said
Graeme, vexed at the personal turn of the conversation, and more vexed
still with Mrs Grove's interference. "What does the ballad say?
"`A scrip with fruits and herbs well stored,
And water from the spring.'
"I am afraid a hermit's life would not suit me."
"Oh! of course, we are speaking of comparative seclusion," said Mrs
Grove. "Still, as ladies are supposed to have a fancy for going to
extremes, Miss Elliott's taste for quietness is the most desirable
extreme of the two."
The remark was addressed to Mr Green, who was an interested listener,
but Mr Proudfute answered it.
"I am by no means sure of that, my dear madam. I can understand how
those who have an opportunity of daily or frequent intercourse with Miss
Elliott should be content to think so; but that she should withdraw
herself altogether from society, should not be permitted. What charming
parties, I remember, we used to enjoy."
"Mr Proudfute," said Graeme, gravely, "look at Mrs Snow's face. You
are conveying to her the idea that, at one time, I was quite given up to
the pursuit of pleasure, and she is shocked, and no wonder. Now, my own
impression is, that I was never very fond of going into society, as you
call it. I certainly never met you more than two or three times--at
large parties, I mean."
Mr Proudfute bowed low.
"Well, that shows how profound was the impression which your society
made on me, for on looking back I uniformly associate you with all the
pleasant assemblies of the season. You went with us to Beloeil, did you
not?"
Graeme shook her head.
"Well, no wonder I forget, it is so long ago, now. You were at Mrs
Roxbury's great affair, were you not? It happened not long before Mr
Elphinstone's death. Yes, I remember you were there."
"Yes, I remember you were kind enough to point out to me the beauties of
that wonderful picture, in the little room up-stairs," said Graeme,
smiling.
"Yes, you were ill, or slightly unwell, I should say, for you recovered
immediately. You were there, Mr Green, I remember. It was a great
affair, given in honour of Miss Elphinstone and your friend Ruthven.
By-the-by, Miss Elliott, they lay themselves open to censure, as well as
you. They rarely go out now, I hear."
"I am to be censured in good company, it seems," said Graeme, laughing.
"I suppose you see them often," continued he. "You used to be quite
intimate with my pretty cousin--I call her cousin, though we are only
distantly connected. She is a very nice little woman."
"Yes. I believe you used to be very intimate with them both," said Mrs
Grove, "and there has hardly been any intercourse since Fanny's
marriage. I have often wondered at and regretted it."
"Have you?" said Graeme, coldly. "We have had little intercourse with
many old friends since then."
"Oh! yes, I daresay, but the Ruthvens are very different from most of
your old friends, and worth the keeping. I must speak to Fanny about
it."
"We saw Miss Elphinstone often during the first winter after her return.
That was the winter that Mr Proudfute remembers as so gay," said
Graeme. "Did I ever tell you about the beginning of Rosie's
acquaintance with her, long before that, when she wandered into the
garden and saw the gowans?"
"Yes, dear, you told me about it in a letter," said Mrs Snow.
"I never shall forget the first glimpse I got of that bunch of flowers,"
said Graeme, rather hurriedly. "Rose has it yet among her treasures.
She must show it you."
But Mrs Grove did not care to hear about Rosie's flowers just then, and
rather perversely, as Graeme thought, reverted to the falling away of
their old intimacy with the Ruthvens, and to wonder at its cause; and
there was something in her tone that made Mrs Snow turn grave,
astonished eyes upon her, and helped Graeme to answer very quietly and
coldly to her remark:
"I can easily see how marriage would do something towards estranging
such warm friends, when only one of the parties are interested; but you
were very intimate with Mr Ruthven, as well, were you not?"
"Oh! yes; more so than with Miss Elphinstone. Mr Ruthven is a very old
friend of ours. We came over in the same ship together."
"I mind him well," interposed Mrs Snow; "a kindly, well-intentioned lad
he seemed to be. Miss Rose, my dear, I doubt you shouldna be sitting
there, on the grass, with the dew falling, nor Mrs Arthur, either."
A movement was made to return to the house.
"Oh! Janet," whispered Graeme, "I am afraid you are tired, mind as well
as body, after all this foolish talk."
"By no means, my dear. It wouldna be very edifying for a continuance,
but once in a way it is enjoyable enough. He seems a decent, harmless
body, that Mr Proudfute. I wonder if he is any friend of Dr
Proudfute, of Knockie?"
"I don't know, indeed," said Graeme, laughing; "but if he is a great
man, or connected with great folk, I will ask him. It will be an easy
way of giving him pleasure."
