After the Doctor's departure on the Saturday of that week, I wrote to
Delia Beaseley, telling her how far I had ventured upon the disclosure
of the fact that I was the daughter of her whom she had helped to save,
and that she was now free to tell him whatever he might ask in regard
to me, as far as she could answer; but that on no consideration was she
to speak of the papers in his possession; and if he spoke to her of
them, she was to say that he must settle that with me; that on no
account was she to learn anything of their contents. I wrote her this
as a precautionary measure only, for I was convinced the Doctor would
not mention those papers. They belonged to me, to me alone. It was a
matter of business.
She wrote in answer that she would do as I requested.
The spring was both long and late in coming. Day after day, week after
week the wind held steadily from the east or northeast. When, at last,
it turned right about face, and the sun, climbing high in the north,
warmed the breast of mother-earth, already swelling with its hidden
abundance, the waters were loosened and the great river and all its
tributaries were in ice-throes, travailling for deliverance.
Then it was that the plank sidewalks throughout the length and breadth
of Richelieu-en-Bas were securely chained to each householder's fence
or tree, to prevent them from sailing away on the rising flood. Then
it was that rowboats were in evidence in many a front yard. The creek
was impassable; the high-road bridge was threatened. Cale and Mr.
Ewart seemed to live in rubber boots, both by day and by night. Pierre
called frantically on all the protecting saints to withhold rain at the
time of the "debacle": the breaking up of the river. His son came in
twice a day, on an average, with soaked stockings and knickerbockers
wet through and through; was duly castigated--lightly, I say to his
father's credit--and as regularly comforted by Angelique with flagons
of spiced hot milk or very sweet ginger tea. It finally dawned upon us
that the youngster deliberately waded through slush to obtain the
creature comforts. After that, they were withheld.
Cale looked grim and Mr. Ewart anxious for one twenty-four hours. All
night they were out on horseback with lanterns and ropes. Then the
heavy rainclouds dispersed without the dreaded deluge; the sun shone
clear and warm; the small ice jams gave way, and the great floes went
charging down on the black waters towards the sea.
During this time of east wind, rain and snow, Jamie often chafed
inwardly, for the weather kept him housed; but he busied himself with
his work and soon became wholly absorbed, lost to what went on around
him.
And what was going on around him? Just this: two lives, a man's and a
woman's, long bound by the frost of circumstance, like the ice-bound
river in full view from the manor, were in the process of being warmed
through and through, thawed out; the ice obstructing each channel was
beginning to move, that the courses of their lives, under the power of
love's rays, might, at last, flow unhindered each into the other. So
it seemed to me, at least, during those weeks of waiting for the spring.
Did I know he loved me? Yes, I knew it; was sure of it; but no word
was spoken, for no word was needed then. We understood each other. We
were man and woman, not boy and girl. We recognized what each of us
was becoming to the other in the daily intimate household ways of
life--an enduring test; in the community of our human interests, in the
common wealth of our friends, of our books. His best friends were
mine; mine were his--all except Delia Beaseley; sometime I intended he
should know her.
I thought at first that would come about through the farm project; but
Mrs. Macleod, Jamie and I had to acknowledge, soon after the Doctor
returned, that the development of this plan was at a standstill.
Naturally this pleased both mother and son. For them it meant the
prospect of a return in the near future to their home in Scotland;
finally to England, and London. Jamie confided to me he should cast
anchor there for a time, his second book having been accepted by a good
publisher in that city.
He found opportunity in my presence to ask Doctor Rugvie, just before
he left us, about his further plans for the farm scheme, and was told
rather brusquely that certain complications had arisen, which must be
cleared up before he could proceed to develop them. Not once did he
drive over to the farm on his last visit. As for Mr. Ewart, he never
mentioned the subject. Jamie was wise enough to refrain from asking
questions of him.
The Doctor's announcement kept Jamie guessing for weeks, his curiosity
being unsatisfied; but as for me--I laughed in my sleeve, for I knew
how that "third of December" birthday on my innocent part, had
disarranged the good Doctor's philanthropic scheme, for the present at
least. I was curious to know how he would proceed to "clear away"
those complications.
The fear of leaving Lamoral for good was diminishing; I knew that what
held me there, held Mr. Ewart also. I rested content in this knowledge.