Part 7 (2/2)

”Did they not? And not so very Scotch.”

”Well, perhaps not so _very_--but rather so. But then I like the Scotch of Scotch people better than their English as a rule. However, the few words I heard them speak were softly and prettily spoken, and quite appropriate to the place and time. How it might seem elsewhere I could not say.”

”It is rather a nice place, too, isn't it? The estate is small, but he has no end of money, they tell me, and he seems a sensible old fellow enough.”

”The sister is a striking looking woman--with a certain dignity of manner, too.”

”Yes, and young Petrie tells me that she used to keep a little shop, in her young days. Indeed, not so very long ago.”

Mrs Eastwood did not reply to this. Her mind was evidently intent on solving the problem of Jean's tasteful gown.

”And at home too! I have heard that young people of their cla.s.s, get themselves up in fine style when they go out to tea. But sitting there on the gra.s.s, with the old woman in the cap--”

”But perhaps they are going out to tea.--To the garden party! 'By this and by that'--Did I tell you? Young Petrie at the bank asked me to go.

I have a great mind to go.”

He glanced down at the faultless grey morning suit he wore.

”I could not go all the way to Blackford House and return again, could I?”

”Hardly, and you could not improve yourself if you were to go. Yes, by all means accept the invitation. You will be sure to meet the Misses-- Dawson is it? And the circ.u.mstances will be more favourable for knowing them than they were this morning.”

It ended in Captain Harefield's leaving the carriage, and returning to Portie on foot. He lunched at the inn, and presented himself at Petrie Villa in company with the eldest son of the house in the course of the afternoon. It is to be supposed that he enjoyed himself, for this was by no means his last visit, and his sister was able to congratulate herself on getting him off her hands a good deal after this while they remained in the North.

Various circ.u.mstances combined, made this a pleasanter summer in Saughleas than the last had been. For one thing, Miss Jean was there more than usual. The fall which had made her almost helpless for a while, still prevented her from moving about with ease; and the Lord's ”little ones,” for the time, received the aid and comfort which she owed them for His sake, through the hands of others, and she had to content herself with sitting still and waiting His will.

She could have contented herself in circ.u.mstances more adverse than those in which she found herself. She knew that her presence in the house was a pleasure to her brother, and that it was not an uncomfortable restraint upon her nieces, as it might have become, even though they loved one another dearly, had she a.s.sumed any other place than that of visitor among them.

So young a mistress of a house, to which there were so many coming and going as there always were in summer, needed the help which the presence of an elder person gave, and it was all the better that the help was given and received with no words about it. Jean the younger, was glad of her aunt's stay, because she loved her, and because escaping now and then from the pleasant confusion that sometimes prevailed in the house, she found quiet and rest in her company. And though she might not have acknowledged her need of her help in any other way, she was doubtless the better of it.

It cannot be said that it was altogether a happy summer to her, but it was a very busy one. She was mistress and housekeeper, and gave her mind to her duties as she had not done at first. Indeed, it seemed that she was determined to give herself and her maidens no rest for a while, so intent was she in doing all that was to be done. And even when her maidens had necessary respite, she took none to herself. In the house or in the garden she occupied herself all the morning. She took long walks in the afternoon if there were no visitors to entertain, and if the rain, or the special need or wish of her aunt or her sister kept her in the house, she employed herself still with work of some sort, sitting at it steadily and patiently, ”as if she had her bread to make by it,”

her father said one day when he had been watching her for some time unperceived.

”I should like to know how it would seem to do that,” said Jean gravely.

”You would soon tire of it,” said her father laughing.

”I dare say. I tire of most things,” said she, rising and folding up the long, white garment on which she had been so busy.

Her father regarded her curiously from behind his newspaper. She did not look either well or happy at the moment, he thought.

”It is all nonsense, Jean la.s.sie, to keep yourself at your seam, as you have been doing for the last two hours, when there are so many poor women in Portie that would be glad to do it for what you would hardly miss.”

”But I like to do it, papa, for the moment, and one must do something.”

”It is just a whim of hers, papa,” said May laughing. ”Think of her stinting herself to do so much an hour, when she might as well be amusing herself.”

”It's good discipline, Auntie Jean says,” said Jean laughing. ”And I need, it she thinks. At any rate, every woman ought to do white seam in the very best way, and I didna like it when I was young.”

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