COMPELLED TO THINK
"Unlike Philosophy, the Gospel has an ideal Life to offer."
Jowett.
IT was some time before Rowena saw either Mysie or her father again.
Mrs. Macintosh came over to see her one afternoon, and began speaking
about them.
"I am glad to think that Miss Falconer has been such a success," she
said; "and really people begin to think that she may one day change
her role from governess to mother. Forgive this gossip. But the laird
seems greatly taken with her, and for myself I would like to see him
married to some good woman. Every house wants a mistress, especially
where there are children. Robert and I went to lunch one day last week;
the laird is becoming a bit more sociable, neighbours tell us; but Miss
Falconer was there and did the honours of the table very prettily. I
wish you and she were a little nearer to one another. I suppose you do
not see much of her?"
"No, she is otherwise engaged," said Rowena.
"She and Robert found plenty to say. Robert loves an argument, and he
does not see eye to eye with her on woman suffrage. The laird seemed
quite surprised to hear her views, but I thought it was quite touching
the apologetic way in which she kept turning to him."
"'I know this will shock you,' she kept saying, 'but these are the
views I was taught at college.'"
"'Then Mysie shall never go to college,' said the laird, in that stern
tone of his. And Miss Falconer smiled up at him."
"'Ah well,' she said, 'as we grow older we see the error of our ways.
I am not so keen as I was on these questions. The war has altered many
things.' I was glad to hear her speak so. And the laird seemed to watch
every word and movement of hers. I should like to hear that they are
engaged."
"You are a regular matchmaker," laughed Rowena. "I do not think General
Macdonald a marrying man. He told me once that matrimony was always a
risk, and a little of it went a long way."
"A very unchivalrous speech to make to a lady," said Mrs. Macintosh in
a tone of disapproval.
Rowena laughed gaily.
"He is not a man who makes pretty speeches," she said. When her visitor
went, she subsided into grave thought. Shags tried to attract her
attention, and failed. At last she roused herself.
"My dear young woman," she apostrophized herself; "at your time of
life, you ought to expect anything and everything. They say any woman
can marry a man if she sets her heart and will upon it. And if it will
mean giving up some of her misguided but cherished principles it will
be a very good thing for the fair falcon! As long as her talons are
clipped and she is not allowed to hurt my little Mysie, I don't care.
Men must take care of themselves. But Hugh Macdonald is just the man to
blunder into another unsatisfactory marriage!"
She said these words aloud, but her eyes had lost their sparkle, and
when Granny came to help her into the house she said:
"You look tired out, mem. Are you feeling your back again?"
"I am feeling rotten," said Rowena with a short laugh; "but don't for
pity's sake take any notice of me. Life is a very crooked stick, and
it's quite impossible to bend it the way one wants to. So the only
thing is to smile at it, and adjust oneself to the crookedness."
A few days afterwards, Rowena went out in her punt. It was a still grey
day, rather sultry and oppressive, and she longed to feel the coolness
of the water round her Colin took her out a good way upon the loch, and
for a wonder a boat came up to him with Angus in it, and a stranger.
Rowena guessed at once it must be the man to whom her brother had let
the fishing and shooting. Her first instinct was to let them pass her
without a word or sign of recognition; but Angus prevented that.
"An' hoo are ye this day, mem?" he said, pulling in his oars and
beaming upon her with his fatherly smile. "'Tis Mr. Crawford I will be
takin' to Abertarlie."
Rowena acknowledged the introduction by a bow.
"You have taken my brother's shooting," she said in her clear pleasant
voice. "I hope you are enjoying it. You must excuse my getting up. I am
quite an invalid at present. I heard the guns going yesterday. Did you
have good sport?"
"Splendid!" was the quick enthusiastic reply. "I had thought of calling
upon you, Miss Arbuthnot, as I hear you have a wonderful book on the
deer forests about here, and I wondered if I might ask for the loan of
it. Did we not meet some years ago at Cowes?"
"Yes, at the regatta," said Rowena. "I thought I had seen you before.
You were with the Radcliffe-Murrays. Of course you may have the book;
I will send it over to you. Are you staying at 'The Antlers' in
Abertarlie?"
