THE BIRTHDAY GIFT
"A glory gilds the sacred page,
Majestic like the sun
It gives a light to every age;
It gives, but borrows none."
Cowper.
ROWENA was moved into her boat the next day. And the sun shone down
upon her in real friendliness. Of course Shags accompanied her; and
for a couple of hours Colin rowed her over the loch; then, feeling she
must not take him longer from his work in the garden, she made him moor
the boat to the side of the small landing pier, and there, with her
hands dabbling in the cool water, Rowena lay and meditated, and read
for another couple of hours. She hardly knew which she liked best, the
motion or the stillness.
Granny came out at tea-time and suggested her moving in.
"I could stay here for ever and ever!" exclaimed Rowena. "What is it
about the loch that sends such peace and rest into one's soul?"
"It's the still waters," said Granny. She murmured to herself, "'He
leadeth me beside the still waters.'"
Rowena never took any notice when the Bible was quoted to her.
"Couldn't I lie here all night?" she said.
"'Deed, an' no, ye will not do that, mem. An' wha would say hoo lang
this stillness would be! A storm would come on, and then where would ye
be? A helpless leddy, solitary in the nicht!"
"Oh, Granny, what a description! Well, this helpless body must be moved
in to bed, I suppose. I can look forward to to-morrow."
But the next day was cold and wet. Rowena by this time was accustomed
to the Highland weather. She had a small wood fire made in her green
room, and with her books and rug-making spent a very pleasant day.
Between four and five the rain ceased and the sun shone out. And soon
after five, a motor full of people drove up to the door. It was Lady
Fraser, their nearest neighbour. She had brought her daughter and niece
over, and two young friends of theirs.
Rowena was not sure whether she liked them pouring in upon her, but she
knew it was real friendliness and good nature that brought them.
"We heard of your accident, and your brother told my husband before
he went to India that you would be staying here on the quiet for the
summer; so we promised him we would look after you, and prevent you
from being dull."
Lady Fraser paused at the end of this speech.
"We hoped you might have been able to come over to us, perhaps. We did
not know you were a real invalid."
"I am a prisoner for a year," said Rowena cheerfully, "and I am taking
fresh views of life. It's astonishing what a different environment does
for one. I shall be delighted to see you when you have time to come
over, but I cannot return your visits."
"There seem so many invalids now," said Lady Fraser with a sigh. "There
is Hugh Macdonald. We heard he had returned home, and wrote asking
him to dinner to-morrow, He replied that he was not well enough to go
anywhere; but my son George saw him fishing yesterday and he had a
child with him. I suppose it is his little girl. I should think she
ought to be educated. He has let her run wild since her mother's death.
Well, I am truly sorry for you, my dear. I should think it a deadly
existence here by yourself. But you say you don't mind."
The girls were full of commiseration. They had always regarded Rowena
before as being great fun, and very sporting. She felt that, though
they did not put it into words, her invalid life at present formed a
gulf between her and their pleasure-loving souls.
"It's so tiresome," said Katie Fraser; "so many of the men are grumpy
now like General Macdonald. George is very much the same himself—says
tennis and games are boring, and fatigue him. He likes to moon about
and go off alone with the keepers."
"My dear," said Lady Fraser, "you forget how ill he has been."
"And the horrors he has gone through," said Rowena slowly.
"Forgetfulness is not easy to them all."
"Oh, we will teach them to forget," laughed one of the girls. "They
must have a good time now, to make up for all they have lost."
"We're going to get up a pastoral play the end of August," said Lady
Fraser; "there will be more people down here then. I do hate the empty
time up here, don't you?"
"Well, I'm looking forward to spend the winter here," said Rowena.
They screamed at that statement.
"You can't! Nobody lives here in the winter. You had better be buried
at once."
"Why, you will have no neighbours at all! All the houses are shut up!"
"I shall have the minister and his mother; the doctor; Granny Mactavish
and her niece, and I can tick off five farms round our loch which will
not be shut up! You seem horror-stricken, but I mean to cultivate
my neighbours, whoever they may be, if they will be good enough to
cultivate me!"
