Part 19 (1/2)
”It would not have been the same to my father, as George and Elsie.”
”But coming after--it would have been all that over again, and worse.
And Willie Calderwood is as proud and hard about some things, as my father.”
”And that might have kept him from speaking,” said Jean.
”And so it ought, even if he had had any thing to say, which he had not.
You need not shake your head as though you didna believe me.”
”I must believe you--since you say so--for yourself. But you may be mistaken about him, though he never spoke.”
”Never spoke!” repeated May, mimicking her sister's voice and her grave manner. ”And do you think I would have needed words to let me know if he had cared for me--in that way? You are wise about some things, Jean, but you are not just so wise as you might be about others. Wait a while.”
May laughed and reddened, and then turned and climbed to the top of the rock to see if Hugh were in sight. Jean followed her slowly.
”I ought to be glad. I am glad. There is a great weight lifted from my heart. May is safe from the trouble that threatened, and so is my father. As for Willie Calderwood--well it is better for him too, that May doesna care, even if--And he'll get over it.”
When Hugh came back they all took their way to Miss Jean's house by the sea. But as Hugh was not yet equal to the feat of dismounting without more help than he was willing to accept from the young ladies, May and he soon turned their faces homeward again, and Jean, who had something to do in the town, was left behind. She sat a while with her aunt, but she was quite silent, and her face was turned toward the sea. Miss Jean was silent also, giving her a glance now and then, feeling sure that she had something more than usual on her mind which perhaps she might need a little help to tell.
”Well,” said she after a little, ”have you any news? I think I see something in your e'en. Come awa' frae the window and say what ye ha'e to say.”
Jean rose and came forward to the fire.
”Has my father been in? He will tell you himself, when there is really any thing to tell. He is sure to be in some time to-day.”
”And it is nothing to vex you, dear? Are you glad about it?”
”It ought not to vex me. It is only what was sure to happen. And though I am not glad yet--I dare say I shall be glad in time.”
”Is it about your sister?”
”Yes--and I think papa is glad. But he will tell you himself.”
”And there is nothing else?”
Jean sat looking at her aunt for a minute or two.
”Yes, there is something else that ought to lighten my heart. It has lightened it, I think. I'm not just sure.”
”And that is about May too?”
”Yes--about May.”
She said no more and her aunt did not question her. By and by Miss Jean said,--
”It's a bonny day--and fine for the season. It was a different day last year when the 'John Seaton' sailed.”
”Yes, I mind it well.”
Jean did not look like herself, but absent and dazed like, as though her mind were full of other things. Miss Jean said nothing for a while, and Jean rose as if she were going away; but stood for a while looking out of the window.