They did not make a long evening of it. Mr Green was presented by Mrs
Grove with a book of plates, and Graeme was beguiled to a side-table to
admire them with him. Mr Proudfute divided his attention between them
and the piano, to which Rose and Fanny had betaken themselves, till at
the suggestion of Mrs Grove, Arthur challenged him to a game of chess,
which lasted all the evening. Mrs Grove devoted herself to Mrs Snow,
and surprised her by the significant glances she sent now and then in
the direction of Graeme and Mr Green; while Mr Grove got Mr Snow into
a corner, and enjoyed the satisfaction of pouring out his heart on the
harbour question to a new and interested auditor.
"Rose," said Fanny, as they sat together the next day after dinner,
"what do you think mamma said to me this morning? Shall I tell you?"
"If it is anything particularly interesting you may," said Rose, in a
tone that implied a doubt.
"It was about you," said Fanny, nodding significantly.
"Well, the subject is interesting," said Rose, "whatever the remark
might be."
"What is it, Fanny?" said Arthur. "Rose is really very anxious to know,
though she pretends to be so indifferent. I daresay it was some
appropriate remark's on her flirtation with the gallant captain, last
night."
"Mamma didn't mention Captain Starr, but she said she had never noticed
before that Rose was so fond of admiration, and a little inclined to
flirt."
Rose reddened and bit her lips.
"I am much obliged to Mrs Grove, for her good opinion. Were there any
other appropriate remarks?"
"Oh! yes; plenty more," said Fanny, laughing. "I told mamma it was all
nonsense. She used to say the same of me, and I reminded her of it. I
told her we all looked upon Rose as a child, and that she had no idea of
flirting--and such things."
"I hope you did not do violence to your conscience when you said it,"
said Arthur, gravely.
"Of course not. But still when I began to think about it, I could not
be quite sure."
"Set a thief to catch a thief," said her husband.
Fanny shook her finger at him.
"But it wasn't Captain Starr nor Charlie Millar mamma meant. It was Mr
Green."
The cloud vanished from Rosie's face. She laughed and clapped her
hands. Her brothers laughed, too.
"Well done, Rosie," said Arthur. "But from some manoeuvring I observed
last night, I was led to believe that Mrs Grove had other views for the
gentleman."
"So she had," said Fanny, eagerly. "And she says Rose may spoil all if
she divides his attention. It is just what a man of his years is likely
to do, mamma says, to fall in love with a young girl like Rosie, and
Graeme is so much more suitable. But I told mamma Graeme would never
have him."
"Allow me to say, Fanny, that I think you might find some more suitable
subject for discussion with Mrs Grove," said Rose, indignantly. Arthur
laughed.
"You ought to be very thankful for the kind interest taken in your
welfare, and for Graeme's, too. I am sure Mr Green would be highly
flattered if he could be aware of the sensation he is creating among
us."
"Mr Green admires Graeme very much, he told mamma; and mamma says he
would have proposed to her, when he was here before, if it had not been
for Mr Ruthven. You know he was very intimate here then, and everybody
said he and Graeme were engaged. Mamma says it was a great pity he did
not. It would have prevented the remarks of ill-natured people when Mr
Ruthven was married--about Graeme, I mean."
"It is be hoped no one will be ill-natured enough to repeat anything of
that sort in Graeme's hearing," said Arthur, very much annoyed.
"Oh! don't be alarmed. Graeme is too well accustomed by this time, to
Mrs Grove's impertinences, to allow anything she says to trouble her,"
said Rose, with flashing eyes.
Mrs Snow's hand was laid softly on that of the young girl, who had
risen in her indignation.
"Sit down, my dear," she whispered.
"Nonsense, Rosie," said her brother; "there is nothing to be vexed
about. How can you be so foolish?"
"Indeed," said Fanny, a little frightened at the excitement she had
raised, "mamma didn't mean anything that you wouldn't like. She only
thought--"
"We had better say nothing more about it," said Arthur, interrupting
her. "I dare say Graeme can manage her own affairs without help from
other people. But there is nothing to be vexed about, Rosie. Don't put
on a face like that about it, you foolish lassie."
"What is the matter here, good people?" said Graeme, entering at the
moment. "What are you quarrelling about? What ails Rosie?"
"Oh! Mrs Grove has been giving her some good advice, which she don't
receive so meekly as she might," said Arthur.
"That is very ungrateful of you, Rosie," said her sister. Mrs Grove's
interference didn't seem a sufficient matter to frown about.
"How is she now, my dear?" inquired Mrs Snow, by way of changing the
subject.
_She_ was Mrs Tilman, who had of late become subject to sudden attacks
of illness, "not dangerous, but severe," as she herself declared. They
had become rather frequent, but as they generally came on at night, and
were over before morning, so that they did not specially interfere with
her work, they were not alarming to the rest of the household. Indeed,
they seldom heard of them till they were over; for the considerate Mrs
Tilman was wont to insist to Sarah, that the ladies should not be
disturbed on her account. But Sarah had become a little uncomfortable,
and had confessed as much to Graeme, and Graeme desired to be told the
next time she was ill, and so it happened that she was not present when
a subject so interesting to herself was discussed.
