Janet's Love and Service Part 87

"I hope nothing has happened," said Rose, a little anxiously.

"I guess not--nothing to fret over. Her face don't look like it. Well, mother, you feel pretty smart to-night, don't you? You look first-rate."

"I am just as usual," said Mrs Snow, quietly. "But what has kept you so long? We were beginning to wonder about you."

"Has anything happened?" said Rose, looking over Mrs Snow's head, at a little crowd of people coming out at the door.

"We have visitors, that is all. The minister is here, and a friend of yours--your brother Harry's partner. He has brought news--not bad news, at least he doesna seem to think so, nor Miss Graeme. I have hardly heard it myself, yet, or seen the young man, for I was tired and had to lie down. But you'll hear it yourself in due time."

Rose reined her horse aside.

"Take care, dear," said Mrs Snow, as she sprung to the ground without a.s.sistance. "There is no need for such haste. You might have waited for Sandy or some one to help you, I think."

"What is it, Graeme?" said Rose, for her sister looked flashed and excited, and there were traces of tears on her cheeks she was sure. But she did not look anxious--certainly not unhappy.

"Rosie, dear, Charlie has come."

"Oh! Charlie has come, has he? That is it, is it?" said Rose, with a long breath.

Yes, there was Mr Millar, offering his hand and smiling--"exactly like himself," Rose thought, but she could not tell very well, for her eyes were dazzled with the red light of the setting sun. But she was very glad to see him, she told him; and she told the minister she was very glad to see _him_, too, in the very same tone, the next minute. There was not much time to say anything, however, for Hannah--whose patience had been tried by the delay--announced that tea was on the table, in a tone quite too peremptory to be trifled with.

"Rose, you are tired, I am sure. Never mind taking off your habit till after tea."

Rose confessed herself tired after her long and rapid ride.

"For I left Mr Snow at Major Spring's, and went on a long way by myself, and it is just possible, that, after all, you are right, and I have gone too far for the first ride; for see, I am a little shaky,"

added she, as the teacup she pa.s.sed to Mr Snow trembled in her hand.

Then she asked Mr Millar about the news he had brought them, and whether all were well, and a question or two besides; and then she gave herself up to the pleasure of listening to the conversation of the minister, and it came into Graeme's mind that if Harry had been there he would have said she was amusing herself with a little serious flirtation. Graeme did not think so, or, if she did, it did not make her angry as it would have made Harry; for though she said little, except to the grave wee Rosie Nasmyth, whom she had taken under her care, she looked very bright and glad. Rose looked at her once or twice, a little startled, and after a while, in watching her, evidently lost the thread of the minister's entertaining discourse, and answered him at random.

"I have a note from Harry," said Graeme, as they left the tea-table.

"Here it is. Go and take off your habit. You look hot and tired."

In a little while the visitors were gone and Mr Millar was being put through a course of questions by Mr Snow. Graeme sat and listened to them, and thought of Rose, who, all the time, was sitting up-stairs with Harry's letter in her hand.

It was not a long letter. Rose had time to read it a dozen times over, Graeme knew, but still she lingered, for a reason she could not have told to any one, which she did not even care to make very plain to herself. Mr Snow was asking, and Mr Millar was answering, questions about Scotland, and Will, and Mr Ruthven, and every word that was said was intensely interesting to her; and yet, while she listened eagerly, and put in a word now and then that showed how much she cared, she was conscious all the time, that she was listening for the sound of a movement overhead, or for her sister's footstep on the stair. By and by, as Charlie went on, in answer to Mr Snow's questions, to tell about the state of agriculture in his native shire, her attention wandered altogether, and she listened only for the footsteps.

"She may perhaps think it strange that I do not go up at once. I daresay it is foolish in me. Very likely this news will be no more to her than to me."

"Where is your sister?" said Mrs Snow, who, as well as Graeme, had been attending to two things at once. "I doubt the foolish la.s.sie has tired herself with riding too far."

"I will go and see," said Graeme.

Before she entered her sister's room Rose called to her.

"Is it you, Graeme? What do you think of Harry's news? He has not lost much time, has he?"

"I was surprised," said Graeme.

Rose was busy brushing her hair.

"Surprised! I should think so. Did you ever think such a thing might happen, Graeme?"

This was Harry's letter.

"My Dear Sisters,--I have won my Amy! You cannot be more astonished than I am. I know I am not good enough for her, but I love her dearly, and it will go hard with me if I don't make her happy. I only want to be a.s.sured that you are both delighted, to make my happiness complete."

Throwing her hair back a little, Rose read it again. This was not quite all. There was a postscript over the page, which Rose had at first overlooked, and she was not sure that Graeme had seen it. Besides, it had nothing to do with the subject matter of the note.

"Did the thought of such a thing ever come into your mind?" asked she again, as she laid the letter down.

"Yes," said Graeme, slowly. "It did come into my mind more than once.

And, on looking back, I rather wonder that I did not see it all. I can remember now a good many things that looked like it, but I never was good at seeing such affairs approaching, you know."

"Are you glad, Graeme?"

"Yes, I am glad. I believe I shall be very glad when I have had time to think about it."

"Because Harry's happiness won't be complete unless you are, you know,"

said Rose, laughing.

"I am sure Harry is quite sincere in what he says about it," said Graeme.

"It is not to be doubted. I daresay she is a nice little thing; and, after all, it won't make the same difference to us that f.a.n.n.y's coming did."

"No, if we are to consider it with reference to ourselves. But I think I am very glad for Harry's sake."

"And that is more than we could have said for Arthur. However, there is no good going back to that now. It has all turned out very well."

"Things mostly do, if people will have patience," said Graeme, "and I am sure this will, for Harry, I mean. I was always inclined to like little Amy, only--only, we saw very little of her you know--and--yes, I am sure I shall love her dearly."

"Well, you must make haste to tell Harry so, to complete his happiness.

And he is very much astonished at his good fortune," said Rose, taking up the letter again. "'Not good enough for her,' he says. That is the humility of true love, I suppose; and, really, if he is pleased, we may be. I daresay she is a nice little thing."

"She is more than just a nice little thing. You should hear what Mr Millar says of her."

"He ought to know! 'Poor Charlie,' as Harry calls him in the pride of his success. Go down-stairs, Graeme, and I will follow in a minute; I am nearly ready!"

The postscript which Rose was not sure whether Graeme had seen, said, "poor Charlie," and intimated that Harry's sisters owed him much kindness for the trouble he was taking in going so far to carry them the news in person. Not Harry's own particular news, Rose supposed, but tidings of Will, and of all that was likely to interest them from both sides of the sea.

"I would like to know why he calls him 'poor Charlie,'" said Rose, with a shrug. "I suppose, however, we must all seem like objects of compa.s.sion to Harry, at the moment of his triumph, as none of us have what has fallen to him."

Graeme went down without a word, smiling to herself as she went. She had seen the postscript, and she thought she knew why Harry had written "poor Charlie," but she said nothing to Rose. The subject of conversation had changed during her absence, it seemed.

"I want to know! Do tell!" Mr Snow was saying. "I call that first-rate news, if it is as you say, Mr Millar. Do the girls know it?

Graeme, do you know that Harry is going to be married."

"Yes, so Harry tells me."