_ CHAPTER THIRTY SIX.
The only event of importance that occurred before Mrs Snow went away, was the return of Nelly. She came in upon them one morning, as they sat together in the breakfast-room, with more shamefacedness than could be easily accounted for at the first moment. And then she told them she was married. Her sudden departure had been the means of bringing Mr Stirling to a knowledge of his own mind on the matter of wedlock, and he had followed her to her sister's, and "married her out of hand." Of course, she was properly congratulated by them all, but Rose was inclined to be indignant.
"You promised that I was to be bridesmaid, and I think it is quite too bad that you should disappoint me," said she.
"Yes, I know I promised, but it was with a long prospect of waiting. I thought your own turn might come first, Miss Rose, He didna seem in a hurry about it. But his leisure was over when I was fairly away out of reach. So he came after me to my sister's, and nothing would do, but back I must go with him. He couldna see what difference a month or two could make in a thing that was to be for a lifetime; and my sister and the rest up there--they sided with him. And there was reason in it, I couldna deny; so we just went down to the manse one morning, and had it over, and me with this very gown on, not my best by two or three. He made small count of any preparations; so you see, Miss Rose, I couldna well help myself; and I hope it will all be for the best."
They all hoped that, and, indeed, it was not to be doubted. But, though congratulating Mrs Stirling heartily, Graeme was greatly disappointed for themselves. She had been looking forward to the time when, Mrs Tilman's temporary service over, they should have Nelly back in her old place again; but the best must be made of it now, and Nelly's pleasure must not be marred by a suspicion of her discontent. So she entered, with almost as much eagerness as Rose, into a discussion of the plans of the newly married pair.
"And is the market garden secured?" asked she. "Or is that to come later?"
"It will not be for a while yet. He is to stay where he is for the present. You will have heard that Mr Ruthven and his family are going home for a while, and we are to stay in the house. I am to have the charge. It will be something coming in through my own hands, which will be agreeable to me," added the prudent and independent Nelly.
The meeting of Mrs Snow and Mrs Stirling was a great pleasure to them both. They had much to say to one another before the time of Mrs Snow's departure came, and she heard many things about the young people, their way of life, their love to each other, and their forbearance with Fanny and her friends, which she would never have heard from them. She came to have a great respect for Mrs Stirling's sense and judgment, as well as for her devotion to the interests of the young people. One of the few expeditions undertaken by her was to choose a wedding present for the bride, and Rose had the satisfaction of helping her to decide upon a set of spoons, useful and beautiful at the same time; and "good property to have," as Mr Snow justly remarked, whether they used them or not.
The day of departure came at last. Will, Graeme, and Rose went with them over the river, and Fanny would have liked to go, too, but she had an engagement with Mrs Grove, and was obliged to stay at home. Arthur was to be at the boat to see them on, if it could be managed, but that was doubtful, so he bade them good-bye in the morning before he went away. There was a crowd, as usual, on the boat, and Graeme made haste to get a seat with Mrs Snow, in a quiet corner out of the way.
"Look, Graeme," said Rose. "There is Mr Proudfute, and there are the Roxburys, and ever so many more people. And there is Mr Ruthven. I wonder if they are going away to-day."
"I don't know. Don't let us get into the crowd," said Graeme, rather hurriedly. "We shall lose the good of the last minutes. Stay here a moment, Will, and see whether Arthur comes. I will find a seat for Mrs Snow. Let us get out of the crowd."
It was not easy to do, however, and they were obliged to pass quite close by the party towards which Rose had been looking, and which Graeme had intended to avoid.
"Who is that pretty creature with the child on her lap?" asked Mrs Snow, with much interest. "You bowed to her, I think."
"Yes. That is Mrs Ruthven. I suppose they are going away to-day. I should like to say good-bye to her, but there are so many people with her, and I am not sure that she knew me, though she bowed. Ah! she has seen Rosie. They are coming over here."
She rose and went to meet them as they came near.
"You have never seen my baby," said Mrs Ruthven, eagerly. "And I want to see Mrs Snow."
Graeme took the little creature in her arms.
"No, we were unfortunate in finding you out when we called, more than once--and now you are going away."
