SUNNA AND THORA
Love, the old, old troubler of the world.
Love has reasons, of which reason knows nothing.
Alas, how easily things go wrong!
A sigh too much, or a kiss too long,
And there follows a mist and a weeping rain
And life is never the same again.
No sooner was Mrs. Brodie's intention known, than all her friends were
eager to help her. There was truly but little time between Monday
morning and Wednesday night; but many hands make light work, and old
and young offered their services in arranging for what it pleased all
to consider as a kind of national thanksgiving.
The unanimity of this kindness gave Rahal a slight attack of a certain
form of jealousy, to which she had been subject for many years, and
she asked her husband, as she had done often before, "Why is it, Coll,
that every woman in the town is eager to help and encourage Barbara
if she only speaks of having a dance or dinner; but if I, thy wife, am
the giver of pleasure, I am left to do all without help or any show of
interest. It troubles me, Coll."
And Coll answered as he always did answer--"It is thy superiority,
Rahal. Is there any woman we know, who would presume to give thee
advice or counsel? And it is well understood by all of them that thou
cannot thole an obligation. Thou, and thy daughter, and thy servants
are sufficient for all thy social plans; and why should thou be
bothered with a lot of old and young women? Thy sister Brodie loves a
crowd about her, and she says 'thank thee' to all and sundry, as
easily as she takes a drink of water. It chokes thee to say 'thanks'
to any one."
So Rahal was satisfied, and went with the rest to help Mistress Brodie
prepare for her dance. There were women in the kitchen making pies and
custards and jellies, and women in her parlours cleaning and
decorating them, and women in the great hall taking up carpets because
it was a favourite place for reels, and women washing China and
trimming lamps. Thora was doing the shopping, Ian was carrying the
invitations; and every one who had been favoured with one had not
only said "Yes," but had also asked if there was anything they could
loan, or do, to help the impromptu festival. Thus, Mrs. Harold Baikie
sent her best service of China, and the Faes sent several extra large
lamps, and the bride of Luke Serge loaned her whole supply of
glassware, and Rahal took over her stock of table silver; and Mistress
Brodie received every loan--useful or not--with the utmost delight and
satisfaction.
On Wednesday afternoon, however, she was faced by a condition she did
not know how to manage. Ian came to her in a hurry, saying, "My
friend, McLeod, is longing for an invitation from you, and he has
asked me to request one. Surely you will send him the favour! Yes, I
know you will."
"You are knowing too much, Ian. What can I do? You know well, laddie,
he is not popular with the best set here."
"I would not mind the 'best set' if I were you. What makes them 'the
best'? Just their own opinion of themselves. McLeod is of gentle
birth, he is handsome and good-hearted, you will like him as soon as
you speak to him. There is another 'best set' beside the one Adam
Vedder leads; I would like some one to take down that old man's
conceit of himself--there is nothing wrong with McLeod! Yes, he is
Highland Scotch----"
"There! that is enough, Ian! Go your ways and bid the young man. Ask
him in your own name."
"No, Mistress, I will not do that. The invitation carries neither
honour nor good will without your name."
"Well then, my name be it. My name has been so much used lately, I
think I will change it."
"Take my name then. I will be proud indeed if you will."
"You are aye daffing, Ian; I am o'er busy for nonsense the now. Give
the Mac a hint that tartans are not necessary."
"But I cannot do that. I am going to wear the Macrae tartan."
"You can let that intent go by."
"No, I can not! A certain 'yes' may depend on my wearing the Macrae
tartan."
"Well, checked cloth is bonnier than black broadcloth to some people.
I don't think Thora Ragnor is among that silly crowd. There is not a
more quarrelsome dress than a tartan kilt--and I'm thinking the
Brodies were ill friends with the Macraes in the old days."
"The Brodies are not Highlanders."
"You are a shamefully ignorant man, Ian Macrae. The Brodies came from
Moray, and are the only true lineal descendants of Malcolm Thane of
Brodie in the reign of Alexander the Third, lawful King of Scotland.
What do you think of the Brodies now?"
"The Macrae doffs his bonnet to them; but----"
"If you say another word, the McLeod will be out of it--sure and
final."