"Yes, they do one first-rate! I have two cousins with me and a nephew.
Don't trouble to send. I am often past your way, and I will call in for
it, if I may."
"I will look it out and have it ready for you."
"May I say how sorry I am for your accident? It was out hunting, was it
not? I heard about it."
"Yes, it's rotten luck, but thank goodness I'm only temporarily laid
up. I have to be a year on my back. I mustn't keep you. Good-bye."
"There be a storm on the way," said Angus a little anxiously; "you'd
best get back, mem."
"All right, Angus. We can't afford to run risks with this craft." She
laughed as she spoke. Angus plied his oars in one direction, and Colin
in another, but before they came to the shore the storm burst upon
them. Rowena watched the waves lash round her with serenity, but Colin
got agitated, and seemed to lose his nerve.
"Och, mem, whatever will happen?" he ejaculated.
"I feel like a trussed pig!" said Rowena. "But if you really can't
manage, I can, at a pinch, sit up and take an oar. I must! I don't want
to be drowned."
She had hardly said the words before a hurricane of wind swept down
upon them, and the next moment the punt was engulfed in the waves, and
Rowena and Colin were in the water. With wonderful presence of mind
Rowena threw out her arms and floated on her back. Colin, completely
losing his head, made for the punt instead of for Rowena.
But help was at hand! A boat shot out from the Arbuthnot's
landing-stage and pulled rapidly towards them. In a very few minutes
Rowena was rescued. She was hardly conscious as to how she got into the
boat, for the waves had washed over her more than once, and she was in
a very exhausted state. She only felt strong arms lift her, and a voice
she seemed to know said:
"Thank God I'm in time!"
The next thing that she knew was finding herself in her own bed, and
Granny bending over her.
"Eh, mem, the Lord be praised! Ye are safe an' soun'! An' noo it's just
this wee drappie o' whusky ye'll be takin'."
Rowena meekly obeyed, then looked up with her irresistible smile.
"Oh, Granny, I'm not dead yet! I shall live to continue to plague you,
but it was a near shave. Who came out to us?"
"Why, sure it was the laird! Him an' me saw ye caught, and never shall
I forget the sight of your boat in the ragin' wind and waves! The
laird, he set his teeth and wi'out a wor-r-rd tore at the boat an'
was after ye! An' when he put ye oot o' his ar-rms, he said, 'Mrs.
Mactavish, she must live—there are not mony like her.' He helped me
get ye to bed an' rubbed and chafed ye, an' noo he's awa' to get the
doctor—an is pretty well soaked to his skin. That Colin be a puir
creater! Niver will ye be gain' oot wi' him agen, mem—niver! He cam'
back wi' his heid fair mazed—an' all he cud cry was, 'Wae's me—the
young leddy be drownded and 'twill be I which have doon it!'"
Rowena smiled but could not speak.
Presently she made the effort.
"The laird must have his clothes dried. See to him, Granny!"
"Deid an' I will, if so be he gives me a chance!"
It was not very long before the doctor arrived, but Rowena hearing
that General Macdonald had returned with him, sent him out a message
of thanks and begged him to let Granny attend to him. Then she saw the
doctor.
"Don't examine my poor back to-night. I don't believe I am any the
worse. The salt water may have strengthened it. I did not strain it in
any way."
And it was marvellous that she was not seriously the worse for her
accident. She kept to her bed for three or four days, then was moved
out to her couch, but the doctor forbade any more loch expeditions.
"The weather is too treacherous, be content to lie by the side of it;
the open-air is good for you, but don't attempt the punt again."
"Oh," groaned Rowena, "instead of widening my borders, I have to narrow
them!"
She felt very low and depressed for a day, then recovered her spirits.
General Macdonald, coming to inquire for her, found her outside on the
terrace, looking rather white, but with her usual bright smile.
"Well," he said, "I thought it was all up with you the other day, and
now I hear you are none the worse for your spill."
"Not a bit worse," said Rowena, "but I have been thinking rather hard.
What a bit of luck you came this way! I don't believe Colin would have
ever towed me to shore. He's a good swimmer, but his one idea was to
get hold of the punt and then come for me. And I don't think I should
have lasted out long enough."