"Yes, we are going away for a little while. I am so glad we have met to-day. I only heard the other day that Mrs Snow had come, and I have not been quite strong, and they would not let me move about, I am so very glad to see you," added she, as she took Janet's hand. "I have heard your name so often, that I seem to know you well."
Mrs Snow looked with great interest on the lovely, delicate face, that smiled so sweetly up into hers.
"I have heard about you, too," said she, gravely. "And I am very glad that we chanced to meet to-day. And you are going home to Scotland?"
"Yes, for a little while. I have not been quite well, and the doctor advises the voyage, but we shall be home again before winter, I hope, or at the latest, in the spring."
There was not time for many words. Arthur came at the last minute, and with him Charlie Millar. He held out his arms for the baby, but she would not look at him, and clung to Graeme, who clasped her softly.
"She has discrimination, you see," said Charlie. "She knows who is best and wisest."
"She is very like what Rosie was at her age," said Mrs Snow. "Don't you mind, Miss Graeme?"
"Do you hear that, baby!" said Charlie. "Take heart. The wee white Lily may be a blooming rose, yet--who knows?"
"You have changed," said Mrs Snow, as Mr Ruthven came up to her with Will.
"Yes, I have changed; and not for the better, I fear," said he, gravely.
"I do not say that--though the world and it's ways do not often change a man for the better. Keep it out of your heart."
There was only time for a word or two, and Graeme would not lose the last minutes with their friend. So she drew her away, and turned her face from them all.
"Oh, Janet! Must you go? Oh! if we only could go with you! But that is not what I meant to say. I am so glad you have been here. If you only knew how much good you have done me!"
"Have I? Well, I am glad if I have. And my dear, you are soon to follow us, you ken; and it will do you good to get back for a little while to the old place, and the old ways. God has been very good to you all."
"Yes, and Janet, you are not to think me altogether unthankful. Forget all the discontented foolish things I have said. God
has been very good to us all."
"Yes, love, and you must take heart, and trust Him. And you must watch over your sister, your sisters, I should say. And Rose, dear, you are never to go against your sister's judgment in anything. And my bairns, dinna let the pleasant life you are living make you forget another life. God be with you."
Mr Snow and Will made a screen between them and the crowd, and Janet kissed and blessed them with a full heart. There were only a few confused moments after that, and then the girls stood on the platform, smiling and waving their hands to their friends, as the train moved off. And then Graeme caught a glimpse of the lovely pale face of Lilias Ruthven, as she smiled, and bowed, and held up her baby in her arms; and she felt as if that farewell was more for her, than any of the many friends who were watching them as they went away. And then they turned to go home. There was a crowd in the boat still, in the midst of which the rest sat and amused themselves, during the few minutes sail to the other side. But Graeme stood looking away from them all, and from the city and crowded wharf to which they were drawing near. Her eyes were turned to the far horizon toward which the great river flowed, and she was saying to herself,--
"I
will take heart and trust Him, as Janet said. He
has been good to us all I will not be afraid even of the days that look so dull and profitless to me. God will accept the little I can do, and I
will be content."
Will and Charlie Millar left them, after they had passed through a street or two.
"We might just as well have gone to Merleville with them, for all the difference in the time," said Rose.
"But then our preparations would have interfered with our enjoyment of Janet's visit, and with her enjoyment, too. It was a much better way for us to wait."
"Yes. And for some things it will be better to be there after the wedding, rather than before. But I don't at all like going back to an empty house. I don't like people going away."
"But people must go away, dear, if they come; and a quiet time will be good for us both, before we go away," said Graeme.
But the quiet was not for that day. On that day, two unexpected events occurred. That is, one of them was unexpected to Graeme, and the other was unexpected to all the rest. Mr Green proposed that Miss Elliott should accompany him on his contemplated European tour; and Mrs Tilman's time of service came to a sudden end.
As Graeme and Rose turned the corner of the street on their way home, they saw the Grove carriage standing at their door.
"
That does not look much like quiet," said Rose. "However, it is not quite such a bugbear as it used to be; don't you remember, Graeme?"