So Ian laughingly left the room, and Mistress Brodie walked to the
window and watched him speeding towards the town. "He is a wonderful
lad!" she said to herself. "And I wish he was my lad! Oh why were all
my bairns lasses? They just married common bodies and left me! Oh for
a lad like Ian Macrae!" Then with a great sigh, she added: "It is all
right. I would doubtless have spoiled and mismanaged him!"
It is not to be supposed that Sunna Vedder kept away from all this
social stir and preparation. She was first and foremost in everything
during Monday and Tuesday, but Wednesday she reserved herself
altogether for the evening. No one saw her until the noon hour; then
she came to the dinner table, for she had an entirely fresh request to
make, one which she was sure would require all her personal influence
to compass.
She prefaced it with the intelligence that Boris had arrived during
the night, and that Elga had met him in the street--"looking more
handsome than any man ought to look, except upon his wedding day."
"And on that day," said Adam, gloomily, "a man has generally good
cause to look ugly."
"But if he was going to marry me, Grandfather, how then?"
"He would doubtless look handsome. Men usually do when they are on the
road of destruction."
"Grandfather! I have made up my mind to marry Boris, and lead him the
way I want him to go. That will always be the way thou chooseth."
"How comes that?"
"I loved thee first of all. I shall always love thee first. Boris
played me false, I must pay him back. I must make him suffer. Those
Ragnors--all of them--put on such airs! They make me sick."
"What art thou after? What favour art thou seeking?"
"Thou knows how the girls will try to outdress each other at this
Brodie affair----"
"It is too late for a new dress--what is it thou wants now?"
"I want thee to go to the bank and get me my mother's necklace to wear
just this one night."
"I will not. I gave thy dead mother a promise."
"Break it, for a few hours. My Easter dress is not a dancing dress. I
have no dancing dress but the pretty white silk thou gave me last
Christmas--and I have no ornaments at all--none whatever, fit to wear
with it."
"There are always flowers----"
"Flowers! There is not a flower in Kirkwall. Easter and old Mistress
Brodie have used up every daisy--besides, white silk ought to have
jewels."
Adam shook his head positively.
"My mother wishes me to have what I want. Thou ought not to keep it
from me."
"She told me to give thee her necklace on thy twenty-first birthday--not
before."
"That is so silly! What better is my twenty-first birthday than any
other day? Grandfather, I cannot love thee more, because my love for
thee is already a perfect love; but I will be such a good girl if thou
wilt give me what I want, O so much I want it! I will be so obedient!
I will do everything thou desires! I will even marry Boris Ragnor."
And this urgent request was punctuated with kisses and little fondling
strokes of her hand, and Adam finally asked--
"How shall I answer thy mother when she accuses me of breaking my
promise to her?"
"I will answer for thee. O dear! It is growing late! If thou dost not
hurry, the bank will be closed, and then I shall be sick with
disappointment, and it will be thy fault."
Then Adam rose and left the house and Sunna, having seen that he took
the proper turn in the road, called for a cup of tea and having
refreshed herself with it, went upstairs to lay out and prepare
everything for her toilet. And as she went about this business she
continually justified herself:--
"It is only natural I should have my necklace," she thought. "Norse
women have always adored gold and silver and gems, and in the old days
their husbands sailed long journeys and fought battles for what their
women wanted. My great Aunt Christabelle often told me that many of
the old Shetland and Orkney families had gold ornaments and uncut
gems, hundreds of years old, hid away. I would not wonder if
Grandfather has some! I dare say the bank's safe is full of them! I do
not care for them but I do want my mother's wedding necklace--and I am
going to have it. Right and proper it is, I should have it now. Mother
would say so if she were here. Girls are women earlier than they were
in her day. Twenty-one, indeed! I expect to be married long before I
am twenty-one."
In less than an hour she began to watch the road for her grandfather's
return. Very soon she saw him coming and he had a small parcel in his
hand. Her heart gave a throb of satisfaction and she began to unplait
her manifold small braids: "I shall not require to go to bed," she
murmured. "Grandfather has my necklace. He will want to take it back
to the bank tomorrow--I shall see about that--I promised--yes, I know!
But there are ways--out of a promise."
