Playing With Fire Part 22

"Where is Richard? I have not had a letter from him in two days."

"I do not know--exactly."

"Nor do I. He told me that he was going to see Lady Cramer about the settlement of his debt to her. It is shameful in her to press it."

"Not at all. It is her right. He said that himself."

"I did not mind getting no letter yesterday, but here is another day nearly gone, and I do not expect to sleep a moment to-night. I am so anxious about him."

"Preserve us all! What are you talking about? It is fairly sinful of you to be making trouble where there is none. That is the way to worry love to death, if so be you want that result."

"You care for no one but Donald now, Aunt."

"You are not far wrong. Donald is in trouble."

"You love Donald best."

"I like Donald's way best. There is no shilly-shallying with Donald. I like a definite 'Yes' and 'No' in answer to important questions."

"Women cannot get into pa.s.sions and say unladylike words, especially to their fathers. You taught me that yourself. 'Exceed in nothing. Be moderate in all things.' These were among your regular advices."

"All right. Moderation is a very respectable word. I wish you would apply it to the subject of letters."

"You are cross with me, Aunt, and without any reason."

"Reason enough when I see you worrying yourself--and me, also--about the coming of a letter from your lover; and caring nothing about the going away--perhaps forever--of your own brother. Kin is closer than all other ties--ever and always, blood is thicker than water."

Then Marion was angry. "I am glad I was respectful and moderate with Father," she said haughtily. "He is the best and greatest of men. He is the Minister of G.o.d. I cannot be too respectful. I intend----"

"To marry Allan Reid and send away Richard Cramer. Good girl! I wish you joy of your choice--such as it is."

For six days the partial estrangement lasted, but Marion and her father seemed to enjoy the interval. They were much together, and Mrs. Caird was frequently startled by the Minister's hearty laugh over some of Marion's observations, and once by his actually joining her in singing that tender little love song, "My Love's in Germany."

"My love's in Germany, Send him hame! Send him hame!

My love's in Germany, Fighting for loyalty, He may ne'er his Jeannie see, Send him hame! Send him hame!"

The enthralling longing and sweetness of this melody doubtless echoed the dearest wish of both hearts; for, if Marion was watching for Richard Cramer, the Minister had an equal fervor of desire for his beautiful Ada.

For a week there appeared to be no change in affairs, but the slight feeling of separation or estrangement did not trouble Mrs. Caird. She knew that Donald was with his Uncle Hector, and would be there until Richard's return; then, it would be time enough for her to interfere, if interference was necessary. But during this interval, Donald had requested her to give no one any information as to his whereabouts. For, though his uncle had sheltered him readily and kindly, he had also said:

"Mind this, Donald. You are to keep a close mouth about Uncle Hector. I could not endure every woman in the Church of the Disciples clacking with their neighbor concerning the sin of my encouraging you in your disobedience against your father. You are freely welcome, laddie, but you must be quiet for a few days. I have written to Richard to hurry himself here, for reasons of my own, as well as yours. I see you are wondering at my writing to Lord Cramer."

"I did not know you were friendly--that is all."

"I knew the present Lord Cramer when you were in petticoats and ankle bands. The late Lord Cramer and I fished in Cromarty Bay, and hunted on Cromarty Hills together half a century ago. When he got the estate into trouble it was my care and skill saved it from roup and rent rack. Then he married his second wife, a b.u.t.terfly of a woman who wasted and helped her stepson to waste, and I knew well things were going wrong long before the old lord died."

"Richard told me," said Donald, "that it was not so much the amount he was owing as the people to whom it was due that had made him resolve to retire for awhile and let the income of the estate have time to pay its debts."

"He is right. His stepmother is a large creditor and she bores him. The Jews come next and, sleeping or waking, they are robbing him. We are going to stop all such plundering; then, if he will be quiet a short time, he will be in comfortable circ.u.mstances. He tells me he is going to marry Marion, and I am bound to make things as pleasant as possible for my niece. Forbye I have a liking for the young man on his own account."

"You will then be uncle to a lord, if you are caring for such mere words."

"I am uncle to _the Macrae_, that is honor enough. The Macraes are a far older and more honorable family than the Cramers; 'by our permission'

they settled in Cromarty--well, well, this is old world talk, and means nothing to the matter in hand. You will stay quietly here till I have done with Richard."

"Will you require him long, Uncle?"