Rose's fears were justified. They found Fanny in a state of utter consternation, and even Mrs Grove not quite able to conceal how much she was put about. Mrs Tilman had been taken suddenly ill again, and even the undiscerning Fanny could not fail to understand the nature of her illness, when she found her unable to speak, with a black bottle lying on the bed beside her. Mrs Grove was inclined to make light of the matter, saying that the best of people might be overtaken in a fault, on occasion; but Graeme put her very charitable suggestions to silence, by telling the secret of the housekeeper's former illnesses. This was not the first fault of the kind, by many.
There were a good many words spoken on this occasion, more than it would be wise to record. Mrs Grove professed indignation that the "mistress of the house" should have been kept in ignorance of the state of affairs, and resented the idea of Fanny's being treated as a child. But Fanny said nothing; and then her mother assured her, that in future she would leave her to the management of her own household affairs; and Graeme surprised them all, by saying, very decidedly, that in doing this, she would be quite safe and right.
Of course, after all this, Fanny could not think of going out to pass the afternoon, and Graeme had little quiet that day. There were strangers at dinner, and Arthur was busy with them for some time after; and when, being at liberty at last, he called to Graeme that he wanted to see her for a minute, it must be confessed that she answered with impatience.
"Oh! Arthur, I am very tired. Won't it keep till morning? Do let Mrs Tilman and domestic affairs wait."
"Mrs Tilman! What can you mean, Graeme? I suppose Mrs Grove has been favouring the household with some advice, has she?"
"Has not Fanny told you about it?" asked Graeme.
"No. I saw Fanny was in tribulation of some kind. I shall hear it all in good time. It is something that concerns only you that I wish to speak about. How would you like to visit Europe, Graeme?"
"In certain circumstances I might like it."
"Mr Green wished me to ask the question--or another--"
"Arthur, don't say it," said Graeme, sitting down and turning pale. "Tell me that you did not expect this."
"I cannot say that I was altogether taken by surprise. He meant to speak to you himself, but his courage failed him. He is very much in earnest, Graeme, and very much afraid."
"Arthur," said his sister, earnestly, "you do not think this is my fault? If I had known it should never have come to this."
"He must have an answer now."
"Yes, you will know what to say to him. I am sorry."
"But, Graeme, you should take time to think. In the eyes of the world this would be a good match for you."
Graeme rose impatiently.
"What has the world to do with it? Tell me, Arthur, that you do not think me to blame for this."
"I do not think you intended to give Mr Green encouragement. But I cannot understand why you should be so surprised. I am not."
"You have not been seeing with your own eyes, and the encouragement has not been from
me. It cannot be helped now. You will know what to say. And, Arthur, pray let this be quite between you and me."
"Then, there is nothing more to be said?"
"Nothing. Good-night."
Arthur was not surprised. He knew quite well that Mr Green was not good enough for Graeme. But, then, who was? Mr Green was very rich, and it would have been a splendid settlement for her, and she was not very young now. If she was ever to marry, it was surely time. And why should she not?
He had intended to say something like this to her, but somehow he had not found it easy to do. Well, she was old enough and wise enough to know her own mind, and to decide for herself; and, taken without the help of his position and his great wealth, Mr Green was certainly not a very interesting person; and probably Graeme had done well to refuse him. He pondered a long time on this question, and on others; but when he went up-stairs, Fanny was waiting for him, wide awake and eager.
"Well, what did Graeme say? Has she gone to bed?"
Arthur was rather taken aback. He was by no means sure that it would be a wise thing to discuss his sister's affairs with his wife. Fanny would never be able to keep his news to herself.
"You ought to be in bed," said he.
"Yes, I know I ought. But is she not a wretch?"
"Graeme, a wretch!"
"Nonsense, Arthur! I mean Mrs Tilman. You know very well."
"Mrs Tilman! What has she to do with it?"
"What! did not Graeme tell you?"
And then the whole story burst forth--all, and a good deal more than has been told, for Fanny and Rose had been discussing the matter in private with Sarah, and she had relieved her mind of all that had been kept quiet so long.
"The wretch!" said Arthur. "She might have burned us in our beds."
