Did George's eyes follow her too? His father could not but think so.
"For the sake of the girl who is dead," he said to himself with a pang.
Marion's eyes were only for her brother, but she had few words even for
him. They had little time for words. They bade Miss Jean and Marion
"good-bye" in the house. By and by, Mr Dawson saw Marion standing a
little apart from the group of women gathered on the pier, but when he
looked again she was no longer to be seen. He was a little
disappointed. He thought if they had walked up to his sister's house
together, he might have said a word to dispel the cloud of shyness or
vexation that had somehow come between them since the day she had gone
with the Petries to the Castle.
He would not make much of it, by speaking about it openly, nor could he
bring himself to ask his sister about it. Miss Jean was not easy to
approach on the subject of the Calderwoods. She had never said one word
to anger him at the time when she had thought him hard and unreasonable
with regard to them, and neither had she noticed by word or look the
interest with which he had come to regard her young visitor; and her
silence made it all the more difficult for him to speak. But when he
went in on his way home, as it drew towards gloaming, and found her
sitting alone in her darkening parlour, he asked her why she did not
have lights brought in, and where was her visitor.
"Marion went over to the Tangle Stanes with the skipper's wife and
Maggie, and I dare say she has gone hame with her. Her troubles are
begun, puir body--Annie Saugster's--I mean."
"What should ail her? She has just the troubles that ay maun fa' on
sailors' wives."
"Ay, just that," said Miss Jean.
"And she kenned them a' beforehand. And what gude could a lassie like
that do her? She has had small experience o' trouble anyway."
"She has a tender heart--and she shows her sympathy without many words.
And folk like her," said Miss Jean. There was a moment's silence, and
then Mr Dawson said hesitating,--
"What ails her this while? Is it only as her brother says, that she is
growing a woman, that she is so quiet? Or has any thing happened to vex
her? I have hardly got a word from her since she left Saughleas. Is it
James Petrie that's to blame?" added he with a laugh.
Miss Jean regarded him gravely for a minute.
"Yes, I think it was something he said. I ken it was, for she told me."
"And did she give him his answer?"
Miss Jean shook her head.
"It's no' what ye're thinkin'. That question hasna been asked yet,"
said she. "And I doubt he'll need to put it off, for a while. He didna
help his ain cause by what he said, though he meant it for that. He was
telling her about--about George and her sister Elsie."
Mr Dawson said nothing in the pause which followed.
"Of course she had heard something,--that they cared for one another,--
and that George's heart was nearly broken when Elsie died. But she had
never heard of your displeasure, nor of some other things. Though how
he thought it would help him to tell all this to her, I canna tell--
unless he may be afraid that--But she is to go hame with her brother, it
seems, and I hope that no ill may come o' my bringing her here."
"Nonsense, Jean! What ill should come of it? And why should you take
the blame of it? It was her mother's doing, sending her here. And if
it should end in her agreeing with James Petrie, ye may be sure she will
be well pleased."
"I'm no' sure. Though, puir body! she maybe was thinking o' that too."
"It is to be supposed that she kens her ain mind about it. James Petrie
will be a rich man some day. Doubtless she thinks of that."
"Less than ye would suppose. But she is not a strong woman, and if any
thing were to happen to her, the lassie would be left alone almost. She
would be safe here among douce, well-doing folk, like the Petries, and
in time she might be content enough."
"But how should he think to help his cause by--by telling that tale?
And what kens he about it?"
"He kens just what other folk ken, and guesses something, I dare say.
He thought to help his wishes by letting her ken, that when George
looked kindly at her it was for her sister's sake."
"George!" repeated Mr Dawson in dismay. Miss Jean had not been
betrayed into saying this, though that was her brother's first thought.
"Yes. She is like her sister--and he hasna forgotten _her_. But I
think it was chiefly your anger and vexation that he held up to her--as
against his own father's kindness."
"But George?" repeated Mr Dawson. "Yes. But it is not George I am
thinking about, but Marion. And her mother too. Do ye ken that though
he has ay gone to see Mrs Calderwood whenever he has been in London,
George had never seen her daughter after the time of May's marriage till
he saw her the ither night at Saughleas? That was her mother's will.
What with one thing and another,--his love for her sister, and his
friendship for her brother, and his being lost from hame so long--the
lassie was ay inclined to make a hero of George. And minding on Elsie,
and all she had suffered, the mother grew to have a fear that was
unreasonable, lest Marion should come to care for him beyond what should
be wise. So she kept her out of his sight, and she would never have let
her come north but that she knew George was going away. She may have
had her ain thoughts of young Mr Petrie--as I had myself, since he
showed that he had the sense to see her value."