The Twa Miss Dawsons Part 47

"It canna be long ere we hear now."

"No. It canna be long," said Jean, recalling her thoughts and taking up her work again.

"And they all seem to be in good heart about the ship. They may come any day. It has been a long time of suspense to his mother, and to us all."

"Yes. It has been a long time."

"It will soon be over now in one way or another. And even if he should never come, it will only be like a longer voyage, that will be sure to have a happy ending in a peaceful haven, where the mother and son are sure to meet."

"And she will have him for her own at last."

Neither spoke for a long time after this. Jean's head drooped lower, and though her eyes were on the sea, it was not the harbour of Portie that she saw, but a wide waste of ocean with a labouring ship, making for her desired haven, it might be, but bringing no one home to her.

She rose and moved restlessly about the room.

"I wish you were able to go for a little walk, auntie. Dinna ye think it might do ye good to take a turn or two up and down by the sea?"

"No' the day, my dear. But if ye would like to go out, never heed me.

I think myself that a walk would do you good, or a fine long seam, such as your mother used to give you to do, when your restlessness was ower muckle for yourself and others. But the walk would be more to your mind, I dare say." Jean laughed.

"But then, I have the long seam ready to my hands," said she, sitting down again and taking up her work resolutely. By and by, when she forgot it and her face was turned seaward again, her aunt laid down hers also and said softly, with a certain hesitation,--

"Jean, my dear, did you and Willie Calderwood part friends?"

Jean sat absolutely motionless for a minute or two. "Yes, aunt, we were friends always. As to parting--"

"Weel--as to parting?"

"We had no parting. He went away without a word."

"That was hardly like a friend on his part," said Miss Jean gravely, and then in a little she added,--

"And, Jean, love, were ye never mair than friends?" Then Jean rose, and turning looked straight in her aunt's face.

"No. Never more than friends. You surely havena been thinking ill thoughts of Willie, auntie?"

"That's nae likely. But whiles I ha'e wondered--and now that he is coming hame--" Jean stood a moment irresolute, and then coming forward she sat down on a ha.s.sock at her aunt's feet, as she often did, and leaned her head upon her hand.

"Jean, my dear, have ye nothing to say to me?"

"No, aunt. There is nothing. I have no more right to grieve or to be glad for Willie Calderwood than any one of his many friends in Portie."

"Grief or gladness is whiles no' a question o' rights," said Miss Jean gently.

Jean said nothing. She was too weary and spent to be very angry with herself for the weakness which had betrayed her secret. But she had strength and courage to shut her lips on the words that rose to them.

And before her aunt had time for another word they heard Mrs Calderwood speaking to Nannie at the door. Except for a sudden bright colour that had risen to her cheeks, Jean was just as usual when she came in.

"There's nae news?" said Miss Jean.

This had long been her first salutation to any one coming in.

"No, there is nothing more," said Mrs Calderwood.

"Weel, we maun just have patience."

Jean brought forward an easy chair for her aunt's friend, and carried out some tea for Nannie to make a cup to refresh her after her walk.

But she did not sit down again.

"I'll go now. I have something to get in the town. Shall I come round this way again, Mrs Calderwood, so that we may walk home together? or will it be too long for you to wait?"

It would not be too long. There was no haste, Mrs Calderwood said.

George had gone home already and was to take Marion out for a little while, and they might come round this way to get a sight of Miss Jean.

So Jean promised to return, and then she went out, not quite knowing where she was to go, or what she was to do. But it was settled for her.

For as she turned into the High-street she met her father.

"I was going to your aunt's to say that I am going to John Stott's. I canna say just when I may be home, and you are not to wait for me."

"Is John worse, papa? Let me go with you. I needna go into the house."

"I doubt he is near as bad as he can be, and be living. I doubt it is ower far."

"Ower far! No' for me, if it's no' ower far for you. And I have nothing to do that canna be put off. And it is a long time since we have had a walk together."

So, well pleased, they set out John Stott was a labourer who had long been in Mr Dawson's employment. He had been for days ill with fever, and was now supposed to be dying. They spoke of him a little, and of the helpless family he would leave, and of the best manner of helping them without making their help seem like alms. For John had long been a faithful servant, and Mr Dawson meant to set his heart at rest about those, he was leaving; indeed this was the reason of his visit at this time.

Then after a little he spoke, not quite so hopefully as usual about the "Ben Nevis," saying they must hear soon now, or they would have to give her up altogether. Then he went on to say how well it was that Marion had grown so strong before any particular excitement either of joy or pain had come to disturb her.

"She is very well," said Jean. "George is going to take her out in the pony carriage this afternoon, her mother told us. I left her at Aunt Jean's."

"I doubt that is venturesome of him. I hope he'll take the best of the afternoon to it. And that is near over already. He'll be thinking of taking her back to the High-street again, I suppose," said he discontentedly, "unless we can persuade them to bide at Saughleas altogether."

Jean was silent a minute or two.

"There are just two things that would be likely to prevent them," said she.

"Weel, let us hear of them."

"One is that except for a while, Mrs Calderwood would not easily be persuaded to think of Saughleas as her home; and both George and Marion wish her to remain with them."

"Which is but right. George is no' a man to let himself be vexed with his mother-in-law, even were she a more difficult person. But why should she not live with them at Saughleas?"

But as he asked the question he saw that such a thing would seem impossible to Mrs Calderwood. It was not a matter for discussion, however.

"And what is the other reason?"

"It is not a very good reason. Both George and Marion think that I should be the mistress of Saughleas, while I am there. They think, and other folk think, that I would not like to--to be set aside. And I might not like it. But if it were the best way for all, my not liking it would be a small matter."

Mr Dawson muttered impatiently,--