"Is Mrs Tilman ill again?" asked Fanny. "How annoying! She is not
very ill, I hope."
"No," said Graeme, quietly; "she will be better to-morrow."
That night, in the retirement of their chamber, Mr and Mrs Snow were
in no haste to begin, as was their custom, the comparing of notes over
the events of the day. This was usually the way when anything not very
pleasant had occurred, or when anything had had been said that it was
not agreeable to recall. It was Mr Snow who began the conversation.
"Well, what do you think of all that talk?" asked he, when his wife sat
down, after a rather protracted putting away of various articles in
boxes and drawers.
"Oh! I think little of it--just what I have ay thought--that yon is a
meddlesome, short-sighted woman. It is a pity her daughter hasna the
sense to see it."
"Oh! I don't think the little thing meant any harm. But Rosie flared
right up, didn't she?"
"I shouldna wonder but her conscience told her there was some truth in
the accusation--about her love of admiration, I mean. But Mrs Arthur
is not the one that should throw stones at her for that, I'm thinking."
"But about Graeme! She will never marry that man, will she?"
"He'll never ask her," said Mrs Snow, shortly. "At least I think he
never will."
"Well, I don't know. It looked a little like it, last night and come to
think of it, he talked a little like it, too."
"He is no' the man to ask any woman, till he is sure he will not ask in
vain. He may, but I dinna think it."
"Well, perhaps not. Of course, I could see last night, that it was all
fixed, their being together. But I thought she stood it pretty well,
better than she would if she hadn't liked it."
"Hoot, man! She thought nothing about it. Her thoughts were far enough
from him, and his likes, and dislikes," said Mrs Snow, with a sigh.
"As a general thing, girls are quick enough to find out when a man cares
for them, and he showed it plainly to me. I guess she mistrusts."
"No, a woman kens when a man his lost his heart to her. He lets her see
it in many ways, when he has no thought of doing so. But a woman is not
likely to know it, when a man without love wishes to marry her, till he
tells her in words. And what heart has twenty years cheat'ry of his
fellow men left to yon man, that my bairn should waste a thought on a
worldling like him?"
Mr Snow was silent. His wife's tone betrayed to him that something was
troubling her, or he would have ventured a word in his new friend's
defence. Not that he was inclined to plead Mr Green's cause with
Graeme, but he could not help feeling a little compassion for him, and
he said:
"Well, I suppose I feel inclined to take his part, because he makes me
think of what I was myself once, and that not so long ago."
The look that Mrs Snow turned upon her husband was one of indignant
astonishment.
"Like you! You dry stick!"
"Well, ain't he? You used to think me a pretty hard case. Now, didn't
you?"
"I'm no' going to tell you to-night what I used to think of you," said
his wife, more mildly. "I never saw you on the day when you didna think
more of other folks' comfort than you thought of your own, and that
couldna be said of him, this many a year and day. He is not a fit mate
for my bairn."
"Well--no, he ain't. He ain't a Christian, and that is the first thing
she would consider. But he ain't satisfied with himself, and if anybody
in the world could bring him to be what he ought to be, she is the one."
And he repeated the conversation that had taken place when they were
left alone in the summer-house.
"But being dissatisfied with himself, is very far from being a changed
man, and that work must be done by a greater than Graeme. And besides,
if he were a changed man to-night, he is no' the man to win Miss
Graeme's heart, and he'll no ask her. He is far more like to ask Rosie;
for I doubt she is not beyond leading him on for her own amusement."
"Oh! Come now, ain't you a little too hard on Rosie," said Mr Snow,
expostulatingly. He could not bear that his pet should be found fault
with. "I call _that_ as cruel a thing as a woman can do, and Rosie
would never do it, I hope."
"Not with a conscious desire to give pain. But she is a bonny creature,
and she is learning her own power, as they all do sooner or later; and
few make so good a use of such power as they might do;" and Mrs Snow
sighed.
"You don't think there is anything in what Mrs Grove said about Graeme
and her friend I have heard so much about?" asked Mr Snow, after a
pause.
"I dinna ken. I would believe it none the readier that yon foolish
woman said it."
"She seems kind of down, though, these days, don't she? She's graver
and quieter than she used to be," said Mr Snow, with some hesitation.
He was not sure how his remark would be taken.
"Oh! well, maybe. She's older for one thing," said his wife, gravely.
"And she has her cares; some of them I see plainly enough, and some of
them, I daresay, she keeps out of sight. But as for Allan Ruthven, it's
not for one woman to say of another that, she has given her heart
unsought. And I am sure of her, that whatever befalls her, she is one
of those that need fear no evil."