She was, of course, delightfully grateful to receive the necklace, and
Vedder could not help noticing how beautiful her loosened hair
looked. Its length and thickness and waves of light colour gave to
her stately, blonde beauty a magical grace, and Vedder was one of
those men who admire the charms of his own family as something
naturally greater than the same charms in any other family. "The
Vedders carry their beauty with an air," he said, and he was right.
The Vedders during the course of a few centuries of social prominence
had acquired that air of superiority which impresses, and also
frequently offends.
Certainly, Sunna Vedder in white silk and a handsome necklace of
rubies and diamonds was an imposing picture; and Adam Vedder, in spite
of his sixty-two years, was an imposing escort. It would be difficult
to say why, for he was a small man in comparison with the towering
Norsemen by whom he was surrounded. Yet he dominated and directed any
company he chose to favour with his presence; and every man in
Kirkwall either feared or honoured him. Sunna had much of his natural
temperament, but she had not the driving power of his cultivated
intellect. She relied on her personal beauty and the many natural arts
with which Nature has made women a match for any antagonist. Had she
not heard her grandfather frequently say "a beautiful woman is the
best armed creature that God has made! She is as invincible as a
rhinoceros!"
This night he had paid great attention to his own toilet. He was
fashionably attired, neat as a new pin, and if not amiable, at least
exceedingly polite. He had leaning on his arm what he considered the
most beautiful creature in Scotland, and he assumed the manners of her
guardian with punctilious courtesy.
There was a large company present when the Vedders reached Mrs.
Brodie's--military men, a couple of naval officers, gentlemen of
influence, and traders of wealth and enterprise; with a full
complement of women "divinely tall and fair." Sunna made the sensation
among them she expected to make. There was a sudden pause in
conversation and every eye filled itself with her beauty. For just a
moment, it seemed as if there was no other person present.
Then Mrs. Brodie and Colonel Belton came to meet them, and Sunna was
left in the latter's charge. "Will you now dance, Miss Vedder?" he
asked.
"Let us first walk about a little, Colonel. I want to find my friend,
Thora Ragnor."
"I have long desired an introduction to Miss Ragnor. Is she not
lovely?"
"Yes, but now only for one man. A stranger came here last week, and
she was captured at once."
"How remarkable! I thought that kind of irresponsible love had gone
quite out of favour and fashion."
"Not so! This youth came, saw, and conquered."
"Is it the youth I see with Ken McLeod?"
"The same. Look! There they are, together as usual."
"She is very sweet and attractive."
Sunna answered this remark by asking Thora to honour Colonel Belton
with her company for a short time, saying: "In the interval I will
take care of Ian Macrae." Then Thora stood up in her innocence and
loveliness and she was like some creature of more ethereal nature than
goes with flesh and blood. For the eye took her in as a whole, and at
first noticed neither her face nor her dress in particular. Her dress
was only of white tarlatan, a thin, gauze-like material long out of
fashion. It is doubtful if any woman yet remembers its airy, fairy
sway, and graceful folds. The filmy robe, however, was plentifully
trimmed with white satin ribbon, and the waist was entirely of satin
trimmed with tarlatan. The whole effect was girlish and simple, and
Thora needed no other ornament but the pink and white daisies at her
belt.
However, if Sunna expected Thora's manner and conversation to match
the simplicity of her dress, she was disappointed. In Love's school
women learn with marvellous rapidity, and Thora astonished her by
falling readily into a conversation of the most up-to-date social
character. She had caught the trick from Ian, a little playful fencing
round the most alluring of subjects, yet it brought out the simplicity
of her character, while it also revealed its purity and intelligence.
Dancing had commenced when Mrs. Ragnor entered the room on the arm of
her son Boris. Boris instantly looked around for Sunna and she was
dancing with McLeod. All the evening afterwards Boris danced, but
never once with Sunna, and Adam Vedder watched the young man with
scorn. He was the most desirable party in the room for any girl and he
quite neglected the handsome Sunna Vedder. That was not his only
annoyance. McLeod was dancing far too often with Sunna, and even the
beautiful youth Ian Macrae had only asked her hand once; and Adam was
sure that Thora Ragnor had been the suggester of that act of
politeness. Girls far inferior to Sunna in every respect had received
more attention than his granddaughter. He was greatly offended, but he
appeared to turn his back on the whole affair and to be entirely
occupied in conversation with Conall Ragnor and Colonel Belton
concerning the war with Russia.