"A day will be sufficient. I only want his authority to use his name to papers necessary to carry out my plans for his relief." Then he laughed and, clapping his hands resoundingly, cried out, "Great Scot! How amazed he will be to learn of his good luck!"

"Oh, I hope he has some good luck! He is such a fine fellow!"

"Luck! Wonderful luck! Undreamed of good luck. But that is the way G.o.dsends come--steal round a corner of your life, and stand at your door, and never sign or whisper before them."

"If I have to stay a few days, Uncle, is there not something I can do to earn my bread while I wait?"

"Plenty of writing you can do; only, you'll not write a line to your sister. If you do, she will come with her own answer, all smiles and tears and compliments, things I can't stand against, and won't try to."

"I will not write to Marion at all. I must write to my aunt. She will tell no one. I will swear it for her."

"As far as I know, your aunt is a prudent, douce woman; but crooked and straight are all women, uncertain, Donald, uncertain as the law."

"Not so with aunt. Jessy Caird is straight all through and at all times."

"I'll take your word for her. It is only for an odd occasion; one promise at a time is as far as I durst trust myself with any woman."

So Mrs. Caird was not astonished when, one morning in the early part of the following week, Lord Cramer entered the Minister's parlor while the family were at breakfast. He held Marion's hand while he offered his other hand to Dr. Macrae; and Dr. Macrae took it, though Mrs. Caird noticed that he left the table while doing so, saying he had finished his breakfast and, when Lord Cramer had done likewise, he would be glad if he would come into his study for a little conversation. "And, pray,"

he added, "how was Lady Cramer when you left her?"

"In the finest of health and spirits," was the answer. "Indeed, sir, you would vow she was but twenty years old. She is the gayest of the gay, and outdresses the Parisians."

Dr. Macrae bowed, but made no answer, and Mrs. Caird, who knew every phase and mood of the man's temper, was quite sure that no words could have translated that silence. It was like a black frost. For he had in his breast pocket a letter from Lady Cramer, received an hour previously, in which she described herself as really ill with longing for him, having no heart for the follies and gaieties of Paris and seldom going out. Further, she declared that nothing but the wretched climate of Scotland kept her from flying back to Cramer and to him; but her cough troubled her in damp weather, and she felt herself frail, and wished to get well and strong for his sake.

"And I have been believing and pitying this lying woman!" he said in an awful whisper, as he took the false message from his breast, and with a silent rage savagely placed his foot upon it. "I will never write another word to this shameless creature! I will never speak to her again! If she sought her pardon at my feet, I would spurn her from me,"

and to such pa.s.sionate evil promises he trod the lying letter under his foot. Then he sat down, erect and motionless, with eyes fixed and arms folded across his breast. For, though trouble with the majority runs into motion, with Dr. Macrae it gathered itself together, and in a still, dumb intentness thought out how best to suffer or to do.

Fortunately Richard had so much to say to Marion that his breakfast occupied him nearly a couple of hours, and by that time Dr. Macrae had decided on his course. He was now more than ever determined to prevent his daughter's marriage to Lord Cramer. How could he permit her to come under the influence of a woman so wicked as Lady Cramer? She would either alienate his daughter from him or she would alienate her husband, and make his child a wronged and miserable wife. To prevent this marriage had suddenly become the most imperative duty of his life.

Really, from Dr. Macrae's point of view, there was nothing favorable for Marion in it. He held his uncle's ideas with regard to the superior n.o.bility of the Macraes; he did not like Lord Cramer personally, and he believed him to be much poorer than he really was. With the pertinacity of his race he still clung to the Reid alliance. He told himself that circ.u.mstances have a kind of omnipotence, and that any day they might alter affairs so radically that Marion might come to see things as he did. "If Cramer would only go to the other side of the earth," he whispered, "it would leave a vacuum in Marion's life. Nature abhors a vacuum; she would hasten to fill it, and there is the possibility--yes, the likelihood--that Allan might slip into that other man's place, or the other man might be killed--or he might see someone he liked better than Marion--if Richard Cramer would only go away--if he would only go forever--yes, forever! It is no sin to wish a bad man to his deserts."

At this reflection Richard Cramer entered the room, and the first words he uttered seemed to promise a realization of Dr. Macrae's desire.

"Well, sir," he said, as he took the chair Dr. Macrae indicated, "well, sir, I am going with the Enniskillen Dragoons to India next week, but our route is far north, and so we shall doubtless escape the cholera."

"But not the warlike native tribes?"

"We are going to turn them into peaceable tribes."

"Not an easy task."