Janet's Love and Service Part 47

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.

The brilliant sunlight of a September morning was shining full into the little breakfast-room, where Graeme sat at the head of the table, awaiting the coming of the rest. The morning paper was near her, but she was not reading; her hands were clasped and rested on the table, and she was looking straight before her, seeing, probably, further than the pale green wall, on which the sunshine fell so pleasantly. She was grave and quiet, but not in the least sad. Indeed, more than once, as the voices of Rose and Arthur came sounding down-stairs, a smile of unmistakable cheerfulness overspread her face. Presently, Arthur entered, and Graeme made a movement among her cups and saucers.

"Your trip has done you good, Graeme," said Arthur, as he sat down opposite to her.

"Yes, indeed. There is nothing like the sea-breezes, to freshen one. I hardly know myself for the tired, exhausted creature you sent away in June."

Graeme, Rose, and Will, had pa.s.sed the summer at Cacouna. Nelly had gone with them as housekeeper, and Arthur had shut the house, and taken lodgings a little out of town for the summer.

"I am only afraid," added Graeme, "that all our pleasure has been at the expense of some discomfort to you."

"By no means, a change is agreeable. I have enjoyed the summer very much. I am glad to get home again, however."

"Yes, a change does one good. If I was only quite at ease about one thing, we might have gone to Merleville, instead of Cacouna, and that would have given Janet and a good many others pleasure."

"Oh! I don't know," said Arthur. "The good people there must have forgotten us by this time, I fancy. There are no sea-breezes there, and they were what you needed."

"Arthur! Janet forgotten us! Never, I am quite sure of that. But at the time it seemed impossible to go, to make the effort, I mean. I quite shrunk from the thought of Merleville. Indeed, if you had not been firm, I fear I should not have had the sea-breezes."

"Yes. You owe me thanks. You needed the change. What with Will's illness, and Harry's going away, and one thing and another; you were quite in need of a change."

"I was not well, certainly," said Graeme. "Will has gone to the post, I suppose?"

"Yes," said Rose, who entered at the moment. "I see him coming up the street."

"As for Rosie," said Arthur, looking at her gravely, as she sat down.

"She has utterly ruined her complexion. Such freckles! such sunburning!

and how stout she has grown!"

Rose laughed.

"Yes, I know I'm a fright. You must bring me something, Arthur.

Toilette vinegar, or something."

"Oh! it would not signify. You are quite beyond all that."

"Here comes Will, with a letter for each of us, I declare."

Arthur's letter was soon despatched, a mere business missive. Graeme's was laid down beside her, while she poured Will's coffee. Rose read hers at once, and before she was well down the first page, she uttered a cry of delight.

"Listen all. No, I won't read it just yet. Arthur, don't you remember a conversation that you and I had together, soon after Sandy was here?"

"Conversation," repeated Arthur. "We have talked, that is, you have talked, and I have listened, but as to conversation:--"

"But Arthur, don't you remember saying something about Emily, and I did not agree with you?"

"I have said a great many times, that I thought Emily a very pretty little creature. If you don't agree, it shows bad taste."

"I quite agree. I think her beautiful. She is not very little, however. She is nearly as tall as I am."

"What is it, Rose?" asked Graeme, stretching out her hand for the letter.

"You'll spoil your news, with your long preface," said Will.

"No, but I want Arthur to confess that I am wisest."

"Oh! I can do that, of course, as regards matters in general; but I should like to hear of this particular case."

"Well, don't you remember saying that you did not think Sandy and Emily would ever fall in love?"

"I remember no such a.s.sertion, on my part. On the contrary, I remember feeling pretty certain that the mischief was done already, as far as Sandy was concerned, poor fellow; and I remember saying, much to your indignation, more's the pity."

"Yes; and I remember you said it would be just like a sentimental little blue, like Emily, to slight the handsome, hearty young farmer, and marry some pale-faced Yankee professor."

"You put the case a little strongly, perhaps," said Arthur, laughing.

"But, on the whole, that is the way the matter stood. That was my opinion, I confess."

"And they are going to be married!" exclaimed Graeme and Will in a breath. "How glad Janet will be!"

"Emily does not say so, in so many words. It won't be for a long time yet, they are so young. But I am to be bridesmaid when the time comes."

"Well, if that is not saying it!" said Will laughing. "What would you have, Rosie?"

Graeme opened and read her letter, and laid it down beside her, looking a little pale and anxious.

"What is it, Graeme? Nothing wrong, I hope."

"No; I hope not. I don't know, I am sure. Norman says he is going to be married."

"Married!" cried Rose and Will.

"To Hilda?" said Arthur.

"Yes; but how could you have guessed?" said Graeme, bewildered.

"I did not guess. I saw it. Why it was quite easy to be seen that events have been tending toward it all these years. It is all very fine, this brother and sister intercourse; but I have been quite sure about them since Harry wrote about them."

"Well, Norman seems surprised, if you are not. He says, 'You will be very much astonished at all this; but you cannot be more astonished than I was myself. I did not think of such a thing; at least, I did not know that I was thinking of such a thing till young Conway, my friend, asked permission to address my sister. I was very indignant, though, at first, I did not, in the least, know why. However, Hilda helped me to find out all about it. At first I meant she should spend the winter with you all I want very much that you should know each other. But, on the whole, I think I can't spare her quite so long. Expect to see us therefore in November--one flesh!'" There was much more.

"Well done, Norman!" cried Arthur. "But, Graeme, I don't see what there is to look grave about. She seems to be a nice little thing, and Norman ought to know his own mind by this time."

"She's a great deal more than a nice little thing," said Graeme earnestly. "If one can judge by her letters and by Harry's description of her--to say nothing of Norman's opinion--she must be a very superior person, and good and amiable besides. But it seems so strange, so sudden. Why, it seems only the other day since Norman was such a mere boy. I wish she could have pa.s.sed the winter with us. I think, perhaps, I should write and say so."

"Yes, if you like. But Norman must judge. I think it is the wisest thing for him. He will have a settled home."

"I do believe it is," said Graeme, earnestly. "I am very glad--or I shall be in a little. But, just at first, it seems a little as though Norman would not be quite so much one of us--you know--and besides there really is something odd in the idea of Norman's being married; now, is there not?"