"Just what I said," exclaimed Fanny, triumphantly. "But then, Sarah was there to watch her, and Graeme knew about it and watched too. It was very good of her, I think."
"But why, in the name of common sense, did they think it necessary to wait and watch, as you call it? Why was she not sent about her business? Why was not I told?"
"Sarah told us, it was because Miss Elliott would not have Mrs Snow's visit spoiled; and
Rose says she wanted everything to go smoothly, so that she should think I was wise and discreet, and a good housekeeper. I am very much afraid I am not."
Arthur laughed, and kissed her.
"Live and learn," said he.
"Yes, and I shall too, I am determined. But, Arthur, was it not very nice of Graeme to say nothing, but make the best of it? Especially when mamma had got Nelly away and all."
"It was very nice of her," said Arthur.
"And mamma was very angry to-day, and Graeme said--no, it was mamma who said she would let me manage my own affairs after this, and Graeme said that would be much the best way."
"I quite agree," said her husband, laughing.
"But, Arthur, I am afraid if it had not been for Graeme, things would have gone terribly wrong all this time. I am afraid, dear, I
am rather foolish."
"I am sure Graeme does not say so," said Arthur.
"No. She does not say so. But I am afraid it is true all the same. But, Arthur, I do mean to try and learn. I think Rose is right when she says there is no one like Graeme."
Her husband agreed with her here, too, and he thought about these things much more than he said to his wife. It would be a different home to them all. Without his sister, he acknowledged, and he said to himself, that he ought to be the last to regret Graeme's decision with regard to Mr Green and his European tour.
In the meantime, Graeme, not caring to share her thoughts with her sister just then, had stolen down-stairs again, and sat looking, with troubled eyes, out into the night. That was at first, while her conversation with her brother remained in her mind. She was annoyed that Mr Green had been permitted to speak, but she could not blame herself for it. Now, as she was looking back, she said she might have seen it coming; and so she might, if she had been thinking at all of Mr Green and his hopes. She saw now, that from various causes, with which she had had nothing at all to do, they had met more frequently, and fallen into more familiar acquaintanceship than she had been aware of while the time was passing, and she could see where he might have taken encouragement where none was meant, and she was grieved that it had been so. But she could not blame herself, and she could not bring herself to pity him very much.
"He will not break his heart, if he has one; and there are others far better fitted to please him, and to enjoy what he has to bestow, than I could ever have done; and, so that Arthur says nothing about it, there is no harm done."
So she put the subject from her as something quite past and done with. And there was something else quite past and done with.
"I am afraid I have been very foolish and wrong," she said, letting her thoughts go farther back into the day. She said it over and over again, and it was true. She had been foolish, and perhaps a little wrong. Never once, since that miserable night, now more than two years ago, when he had brought Harry home, had Graeme touched the hand or met the eye of Allan Ruthven. She had frequently seen Lilias, and she had not consciously avoided him, but it had so happened that they had never met. In those old times she had come to the knowledge that, unasked, she had given him more than friendship, and she had shrunk, with such pain and shame, from the thought that she might still do so, that she had grown morbid over the fear. To-day she had seen him. She had clasped his hand, and met his look, and listened to his friendly words, and she knew it was well with her. They were friends whom time, and absence, and perhaps suffering, had tried, and they would be friends always.
She did not acknowledge, in words, either her fear or her relief; but she was glad with a sense of the old pleasure in the friendship of Allan and Lilias; and she was saying to herself that she had been foolish and wrong to let it slip out of her life so utterly as she had done. She told herself that true friendship, like theirs, was too sweet and rare a blessing to be suffered to die out, and that when they came home again the old glad time would come back.
"I am glad that I have seen them again, very glad. And I am glad in their happiness. I know that I am glad now."
It was very late, and she was tired after the long day, but she lingered still, thinking of many things, and of all that the past had brought, of all that the future might bring. Her thoughts were hopeful ones, and as she went slowly up the stairs to her room, she was repeating Janet's words, and making them her own.
"I will take heart and trust. If the work I have here is God-given, He will accept it, and make me content in it, be it great or little, and I will take heart and trust." _