"I don't believe in luck," said the General gravely. "I had no
intention of coming over to see you that afternoon. I was reading in my
study and I came across a bit that I liked in one of my old books, and
suddenly thought I would like to share it with you. But when I got out
into the hall Mysie begged me to take her upon the moors. I very nearly
did; but a strong persistent sense of wanting to get to you made me
send her away disconsolate, and I came off post haste. I had only just
arrived when the squall came on, and we saw your punt capsize from the
terrace here. Don't you think I was sent to you?"
"By whom? By my guardian angel, I suppose, if I have one. If you had
not come and I had gone down, I wonder where I should be to-day?"
There was a silence, then Rowena looked straight at him with shining
eyes.
"Well, honestly, I didn't feel quite ready to leave this world. I
thought it out as I floated on the water, and I think I prayed the
first fervent prayer in my life. I wanted to be spared. I wanted it
desperately. I suppose the love of life is hard to kill, because I am
leading a very useless existence at present, and there's no particular
reason for me to be spared, when so many others are taken."
"Your prayer was answered."
"Yes, and I am digging into my Bible furiously; I have read it for an
hour at a time. I want to discover the secret that the early Christians
had, and which enabled them to go through fire and water unmoved. The
Epistles are interesting me. I told you what a heathen I was, didn't I?
What a high ideal we are supposed to have of our purpose in this world.
It staggers me; I don't like feeling small, but there's no doubt the
Bible does that."
"Infinitesimally small," said General Macdonald. "But you've read the
paradox: 'When I am weak then I am strong.'"
"I don't understand half I read."
She looked at him with a mixture of shame and amusement.
"I wish you would preach me a dear little sermon, General Macdonald. I
know you could do it quite as well as our young minister. I never get
to church."
"No; I could never preach," said General Macdonald seriously; "but I
think I can tell you the secret of the early Christians' faith and
endurance. They 'endured as seeing Him Who is invisible,' we are told.
Our Master's last words were: 'Lo, I am with you alway, even unto the
end of the world.'"
"I think," said Rowena very slowly with downcast eyes, "the result of
my Bible study is that I want to have Him with me."
General Macdonald looked at her with a sudden brightness in his eyes.
He murmured to himself, but just loud enough for her to hear: "'But
one thing is needful—she hath chosen that good part which shall not be
taken away from her.'"
There was silence again.
Suddenly Rowena brushed her hand lightly across her eyes, but not
before the General had seen some glittering drops on the ends of her
long lashes.
"And now we'll leave this uninteresting subject of myself," she said
abruptly. "Tell me about Mysie."
"What shall I tell you? She is making good progress with her lessons,
I hope. Do you remember your words about Miss Falconer? I am thankful
to find that you are mistaken in your estimate of her. She has a very
high ideal of woman's position in the world, and is trying to train
Mysie accordingly. I want her to grow up an honourable, pure, and
devout woman, and I believe Miss Falconer will be influential in making
her this. I gathered that you did not care about Miss Falconer, but
if you would have a serious and confidential talk with her about the
deep things of life, you would find her a real help to you, I am sure.
She is going away for a fortnight or three weeks to her relations, the
Grants. When she comes back I hope you will try to see something of
her."
Rowena looked at him now with a mocking light in her eyes. Her soft
serious mood was over.
"Miss Falconer and I are antipathetic," she said. "If she and I were on
a desert island, I would live on the farthest edge of the island away
from her. But I am glad you are pleased with her. Only if she spoils my
dear Mysie, I shall never forgive her, nor you for not discovering it."
"I wish you would explain yourself."
"I hardly ever see Mysie now," said Rowena irrelevantly. "Will you, as
it is holiday time, let her come over and spend a day with me?"
"She will be delighted. I will send her to-morrow, for I have to go
down to Glasgow on business, and it may keep me away a night."
"Then let her sleep here. Granny will look after her, and of course
you may trust me not to say a word of criticism on the subject of her
governess."
So it was settled. Just before he took his leave, as he was shaking
hands with her, he said:
"We could ill have spared you." Then he added with a whimsical smile:
"It's odd at my time of life to be blessed with two women friends like
yourself and Miss Falconer. Since my poor wife's death I have kept away
from women, but having a girl child to bring up does make me value the
advice and counsel of your sex."