Every way the evening was to Sunna a great disappointment, in many
respects she felt it to be a great humiliation; and the latter feeling
troubled her more for her grandfather than for herself. She knew he
was mortified, for he did not speak to her as they walked through the
chill, damp midnight to their home. Mrs. Brodie had urged Adam and
Sunna to put the night past at her house, but Adam had been proof
against all her suggestions, and even against his own desires. So he
satisfied his temper by walking home and insisting on Sunna doing
likewise.
It was a silent, unhappy walk. Adam said not a word to Sunna and she
would not open the way for his anger to relieve itself. When they
reached home they found a good fire in the room full of books which
Adam called his own, and there they went. Then Sunna let her long
dress fall down, and put out her sandalled feet to the warmth of the
fire. Adam glanced into her face and saw that it was full of trouble.
"Go to thy bed, Sunna," he said. "Of this night thou must have had
enough."
"I have had too much, by far. If only thou loved me!"
"Who else do I love? There is none but thee."
"Then with some one thou ought to be angry."
"Is it with Boris Ragnor I should be angry?"
"Yes! It is with Boris Ragnor. Not once did he ask me to dance.
Watching him and me were all the girls. They saw how he slighted me,
and made little nods and laughs about it."
"It was thy own fault. When Boris came into the room, he looked for
thee. With McLeod thou wert dancing. With that Scot thou wert dancing!
The black look on his face, I saw it, thou should have seen it and
have given him a smile--Pshaw! Women know so much--and do so little.
By storm thou ought to have taken the whole affair for thy own. I am
disappointed in thee--yes, I am disappointed."
"Why, Grandfather?"
"An emergency thou had to face, and thou shirked it. When Boris
entered the room, straight up to him thou should have gone; with an
outstretched hand and a glad smile thou should have said: 'I am
waiting for thee, Boris!' Then thou had put all straight that was
crooked, and carried the evening in thy own hands."
"I will pay Boris for this insult. Yes, I will, and thou must help
me."
"To quarrel with Boris? To injure him in any way? No! that I will not
do. It would be to quarrel also with my old friend Conall. Not thee!
Not man or woman living, could make me do that! Sit down and I will
tell thee a better way."
"No, I will not sit down till thou say 'yes' to what I ask"; for some
womanly instinct told her that while Adam was cowering over the hearth
blaze and she stood in all her beauty and splendour above him, she
controlled the situation. "Thou must help me!"
"To what or whom?"
"I want to marry Boris."
"Dost thou love him?"
"Better than might be. When mine he is all mine, then I will love
him."
"That is little to trust to."
"Thou art wrong. It is of reasons one of the best and surest. Not
three months ago, a little dog followed thee home, an ugly,
half-starved little mongrel, not worth a shilling; but it was
determined to have thee for its master, and thou called it thy dog,
and now it is petted and pampered and lies at thy feet, and barks at
every other dog, and thou says it is the best dog on the Island. It is
the same way with husbands. Thou hast seen how Mary Minorie goes on
about her bald, scrimpy husband; yet she burst out crying when he put
the ring on her finger. Now she tells all the girls that marriage is
'Paradise Regained.' When Boris is my husband it will be well with me,
and not bad for him. He will be mine, and we love what is our own."
"Why wilt thou marry any man? Thou wilt be rich."
"One must do as the rest of the world does--and the world has the
fashion of marrying."
"Money rules love."
"No!"
"Yes! Bolon Flett had only scorn for his poor little wife until her
uncle left her two thousand pounds. Since then, no word is long enough
or good enough for her excellencies. Money opens the eyes as well as
the heart. What then, if I make Boris rich?"
"Boris is too proud to take money from thee and I will not be sold to
any man!"
"Wilt thou wait until my meaning is given thee--flying off in a temper
like a foolish woman!"
"I am sorry--speak thy meaning."
"Sit down. Thou art not begging anything."
"Not from thee. I have thy love."
"And thine is mine. This is my plan. Above all things Boris loves a
stirring, money-making business. I am going to ask him to take me as
his partner. Tired am I of living on my past. How many boats has
Boris?"
"Thou knowest he has but one, but she is large and swift, and does as
much business as McLeod's three little sloops."
"Schooners."
