Part 5 (2/2)
”More than we expected. The Balfour greenhouse has been stripped and they have such a lovely company of violets and primroses and white hyacinths with plenty of green moss and ivy. The Baikies have a hothouse and have such roses and plumes of curled parsley to put behind them, and lilies-of-the-valley; and I have robbed thy greenhouse, Mother, and taken all thy fairest auriculas and cyclamens.”
”They are for G.o.d's altar. All I have is His. Take what vases thou wants, but Helga must carry them for thee.”
”And, Mother, can I have the beautiful white Wedgewood basket for the altar? It looked so exquisite last Easter.”
”It now belongs to the altar. I gave it freely last Easter. I promised then that it should never hold flowers again for any meaner festival.
Take whatever thou wants for thy purpose, and delay me no longer. I have this day to put two days' work into one day.” Then she lifted her eyes from the pastry she was making and looking at Thora, asked: ”Art thou not too lightly clothed?”
”I have warm underclothing on. Thou would not like me to dress G.o.d's altar in anything but pure white linen? All that I wear has been made spotless for this day's work.”
”That is right, but now thou must make some haste. There is no certainty about Aunt Barbie. She may be at her home this very minute.”
”The boat is not due until ten o'clock.”
”Not unless Barbara Brodie wanted to land at seven. Then, if she wished, winds and waves would have her here at seven. Her wishes follow her like a shadow. Go thy way now. Thou art troubling me. I believe I have put too much sugar in the custard.”
”But that would be a thing incredible.” Then Thora took a hasty kiss, and went her way. A large scarlet cloak covered her white linen dress, and its hood was drawn partially over her head. In her hands she carried the precious Wedgewood basket, and Helga and her daughter had charge of the flowers and of several gla.s.s vases for their reception.
In an hour all Thora required had been brought safely to the vestry of Saint Magnus, and then she found herself quite alone in this grand, dim, silent House of G.o.d.
In the meantime Aunt Barbara Brodie had done exactly as Rahal Ragnor antic.i.p.ated. The boat had made the journey in an abnormally short time. A full sea, and strong, favourable winds, had carried her through the stormiest Firth in Scotland, at a racer's speed; and she was at her dock, and had delivered all her pa.s.sengers when Conall Ragnor arrived at his warehouse. Then he had sent word to Rahal, and consequently she ventured on the prediction that ”Aunt Barbara might already be at her home.”
However, it had not been told the Mistress of Ragnor, that her sister-in-law had actually ”picked up someone on the way”; and that for this reason she had gone directly to her own residence. For on this occasion, her hospitality had been stimulated by a remarkably handsome young man, who had proved to be the son of Dr. John Macrae, a somewhat celebrated preacher of the most extreme Calvinist type. She heartily disapproved of the minister, but she instantly acknowledged the charm of his son; but without her brother's permission she thought it best not to hazard his influence over the inexperienced Thora.
”I am fifty-two years old,” she thought, ”and I know the measure of a man's deceitfulness, so I can take care of myself, but Thora is a childlike la.s.sie. It would not be fair to put her in danger without word or warning. The lad has a wonderful winning way with women.”
So she took her fascinating guest to her own residence, and when he had been refreshed by a good breakfast, he frankly said to her:
”I came here on special business. I have a large sum of money to deliver, and I think I will attend to that matter at once.”
”I will not hinder thee,” said Mrs. Brodie, ”I'm no way troubled to take care of my own money, but it is just an aggravation to take care of other folks' siller. And who may thou be going to give a 'large sum of money' to, in Kirkwall town? I wouldn't wonder if the party isn't my own brother, Captain Conall Ragnor?”
”No, Mistress,” the young man replied. ”It belongs to a young gentleman called McLeod.”
”Humph! A trading man is whiles very little of a gentleman. What do you think of McLeod?”
”I am the manager of his Edinburgh business, so I cannot discuss his personality.”
”That's right, laddie! Folks seldom see any good thing in their employer; and it is quite fair for them to be just as blind to any bad thing in him--but I'll tell you frankly that your employer has not a first rate reputation here.”
”All right, Mistress Brodie! His reputation is not in my charge--only his money. I do not think the quality of his reputation can hurt mine.”
”Your father's reputation will stand bail for yours. Well now, run away and get business off your mind, and be back here for one o'clock dinner. I will not wait a minute after the clock chaps one. This afternoon I am going to my brother's house, and I sent him a message which asks for permission to bring you with me.”
”Thanks!” but he said the word in an unthankful tone, and then he looked into Mistress Brodie's face, and she laughed and imitated his expression, as she a.s.sured him ”she had no girl with matrimonial intentions in view.”
”You see, Mistress,” he said, ”I do not intend to remain longer than a week. Why should I run into danger? I am ready to take heartaches. Can you tell me how best to find McLeod's warehouse?”
<script>