Lady Fraser shook her head at her. "You are joking at our expense!
Your eyes betray you!" Her girls were mute, but they looked at Rowena
pityingly.
They did not stay very long. She watched them drive off, with a grim
smile, and said to Shags:
"We understand now, Shags, how unpleasant perfectly strong healthy
people are to the sick. I don't wonder that Hugh Macdonald has taken
a dislike to them. I suppose it is their pity which makes me grind my
teeth. I always think there's a bit of contempt mixed up with it. Now
I am perfectly certain I shan't be troubled with the Frasers much, and
how they used to live here last summer! What fun we did have! It is a
deadly existence, of course, but content is creeping over me, and I
shall not be disturbed."
She returned to her books, but a restless wave passed over her; then
she called Granny to the rescue, and a talk with her restored her
equanimity of mind.
The next day was windy; she was unable to be in her boat, but she
was able to lie out in her chair. And in the afternoon, who should
appear but Mysie and her father! They were riding. Mysie's face was
glowing with happiness and importance. Her father looked as grave and
imperturbable as ever. Mysie in her usual impulsive fashion flung
herself upon Rowena.
"Oh, I'm so glad to see you again! And such quantities have happened!
Dad doesn't think I'm bad for my age! He really doesn't. I caught a
bigger fish than him yesterday morning. We went out in all the rain
and did it! And do tell me, were you lying in your boat the day before
yesterday? I looked through Dad's glasses and thought I saw you. And
may I come by your side in my boat and then I'll tie you up to me and
tow you? It will be fun!"
Rowena let her chat on for a few moments undisturbed, then she said:
"Look here, Granny is longing to see you and hear about your doings.
Will you go into the kitchen, and ask her to make some of her nice drop
scones for tea?"
"Oh, she'll let me help her, I know she will."
Off Mysie darted. Her father looked relieved.
"How are things going?" Rowena asked.
"Rather fast," he said with a flicker of a smile. "We have had one
combat of wills already, but I made up my mind beforehand that I would
be boss. And she has been more subdued since."
"May I hear about it?"
"It was a question of friction between her and my housekeeper, Mrs.
Dalziel. The child marched into her kitchen and helped herself
liberally to some of the contents of the store cupboard. Mrs. Dalziel
remonstrated, and was told to mind her own business, that Miss Mysie
was mistress, and meant to be, or words to that effect. I heard such a
shindy that I went out and found them going at each other hammer and
tongs, so I called upon the culprit to beg Mrs. Dalziel's pardon at
once. This she refused point-blank to do and tossed her head, saying,
'A Macdonald never owns himself in the wrong, Angus told me so.' I told
her Angus could go to blazes as far as I cared, but if I told her to do
a thing, do it she must, whether she liked it or not. This was a bitter
pill to swallow and she held out for two hours. I told her I would
allow her half an hour's more grace, and if it wasn't done by that
time, her box should be packed and she should be returned to Anne's
keeping. She went straight away to Mrs. Dalziel and peace was made.
Then she came to me."
"'Have I to beg your pardon too, Dad?'"
"'What for?'"
"'For not doing what you wanted at once.'"
"'No; I don't want words, only deeds,' I said. 'A soldier's daughter
must learn prompt obedience from all her superiors.' Then she wanted to
know who her superiors were, and she got me into a fog, for it seems
Angus and Mrs. Dalziel don't hit it off, and she wanted to know if she
was to obey both of them when they 'said the opposite'!"
"'You'll take your orders from me,' I said, giving it up. And I think
she's learnt her first lesson."
"How I should like to have seen you together," Rowena said with her
happy laugh.
"Now we'll dismiss the child," he said somewhat peremptorily. "Did you
enjoy your boat the other day?"
"So much. And I enjoyed this all the better when I came back to it.
Change is good for most folk, I suppose. I had a visit from the Frasers
yesterday. They were horrified to think I should be meditating spending
the winter here."
"They would be. But I wonder if you will do it."
"Yes, I will," Rowena said, a shadow seeming to fall across her bright
eyes. "What a lot of thinking I shall do! I have done a good bit
already."