"Schooners, then--little ones!"
"Well then, there is a new kind of boat which thou hast never seen.
She is driven by steam, not wind, she goes swiftly, all winds are fair
to her, and she cares little for storms."
"I saw a ship like that when I was in Edinburgh. She lay in Leith
harbour, and the whole school went to Leith to see her come in."
"If Boris will be my partner, I will lay my luck to his, and I will
buy a steam ship, a large coaster--dost thou see?"
Then with a laugh she cried: "I see, I see! Then thou can easily beat
the sloops or schooners, that have nothing but sails. Good is that,
very good!"
"Just so. We can make two trips for their one. No one can trade
against us."
"McLeod may buy steam ships."
"I have learned all about him. His fortune is in real estate, mostly
in Edinburgh. It takes a lifetime to sell property in Edinburgh. We
shall have got all there is to get before McLeod could compete with
Vedder and Ragnor."
"That scheme would please Boris, I know."
"A boat could be built on the Clyde in about four months, I think.
Shall I speak to Boris?"
"Yes, Boris will not fly in the face of good fortune; but mind
this--it is easier to begin that reel than it will be to end it. One
thing I do not like--thou wert angry with Boris, now thou wilt take
him for a partner."
"At any time I can put my anger under my purse--but my anger was
mostly against thee. Now shall I do as I am minded?"
"That way is more likely than not! I think this affair will grow with
thee--but thou may change thy mind----"
"I do not call my words back. Go now to thy bed and forget everything.
This is the time when sleep will be better than either words or deeds.
Of my intent speak to _no one_. In thy thoughts let it be still until
its hour arrives."
"In the morning, very early, I am going to see Thora. When the
enlisting ship sails northward, there will be a crowd to see her off.
Boris and Thora and Macrae will be among it. I also intend to be
there. Dost thou know at what hour she will leave?"
"At ten o'clock the tide is full."
"Then at ten, she will sail."
"Likely enough, is that. Our talk is now ended. Let it be, as if it
had not been."
"I have forgotten it."
Vedder laughed, and added: "Go then to thy bed, I am tired."
"Not tired of Sunna?"
"Well then, yes, of thee I have had enough at present."
She went away as he spoke, and then he was worried. "Now I am
unhappy!" he ejaculated. "What provokers to the wrong way are women!
Her mother was like her--my beloved Adriana!" And his old eyes filled
with sorrowful tears as he recalled the daughter he had lost in the
first days of her motherhood. Very soon Sunna and Adriana became one
and he was fast asleep in his chair.
In the morning Sunna kept her intention. She poured out her
grandfather's coffee, and talked of everything but the thing in her
heart and purpose. After breakfast she said: "I shall put the day past
with Thora Ragnor. Thy dinner will be served for thee by Elga."
"Talking thou wilt be----"
"Of nothing that ought to be kept quiet. Do not come for me if I am
late; I intend that Boris shall bring me home."
Sunna dressed herself in a pretty lilac lawn frock, trimmed with the
then new and fashionable Scotch open work, and fresh lilac ribbons.
Her hair was arranged as Boris liked it best, and it was shielded by
one of those fine, large Tuscan hats that have never, even yet, gone
out of fashion.
"Why, Sunna!" cried Thora, as she hastened to meet her friend, "how
glad am I to see thee!"
"Thou wert in my heart this morning, and I said to it 'Be content, in
an hour I will take thee to thy desire.'" And they clasped hands, and
walked thus into the house. "Art thou not tired after the dance?"
"No," replied Thora, "I was very happy. Do happy people get tired?"
"Yes--one can only bear so much happiness, then it is weariness--sometimes
crossness. Too much of any good thing is a bad thing."
"How wise thou art, Sunna."
"I live with wisdom."
"With Adam Vedder?"
"Yes, and thou hast been living with Love, with Mr. Macrae. Very
handsome and good-natured he is. I am sure that thou art in love with
him! Is that not the case?"
"Very much in love with me he is, Sunna. It is a great happiness. I do
not weary of it, no, indeed! To believe in love, to feel it all around
you! It is wonderful! You know, Sunna--surely you know?"
"Yes, I, too, have been in love."
"With Boris--I know. And also Boris is in love with thee."
"That is wrong. No longer does Boris love me."