"Please don't apologize for knowing me," said Rowena gaily. "I value
your friendship whether for the sake of the child or not."
And when he was gone she caught up Shags and laughed till she shook.
"You dear, ridiculous man! I hope we shan't turn you into an old woman
between us. You look quite careworn when you talk about your child! I
think I shall advise some shooting and golf for a change."
Mysie appeared the next day in high spirits at the thought of a day and
a night away from home.
"You haven't forgotten me?" Rowena asked, as the little arms went round
her neck and hugged her.
"I couldn't never forget you. You're my best friend, but Miss Falconer
simply won't let me come and see you. She throws excuses in the way,
and she told me I bored you, and that it wasn't fair to worry you so.
Do I bore you? Do I worry you? Now I know I don't. Your eyes tell me I
don't! I don't like Miss Falconer's eyes—they never laugh, only look
round the corner at you. But she's gone away, and I'm pretending that
she's not in the world at all, and never coming back."
"We won't mention her. And now, little Flora, how shall we map out the
day? I'm unfortunately forbidden to go on the loch again, isn't that a
trial?"
"Oh, it's ripping anyhow with you! I love to talk and play with Shags.
And there will be the meals. I love meals away from home, they're so
lovely. And oh! I do love and adore you when you call me Flora!"
Another hug followed, then in more sober tones Mysie said:
"Dad came back and told me how nearly drownded you were! I told him if
you went dead, I would never smile again. I couldn't! My heart would be
broken right in two. And when your eyes twinkle and smile at me as they
are doing now, it gives me a lump of joy in my chest. Do you know the
feeling?"
"I know you're a darling little bundle of emotion and Highland
sensitiveness!" said Rowena. "And as I'm very much alive, we won't talk
of that disaster of mine any more. Tell me all you've been doing since
we last met."
Mysie began at once.
"We won't talk of the lessons—or of Miss Falconer. I'm rather afraid of
her, you know; Angus says she's wanting in soul. What does that mean?
She says Angus is an ignorant fool. I'll tell you about the other day.
I got in a scrape—it was the day Miss Falconer left. I went riding
up the moor with Angus and then I got away from him—and then I saw
far-away two darling deer—and I tied my pony up and I crept up to them
like Angus does—only he calls it stalking. And I didn't know there were
other people creeping about, until I saw a man with a gun. And then I
knew he meant to shoot them, and my blood boiled up, and I clapped my
hands and screamed, and the deer scampered away, but the man came out
of the bushes with his gillie, and they both swore at me. They were
frightfully angry, and the man said if I didn't make tracks for home
he'd lay a stick across my back. And fancy, he called me a boy! I stood
still and just told him who I was. It made him rather surprised. I told
Dad about it, and he said it was a wicked thing of me to do, but I said
it was wicked to shoot the poor deer—I love them all. I had a little
tame deer once before its horns grew."
So Mysie chatted on, and Rowena lay and listened. Then she read her
some of her legends and folk-lore which she was collecting for her
book. Once started on that subject, Mysie's tongue went faster than
ever. The day was a complete success. But when Mysie was on her way to
bed, she said:
"I wish—I wish you were my governess! Don't you think you could be,
when you get up from your back and walk again? I am sure you know quite
as much as Miss Falconer does, and a good deal more. Don't be angry,
like Dad, if I tell you quite privately, that I hate and detest and
abhor her! I went down to the tom na hurisch and besought the fairies
to come and take her one night. There's a little rowan tree outside
her window, and I'm afraid that keeps her safe. Angus won't hear of it
being cut down, as he says it will bring us bad luck—I want bad luck to
be brought to Miss Falconer!"
"Oh, hush! Now I really am shocked, and must protest!" said Rowena.
"Never wish ill-luck to come to anyone, even to your worst foe. It
isn't generous or right. And this is holiday time: we are not going to
think about lessons or about Miss Falconer."
Mysie shook her curls a little defiantly.
"Dad doesn't know what I know, or else he wouldn't like her so much."
"Good night, little Flora; pleasant dreams!"
And Mysie said no more, but went obediently to bed.