He looked up quickly at her.
"Tell me some of your deductions."
"Oh, they are not very original. The mystery of life, and of sadness
and gladness. I have begun to have a glimmer of light. There may be
some good in our awful experience of the past four or five years.
Somehow or other a character without any gravity in its composition has
lost its attractiveness to me. The Fraser girls jarred upon me. They
do resent and despise those who will not dance to their pleasure. Does
it mean that this forced seclusion of mine is making me jump into the
solid impassive state of old age?"
He did not answer. Then she asked him somewhat wistfully:
"Have you made any useful deductions during your convalescence?"
He answered her by asking an apparently irrelevant question.
"Did you ever meet Cuff Mackenzie? He was in the Scots Guards, and my
regiment lay with his for some considerable time at the Front. Forgive
a personal remark, but your eyes remind me of his, except perhaps that
there was a graver light in his. A serenity that used to baffle me.
He was shot, poor chap, close by my side. I helped carry him into his
trench, and he only lived an hour. But he bequeathed me a legacy, and
said with his dying breath that it was a key to the present history
of the world. He asked me to study it. So I have been doing it. His
copious notes on the margins have given me the clue to doing it. And I
am intensely interested."
"It's a book? What's the name? Who's the author?"
"Oh, we all possess a copy of it. It's the Bible."
"The Bible!"
Rowena looked amused.
"Do you know, I don't possess a Bible! Granny was quite shocked. She
has placed a fat black one on my chest of drawers. I used one at
school, but somehow I lost it, and never replaced it. It has never come
into my calculations. Of course one hears it in church."
"Mackenzie was very keen on prophecy. He got half the fellows in the
Mess hanging on his words one night. He told them that Allenby's
victory in the East was a triumphant fact for all Bible students, and
proved it. I was there, and since I've owned his well-worn copy, I've
been discovering a good deal."
"I thought the Bible was quite out of date in these days," said Rowena.
"Even the preachers in London were always putting their knife into it,
and trying to prove that most of it was fable."
"Yes, I suppose it's the way of the world. Well, I recommend it to you
for study this next winter. You'll find yourself stepping into another
world altogether before you've done with it."
"Is that your experience?"
General Macdonald gazed rather dreamily over the loch in front of him,
then he turned, and Rowena saw a shining, steadfast light in his dark
eyes.
"Yes, I've stepped into another environment," he said; "and it's a very
good sort of one, I can tell you."
Rowena was silent.
Then Mysie made her appearance. She was munching a cake, but approached
Rowena in a mysterious manner.
"I know something," she said.
"So do I," said Rowena, "many things."
"Ah, but this is an event."
Then in rather a loud whisper she asserted:
"I know when your birthday is. The day after to-morrow. Granny is going
to make a special cake for it—she's told me so."
Rowena laughed.
"Granny still treats me as if I were six years old. Will you come to
tea with me and taste it, Flora?"
The child clapped her hands, then turned to her father with
old-fashioned politeness.
"Could you do without me on Friday do you think, Dad?"
"I fancy I might," said her father gravely.
They did not stay longer. Rowena lay still after they had gone, and
mused upon what General Macdonald had told her.
"I knew there was something underneath his tired tones. I don't think
I have ever met a religious man before. He will be an interesting
study, won't he, Shags? But he will be shocked at my sceptical outlook.
I rather wish I could believe in the other fuller life after death.
But this world is the main one to me. He has stepped into another
environment already, he says. It sounded quite uncanny. And yet—and
yet—oh, Shags, I do feel a little more responsible and intelligent than
you. I don't quite think you and I will merit the same end! No wonder
he has grave views about Mysie's future! I fancy she will lead him a
dance before he has done with her. But he and his Bible together won't
make me give up his friendship. I enjoy listening to him. He has one
of the pleasantest voices I've heard for a long time; and he isn't too
sanctified yet! For he had one wicked outburst to his child! Oh, Shags,
you and I together must keep him as near our world as we can—I can't
afford to lose him. He and I are both crippled crocks, and the mad
world doesn't need us. I'll talk to him about the Koran next time and
see what he has to say to that!"