"But that is impossible. Love for one hour is love forever. He did
love thee, then he could not forget. Never could he forget."
"He did not notice me last night. Thou must have seen?"
"I did not notice--but I heard some talk about it. The first time thou
art alone with him, he will tell thee his trouble. It is only a little
cloud--it will pass."
"I suppose the enlisting ship sails northaway first?"
"Yes, to Lerwick, though they may stop at Fair Island on the way.
Boris says they could get many men there--and Boris knows."
"Art thou going to the pier to see them leave? I suppose every one
goes. Shall we go together?"
"Why, Sunna! They left this morning about four o'clock. Father went
down to the pier with Boris. Boris sailed with them."
"Thora! Thora! I thought Boris was to remain here until the naval
party returned from Shetland?"
"The lieutenant in command thought Boris could help the enlisting, for
in Lerwick Boris has many friends. Thou knows my sisters Anna and
Nenie live in Lerwick. Boris was fain to go and see them."
"But they will return here when their business is finished in
Lerwick?"
"They spoke of doing so, but mother is not believing they will return.
They took with them all the men enlisted here and the men are wanted
very much. Boris did not bid us a short 'good-bye.' Mother was crying,
and when he kissed me his tears wet my cheeks."
Sunna did not answer. For a few minutes she felt as if her heart had
suddenly died. At last she blundered out:
"I suppose the officer was afraid that--Boris might slip off while he
was away."
"Well, then, thou supposes what is wrong. When a fight is the
question, Boris needs no one either to watch him or to egg him on."
"Is that youngster, Macrae, going to join? Or has he already taken the
Queen's shilling? I think I heard such a report."
"No one could have told that story. Macrae is bound by a contract to
McLeod for this year and indeed, just yet, he does not wish to go."
"He does not wish to leave thee."
"That is not out of likelihood."
"Many are saying that England is in great stress, and my grandfather
thinks that so she is."
"My father says 'not so.' If indeed it were so, my father would have
gone with Boris. Mother is cross about it."
"About what then is she cross?" asked Sunna.
"People are saying that England is in stress. Mother says such words
are nothing but men's 'fear talk.' England's sons are many, and if few
they were, she has millions of daughters who would gladly fight for
her!" said Thora.
"Well, then, for heroics there is no present need! I surely thought
Boris loved his business and would not leave his money-making."
"Could thou tell me what incalculable sum of money a man would take
for his honour and patriotism?" asked Thora.
"What has honour to do with it?"
"Everything; a man without honour is not a man--he is just 'a body';
he has no soul. Robert Burns told Andrew Horner how such men were
made!" replied Thora.
"How was that? Tell me! A Burns' anecdote will put grandfather in his
finest temper, and I want him in that condition for I have a great
favour to ask from him."
"The tale tells that when Burns was beginning to write, he had a rival
in a man called Andrew Horner. One day they met at the same club
dinner, and they were challenged to each write a verse within five
minutes. The gentlemen guests took out their watches, the poets were
furnished with pencils and paper. When time was up Andrew Horner had
not written the first line but Burns handed to the chairman his verse
complete."
"Tell me. If you know it, tell me, Thora!"
"Yes, I know it. If you hear it once you do not forget it."
"Well then?"
"It runs thus:
"'Once on a time
The Deil gat stuff to mak' a swine
And put it in a corner;
But afterward he changed his plan
And made it summat like a man,
And ca'ed it Andrew Horner.'"
"That is good! It will delight grandfather."
"No doubt he already knows it."
"No, I should have heard it a thousand times, if he knew it."
"Well, then, I believe it has been suppressed. Many think it too
ill-natured for Burns to have written; but my father says it has the
true Burns ring and is Robert Burns' writing without doubt."
"It will give grandfather a nice long job of investigation. That is
one of his favourite amusements, and all Sunna has to do is to be sure
he is right and everybody else wrong. Now I will go home."
"Stay with me today."
"No. Macrae will be here soon."
"Uncertain is that."
"Every hair on thy head, Thora, every article of thy dress, from the
lace at thy throat to the sandals on thy feet, say to me that this is
a time when my absence will be better than my company."
"Well, then, do as thou art minded."
"It is best I do so. A happy morning to thee! What more is in my heart
shall lie quiet at this time."
