Janet's Love and Service Part 64

"Oh! don't be alarmed. Graeme is too well accustomed by this time, to Mrs Grove's impertinences, to allow anything she says to trouble her,"

said Rose, with flashing eyes.

Mrs Snow's hand was laid softly on that of the young girl, who had risen in her indignation.

"Sit down, my dear," she whispered.

"Nonsense, Rosie," said her brother; "there is nothing to be vexed about. How can you be so foolish?"

"Indeed," said f.a.n.n.y, a little frightened at the excitement she had raised, "mamma didn't mean anything that you wouldn't like. She only thought--"

"We had better say nothing more about it," said Arthur, interrupting her. "I dare say Graeme can manage her own affairs without help from other people. But there is nothing to be vexed about, Rosie. Don't put on a face like that about it, you foolish la.s.sie."

"What is the matter here, good people?" said Graeme, entering at the moment. "What are you quarrelling about? What ails Rosie?"

"Oh! Mrs Grove has been giving her some good advice, which she don't receive so meekly as she might," said Arthur.

"That is very ungrateful of you, Rosie," said her sister. Mrs Grove's interference didn't seem a sufficient matter to frown about.

"How is she now, my dear?" inquired Mrs Snow, by way of changing the subject.

_She_ was Mrs Tilman, who had of late become subject to sudden attacks of illness, "not dangerous, but severe," as she herself declared. They had become rather frequent, but as they generally came on at night, and were over before morning, so that they did not specially interfere with her work, they were not alarming to the rest of the household. Indeed, they seldom heard of them till they were over; for the considerate Mrs Tilman was wont to insist to Sarah, that the ladies should not be disturbed on her account. But Sarah had become a little uncomfortable, and had confessed as much to Graeme, and Graeme desired to be told the next time she was ill, and so it happened that she was not present when a subject so interesting to herself was discussed.

"Is Mrs Tilman ill again?" asked f.a.n.n.y. "How annoying! She is not very ill, I hope."

"No," said Graeme, quietly; "she will be better to-morrow."

That night, in the retirement of their chamber, Mr and Mrs Snow were in no haste to begin, as was their custom, the comparing of notes over the events of the day. This was usually the way when anything not very pleasant had occurred, or when anything had had been said that it was not agreeable to recall. It was Mr Snow who began the conversation.

"Well, what do you think of all that talk?" asked he, when his wife sat down, after a rather protracted putting away of various articles in boxes and drawers.

"Oh! I think little of it--just what I have ay thought--that yon is a meddlesome, short-sighted woman. It is a pity her daughter hasna the sense to see it."

"Oh! I don't think the little thing meant any harm. But Rosie flared right up, didn't she?"

"I shouldna wonder but her conscience told her there was some truth in the accusation--about her love of admiration, I mean. But Mrs Arthur is not the one that should throw stones at her for that, I'm thinking."

"But about Graeme! She will never marry that man, will she?"

"He'll never ask her," said Mrs Snow, shortly. "At least I think he never will."

"Well, I don't know. It looked a little like it, last night and come to think of it, he talked a little like it, too."

"He is no' the man to ask any woman, till he is sure he will not ask in vain. He may, but I dinna think it."

"Well, perhaps not. Of course, I could see last night, that it was all fixed, their being together. But I thought she stood it pretty well, better than she would if she hadn't liked it."

"Hoot, man! She thought nothing about it. Her thoughts were far enough from him, and his likes, and dislikes," said Mrs Snow, with a sigh.

"As a general thing, girls are quick enough to find out when a man cares for them, and he showed it plainly to me. I guess she mistrusts."

"No, a woman kens when a man his lost his heart to her. He lets her see it in many ways, when he has no thought of doing so. But a woman is not likely to know it, when a man without love wishes to marry her, till he tells her in words. And what heart has twenty years cheat'ry of his fellow men left to yon man, that my bairn should waste a thought on a worldling like him?"

Mr Snow was silent. His wife's tone betrayed to him that something was troubling her, or he would have ventured a word in his new friend's defence. Not that he was inclined to plead Mr Green's cause with Graeme, but he could not help feeling a little compa.s.sion for him, and he said:

"Well, I suppose I feel inclined to take his part, because he makes me think of what I was myself once, and that not so long ago."

The look that Mrs Snow turned upon her husband was one of indignant astonishment.

"Like you! You dry stick!"

"Well, ain't he? You used to think me a pretty hard case. Now, didn't you?"

"I'm no' going to tell you to-night what I used to think of you," said his wife, more mildly. "I never saw you on the day when you didna think more of other folks' comfort than you thought of your own, and that couldna be said of him, this many a year and day. He is not a fit mate for my bairn."

"Well--no, he ain't. He ain't a Christian, and that is the first thing she would consider. But he ain't satisfied with himself, and if anybody in the world could bring him to be what he ought to be, she is the one."

And he repeated the conversation that had taken place when they were left alone in the summer-house.

"But being dissatisfied with himself, is very far from being a changed man, and that work must be done by a greater than Graeme. And besides, if he were a changed man to-night, he is no' the man to win Miss Graeme's heart, and he'll no ask her. He is far more like to ask Rosie; for I doubt she is not beyond leading him on for her own amus.e.m.e.nt."

"Oh! Come now, ain't you a little too hard on Rosie," said Mr Snow, expostulatingly. He could not bear that his pet should be found fault with. "I call _that_ as cruel a thing as a woman can do, and Rosie would never do it, I hope."

"Not with a conscious desire to give pain. But she is a bonny creature, and she is learning her own power, as they all do sooner or later; and few make so good a use of such power as they might do;" and Mrs Snow sighed.

"You don't think there is anything in what Mrs Grove said about Graeme and her friend I have heard so much about?" asked Mr Snow, after a pause.

"I dinna ken. I would believe it none the readier that yon foolish woman said it."

"She seems kind of down, though, these days, don't she? She's graver and quieter than she used to be," said Mr Snow, with some hesitation.

He was not sure how his remark would be taken.

"Oh! well, maybe. She's older for one thing," said his wife, gravely.

"And she has her cares; some of them I see plainly enough, and some of them, I daresay, she keeps out of sight. But as for Allan Ruthven, it's not for one woman to say of another that, she has given her heart unsought. And I am sure of her, that whatever befalls her, she is one of those that need fear no evil."

CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE.

"It is a wonder to me, Miss Graeme," said Mrs Snow, after one of their long talks about old times--"it is a wonder to me, that minding Merleville and all your friends there as well as you do, you should never have thought it worth your while to come back and see us."

"Worth our while!" repeated Graeme. "It was not indifference that hindered us, you may be sure of that. I wonder, myself, how it is we have never gone back again. When we first came here, how Will, and Rosie, and I, used to plan and dream about it! I may confess, now, how very homesick we all were--how we longed for you. But, at first, the expense would have been something to consider, you know; and afterwards, other things happened to prevent us. We were very near going once or twice."

"And when was that?" asked Mrs Snow, seemingly intent on her knitting, but all the time aware that the old shadow was hovering over Graeme.

She did not answer immediately.

"Once was with Norman and Hilda. Oh! I did so long to go with them! I had almost made up my mind to go, and leave Rosie at home. I was glad I didn't, afterward."

"And why did you not?" demanded her friend.