On Rowena's birthday Mysie appeared in the full glory of a new kilt—the
dress Tartan of the Macdonalds.
"Dad got it in Inverness," she said, showing herself off with pride.
"He took me there by train yesterday. We had such a day! But I'm going
to wish you a happy birthday, and give you a beautiful present. I
bought it for you myself yesterday, all by myself."
She put into Rowena's hands a parcel. Then danced up and down in
excitement whilst it was being opened.
"I knewed you were fond of books," Mysie's grammar was not always
correct. "So I went into a book shop and asked the man what was the
best book in the world for anybody who loved reading. He thought hard
and then he got me this—at least it was the same book, but I chose a
prettier cover. It's the best book in the world, so you're sure to like
it."
Rowena opened the parcel. A beautiful little dark red leather Bible lay
inside.
She looked up at Mysie with a mixture of curiosity and pleasure in her
eyes.
"My dear little Flora What can I say? It's beautiful! I suppose your
Dad had a hand in choosing it?"
"He didn't know nothing about it, till I'd brought it home. It was the
shopman who showed it to me."
"It's a wonderful gift and a remarkable coincidence," said Rowena
thoughtfully.
"I suppose it's what they read in church," said Mysie. "Dad said it was
a present fit for a queen. I couldn't have done better, he said. And
one day he's going to give me one. Have you got one of any kind? I hope
you haven't, but I know Granny Mactavish has. But it isn't red leather
like this, is it?"
Rowena put her arm round her and kissed her.
"Thank you a thousand times, Flora darling! I will keep this till I
die."
"And what did you call it, not a Bible, but an unmarkable concordance,
didn't you?"
"That's near enough," laughed Rowena.
Then they had tea, and Granny's birthday cake was much appreciated.
Mysie, of course, was full of the subject of birthdays.
"When is God's birthday?" she asked suddenly. "Does the Bible tell you?
I know Jesus' birthday is Christmas Day. I should like to know God's
birthday, if He lets people know. He must be very, very, very old."
Rowena was never shocked by Mysie's questions.
"God Almighty has no birthday, for He was never born. There never was
a time when He did not exist. But don't puzzle your head over that
mystery. Let us talk of other things."
"Dad's birthday is in November," said Mysie after a moment's pause.
"Mine is in November too. Isn't that funny? Mine is on the 10th. His is
on the 20th. Will you be here on our birthdays? Do you think you could
come to tea with us? You could come across the loch in your fiat boat.
That would be fun, wouldn't it? And we'd have a birthday cake as good
as Granny's."
"We must wait and see. I dare say I shall be here, but the fairies may
have wafted you off somewhere before November. Perhaps to school."
"Ah," said Mysie, shaking her head, "Dad talks about school, but the
fairies and I may manage something better. I'll go round one of their
hills; if you go nine times the wrong way, at sunset, I think, you'll
find a door leading you inside. And if I once go inside I shan't come
back for years and years!"
"That would be a pity. I shouldn't do anything that would make you into
a prisoner."
"Would I be a prisoner? Well then, I should find a way to escape. That
would be most exciting."
"I would rather try school."
"Would you? But I couldn't live away from the Highlands, I should die.
The great Flora didn't go to school. She had governesses. I know all
about her."
"Oh, yes, she did go to school. I have a life of her here," said Rowena.
"Then Angus told me wrong. Perhaps I will go to school then—only I must
come back for all the holidays."
Mysie sat and talked, then she had a romp with Shags, and departed
about seven o'clock.
"I have to be back by eight, Dad said so. He's a very particular man.
Angus says it's because he's a soldier."
Rowena lay thinking after Mysie had left her. The advent of the red
Bible had not altogether pleased her.
"I suppose, Shags, it means that I shall have to read it, but as to
studying it, I shouldn't have the faintest notion how to set about it.
I think I'll wait till I see the General again. He may be able to give
me a tip about it. Is it a case of thought telepathy between father and
child, I wonder?"