Janet's Love and Service Part 35

And busy still with thoughts from which renewed trust had taken the sting, Graeme sat still in the moonlight, till the sound of approaching footsteps recalled her to the present.

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

The shining boots crashed the gravel, and the white dress gleamed through the darkness, some time after the young men were seated in Mr Elphinstone's handsome drawing-room. The master of the mansion sat alone when they entered, gazing into a small, bright coal fire, which, though it was not much past midsummer, burned in the grate. For Mr Elphinstone was an invalid, with little hope of being other than an invalid all his life, though he was by no means an old man yet.

If he had been expecting visitors, he had forgotten it, for they had come quite close to him before he looked up, and he quite started at the sound of Mr Millar's voice. He rose and received them courteously and kindly, however. Mr Elphinstone in his own drawing-room was a different person, or rather, he showed a different manner from Mr Elphinstone in his counting-room in intercourse with his clerks; and Harry, who had had none but business intercourse with him, was struck with the difference. It required an effort for him to realise that the bland, gentle voice was the same that he had so often heard in brief and prompt command.

Business was to be ignored to-night, however. Their talk was of quite other matters. There was an allusion to the new partnership, and to Mr Millar's half-brother, the new partner, who at the moment, as they all knew, was pa.s.sing along the garden walk with a little white hand on his coat-sleeve. This was not alluded to, however, though each thought his own thoughts about it, in the midst of their talk. That those of Mr Elphinstone were rather agreeable to himself, the lads could plainly see. He had no son, and that his partner and nephew should fall into a son's place was an idea that pleased him well. Indeed, it had cost him some self-denial to-night not to intimate as much to him after the pretty Lilias had withdrawn, and the smile that Harry was stealthily watching on his face, was called up by the remembrance of the admiration which his daughter had evidently called forth. Harry watched the smile, and in his heart called the new partner "lucky," and "cute," and looked at Charlie's discontented face with a comic astonishment that would have excited some grave astonishment to their host, if by any chance he had looked up to see. Though why Charlie should look discontented about it, Harry could not well see.

They talked about indifferent matters with a little effort till the white dress gleamed in the firelight, and a soft voice said--

"What, still in the dark, papa!"

The lights came in, and Harry was introduced to Miss Elphinstone. He had shared Rosie's interest in the lady of the pony-carriage, long ago, and had sometimes seen and spoken with her in the garden in those days, but he had not seen her since her return from Scotland, where her last three years had been spent. A very sweet-looking and graceful little lady she was, though a little silent and shy at first, perhaps in sympathy, Harry thought, with the tall, bearded gentleman who had come in with her.

It was evidently Harry's interest to be on good terms with the new partner, and common politeness might have suggested the propriety of some appearance of interest in him and his conversation. But he turned his back upon the group by the fire, and devoted himself to the entertainment of their young hostess who was by this time busy with her tea-cups in another part of the room. There was some talk about the weather and the voyage and sea-sickness, and in the first little pause that came, the young lady looked up and said,--

"You don't live in the house opposite now, I think."

It was the first voluntary remark she had made, and thankful for a new opening, Harry said,--

"No; my sisters were never quite contented there. We left it as soon as possible; and we are quite at the other end of the town now."

"And is your little sister as fond of flowers as ever?"

"Rose? Oh, yes! She has a garden of her own now, and aspires to rival the pansies and verbenas of Mr Stirling, even."

Miss Elphinstone smiled brightly.

"I remember the first time she came into the garden."

"Yes, that was a bright day in Rosie's life. She has the gowans you gave her still. The garden was a great resource to her in those days."

"Yes; so she said. I was very glad. I never gathered gowans among the hills at home, but I seemed to see that pretty shy face looking up at me."

"Yes," said Harry, meditatively, "Rose was a very pretty child."

Mr Millar had drawn near by this time. Indeed, the other gentlemen were listening too, and when Miss Elphinstone looked up it was to meet a very wondering look from the new partner.

"By the by, Mr Elliott," said her father, breaking rather suddenly into the conversation, "whom did your elder brother marry?"

"Marry!" repeated Charles.

"He is not married," said Harry.

"No? Well he is to be, I suppose. I saw him walking the other day with a young lady. Indeed, I have often seen them together, and I thought--"

"It was my sister, I presume," said Harry.

"Perhaps so. She was rather tall, with a pale, grave face--but pretty-- quite beautiful indeed."

"It was Graeme, I daresay. I don't know whether other people think her beautiful or not."

Harry did not say it, but he was thinking that his sister seemed beautiful to them all at home, and his dark eyes took the tender look of Graeme's own as he thought. It vanished quickly as a heavy hand was laid on his shoulder, and he turned to meet the look of the new partner.

"You don't mean that you are the Harry Elliott that sailed with me in the 'Steadfast,' ten years ago."

"Yes, I am Harry Elliott, and I crossed the sea in the 'Steadfast' ten years ago. I knew _you_ at the first glance, Mr Ruthven."

"I never should have known you in the least," said Mr Ruthven. "Why, you were quite a little fellow, and now you can nearly look down on me."

"I never thought of that," said Harry, looking foolish.

"And you thought the new partner fancied himself too big a man to know you," said Charlie. "And that's the reason you took umbrage at him, and told your sister he was--ahem, Harry?"

Miss Elphinstone's laugh recalled Charlie to a sense of propriety, and Harry looked more foolish than ever. But Mr Ruthven did not seem to notice what they were saying.

"I never should have known you. I see your father's look in you now-- and you have your elder sister's eyes. Why did you not write to me as you promised?"

"We did write--Norman and I both, and afterwards Graeme. We never heard a word from you."

"You forget, it was not decided where you were to settle when I left you. You promised to write and tell me. I wrote several times to your father's friend in C---, but I never heard from him."

"He died soon after we arrived," said Harry.

"And afterward I heard of a Reverend Mr Elliott in the western part of New York, and went a day's journey thinking I had found you all at last.

But I found this Mr Elliott was a very young man, an Englishman--a fine fellow, too. But I was greatly disappointed."

Harry's eyes grew to look more like Graeme's than ever, as they met Allan's downward gaze.

"I can't tell you how many Mr Elliotts I have written to, and then I heard of your father's death, Harry, and that your sisters had gone home again to Scotland. I gave up all hope then, till last winter, when I heard of a young Elliott, an engineer--Norman, too--and when I went in search of him, he was away from home; then I went another fifty miles to be disappointed again. They told me he had a sister in a school at C---, but Rose never could have grown into the fair, blue-eyed little lady I found there, and I knew it could not be either of the others, so I only said I was sorry not to see her brother, and went away."

Harry listened eagerly.

"I daresay it was our Norman, and the little girl you saw was his adopted sister, Hilda. If Norman had only known--" said Harry. And then he went on to tell of how Norman had saved the little girl from the burning boat, and how he had cared for her since. By and by they spoke of other things and had some music, but the new partner said little, and when it was time for the young men to go, he said he would walk down the street with them.

"So, Charlie, you have found the friends who were so kind to me long ago," said his brother, as they shut the gate.

"Yes," said Charlie, eagerly, "I don't know how I should have lived in this strange land without them. It has been a different place to me since Harry came to our office, and took me home with him."

"And I suppose I am quite forgotten."

"Oh, no, indeed!" said Harry, and Charlie added--

"Don't you mind, Harry, your sister Rose said to-night that I reminded Miss Elliott of some one she knew long ago. It was Allan, I daresay, she meant. My mother used to say I looked as Allan did when he went away."

They did not speak again till they came near the house. Then Charlie said,--