"Miss Brandt, mem!" announced old Hamish, in as dry and matter-of-fact
a voice as though it were only, "Here's the doctor, mem!" or "Dinner's
ready, mem!" and Margaret herself came in, rosy-faced and bright-eyed
from the kiss of the wind outside.
Lady Elspeth laughed enjoyably at the sight of her, and touched the
bell for tea.
"You are always like a breath from the heather to me, my dear, or a
glimpse of Schiehallion," said she, as they kissed, and Graeme stood
reverently looking on, as at a holy rite.
"Oh, surely I'm not as rugged and wrinkled as all that!" laughed
Margaret. "And I certainly am not bald. How do you do, Mr. Graeme?"
"There is no need to ask you that question, at any rate," he said,
with visible appreciation.
"I have loved Schiehallion all my life," said Lady Elspeth. "To me
there is no mountain in the world to compare with it. You see how
one's judgment is biassed by one's affections. And how is Mrs. Pixley
to-day, my dear?"
"She is much as usual, dear Lady Elspeth. She is never very lively,
you know. If anything, I think she is, perhaps, a trifle less lively
than usual just now."
"And Mr. Pixley is as busied in good works as ever, I suppose."
"As busy as ever--outside,"--at which gentle thrust the others smiled.
"It's all very well to laugh," remonstrated Margaret, "but truly, you
know, philanthropy, like charity, would be none the less commendable
to its relations if it sometimes remembered that it had a home. I
sometimes think that if ever there was a deserving case it is poor
Aunt Susan."
"And young Mr. Pixley? Doesn't he liven you up?" asked Lady Elspeth.
"He is very good company, I am told."
"Oh, Charles is excellent company. If we didn't see him now and again
the house would be like a tomb. But he's not there all the time, and
we have relapses. He has his own rooms elsewhere, you know. And I'm
really not surprised. It taxes even him to lighten the deadly dulness
of Melgrave Square."
"It must be a great comfort to Mrs. Pixley to have you with her, my
dear."
"I can't make up for all she lacks in other directions," said
Margaret, with a shake of the head. "I get quite angry with Uncle
Jeremiah sometimes. He is so--so absorbed in benefiting other people
that he--Well, you can understand how delightful it is to be able to
run in here and find the sun always shining."
"Thank you, my dear," said Lady Elspeth, with a twinkle in the brown
eyes. "Some people carry their own sunshine with them wherever they
go."
"And some people decidedly don't," said Margaret, who was evidently
suffering from some unusual exhibition of Pixleyism.
"It is generally possible to find a ray or so somewhere about, if you
know where to look for it," suggested Graeme.
"I was just accusing Jock of coming here as regularly as the milkman,"
twinkled Lady Elspeth.
"We have a community of tastes, you see," he said, looking across at
Margaret. "I also have a craving for sunshine, and I naturally come
where I know it is to be found," and Lady Elspeth's eyes twinkled
knowingly again.
"It's a good conceit of myself I'll be getting, if you two go on like
this."
"I'm quite sure you will never think half as well of yourself as your
friends do," said Graeme.
"Besides, you might even pass some of the credit on to us for the
excellent taste we display."
"Ay, ay! Well, it's good to be young," said Lady Elspeth.
"And it's very good to have delightful old sunbeams for friends."
"To say nothing of the young ones," laughed the old lady.
"They speak for themselves."
"We are becoming quite a mutual admiration society," said Margaret.
"Have you been dining with your fellow Friars lately, Mr. Graeme?"
"I'm sorry to say I've been neglecting my privileges in that respect.
I haven't been there for an age--not since that last Ladies' Dinner,
in fact. You see, I'm an infant there yet, and I scarcely know
anybody, and I've been very busy--"
"Chasing sunbeams," suggested Lady Elspeth.
"And other things."
"You are busy on another book?" asked Margaret.
"Just getting one under way. It takes a little time to get things into
proper shape, but once it is going, the work is very absorbing and
sheer delight. You were talking of going abroad again. Are you still
thinking of it?"
"I was hoping to get away. I wanted Aunt Susan to come with me to the
Riviera, but she flatly refuses to leave home at present, so I'm
afraid that's off."
"Well, now, that's curious. I've been feeling something of an
inclination that way myself," said Lady Elspeth. "I wonder if you'd
feel like coming with me, Margaret. I don't believe we would quarrel."
"Oh, I would be delighted, dear Lady Elspeth, and I'll promise not to
quarrel whatever you do to me."
"Who ever heard of sunbeams quarrelling?" said Graeme gaily, with Lady
Elspeth's earlier suggestion to himself dancing in his brain. "But
think of London left utterly sunless."
"London will never miss us," said Margaret. "It still has bridge, and
we are neither of us players."
And then, having an appointment from which he could not escape, and
knowing that they always enjoyed a little personal chat, he
reluctantly took his leave, and left them to the discussion of their
new plans.