Sunna went away with the air of a happy, careless girl, but she said
many angry words to herself as she hasted on the homeward road. "Most
of the tales tell how women are made to suffer by the men they
love--but no tale shall be made about Sunna Vedder! _No!_ _No!_ It is
Boris Ragnor I shall turn into laughter--he has mocked my very
heart--I will never forgive him--that is the foolish way all women
take--all but Sunna Vedder--she will neither forgive nor forget--she
will follow up this affair--yes!"
By such promises to herself she gradually regained her usual
reasonable poise, and with a smiling face sought her grandfather. She
found him in his own little room sitting at a table covered with
papers. He looked up as she entered and, in spite of his intention,
answered her smile and greeting with an equal plentitude of good will
and good temper.
"But I thought then, that thou would stay with thy friend all day, and
for that reason I took out work not to be chattered over."
"I will go away now. I came to thee because things have not gone as I
wanted them. Thy counsel at such ill times is the best that can
happen."
Then Vedder threw down his pencil and turned to her. "Who has given
thee wrong or despite or put thee out of the way thou wanted to
take?"
"It is Boris Ragnor. He has sailed north with the recruiting
company--without a word to me he has gone. He has thrown my love back
in my face. Should thy grandchild forgive him? I am both Vedder and
Fae. How can I forgive?"
Vedder took out his watch and looked at the time. "We have an hour
before dinner. Sit down and I will talk to thee. First thou shalt tell
me the very truth anent thy quarrel with Boris. What did thou do, or
say, that has so far grieved him? Now, then, all of it. Then I can
judge if it be Boris or Sunna, that is wrong in this matter."
"Listen then. Boris heard some men talking about me--that made his
temper rise--then he heard from these men that I was dancing at
McLeod's and he went there to see, and as it happened I was dancing
with McLeod when he entered the room, and he walked up to me in the
dance and said thou wanted me, and he made me come home with him and
scolded me all the time we were together. I asked him not to tell
thee, and he promised he would not--if I went there no more. I have
not danced with McLeod since, except at Mrs. Brodie's. Thou saw me
then."
"Thou should not have entered McLeod's house--what excuse hast thou
for that fault?"
"Many have talked of the fault, none but thou have asked me why or how
it came that I was so foolish. I will tell thee the very truth. I
went to spend the day with Nana Bork--with thy consent I went--and
towards afternoon there came an invitation from McLeod to Nana to join
an informal dance that night at eight o'clock. And Nana told me so
many pleasant things about these little dances I could not resist her
talk and I thought if I stayed with Nana all night thou would never
know. I have heard that I stole away out of thy house to go to
McLeod's. I did not! I went with Nana Bork whose guest I was."
"Why did thou not tell me this before?"
"I knew no one in Kirkwall would dare to say to thee this or that
about thy grandchild, and I hoped thou would never know. I am sorry
for my disobedience; it has always hurt me--if thou forgive it now, so
much happier I will be."
Then Adam drew her to his side and kissed her, and words would have
been of all things the most unnecessary. But he moved a chair close to
him, and she sat down in it and laid her hand upon his knee and he
clasped and covered it with his own.
"Very unkindly Boris has treated thee."
"He has mocked at my love before all Kirkwall. Well, then, it is Thora
Ragnor's complacency that affronts me most. If she would put her
boasting into words, I could answer her; but who can answer looks?"
"She is in the heaven of her first love. Thou should understand that
condition."
"It is beyond my understanding; nor would I try to understand such a
lover as Ian Macrae. I believe that he is a hypocrite--Thora is so
easily deceived----"
"And thou?"
"I am not deceived. I see Boris just as he is, rude and jealous and
hateful, but I think him a far finer man than Ian Macrae ever has
been, or ever will be."
"Yes! Thou art right. Now then, let this affair lie still in thy
heart. I think that he will come to see thee when the boats return
from Shetland--if not, then I shall have something to say in the
matter. I shall want my dinner very soon, and some other thing we will
talk about. Let it go until there is a word to say or a movement to
make."
"I will be ready for thee at twelve o'clock." With a feeling of
content in her heart, Sunna went away. Had she not the Burns story to
tell? Yet she felt quite capable of restraining the incident until she
got to a point where its relation would serve her purpose or her
desire.