Part 41 (1/2)

Mr Dawson had to wait a good while for the return of his son that night, and he watched him rather anxiously from the window when at last he came in sight George moved slowly, with a graver face than usual, and though his eyes were wandering over the pleasant green of the lawn and gardens, his father knew that his thoughts were not with his eyes.

”How little I am in his life besides what he is in mine!” thought the old man with a sigh. ”But so it ay maun be between father and son, and he is a good son to me--a good son. And it's no' for what I have to give him,” added he with a sudden movement of both pleasure and pain at his heart. ”Though bonny Saughleas were in other hands, and all my gold and gear were swept into the sea, he would be sorry doubtless, but he would be a good son still. And he would not be unhappy, for his portion--that which he has chosen for himself in life would still remain to him.”

The old man's heart grew soft and a little sad, but he spoke just as usual when George came in. ”Ye're late the nicht.”

”Yes. I went round by the station to see the Calderwoods off. And I think I have taken longer time than usual for the walk home. I must be tired, I suppose.”

”And no wonder. And so they are gone. And was nothing said about their coming back to Portie again?”

”No. There was time for few words, and there were other people there to see them off--the Petries, and Maggie Saugster, and some others.”

”Was James Petrie there? Then his answer has been to his mind, or maybe he hasna asked the question. I dare say he was as wise.”

To this George made no reply whether he understood or not, and in a little he left the room. But his father's first words went back to the same subject.

”It is no' so unwise a thing in James Petrie as it looks, because--”

”His wisdom has to be proved,” said George gravely. And then he held out a letter to his father.

”I don't believe in bringing business to Saughleas, as a rule, but I thought it as well to let you see this to-night.”

His father took it and read it. It was a business letter--important, but still it might have waited till morning.

”It is because he doesna wish to hear about James Petrie and his hopes.

It is of her sister dead and gone that he is thinking,” said his father with a sigh. ”His is a true and tender heart, and oh! I wish that I could do him a pleasure.” Suddenly there returned to him the thought that had been with him during his long wanderings over the wet sands that weary time of waiting.

”There is nothing which I possessed, that I would not have given for a thank-offering that night. And there is nothing that I would not give now.”

And when George came into the room after a long hour or two, his father was pondering the same matter still.

In a few days Mr Dawson declared that it was quite time that Jean were coming home, and to the surprise of his sister and his son he announced his intention of going to fetch her.

For in the opinion of both, and certainly in her own opinion, Jean was quite able to take care of herself, whether in the house or by the way, and there was no need of his going for her sake. But he went, and stayed a few days, and they came home together. Jean had no light to throw on his motive for the journey, for he had never intimated that he thought she needed his escort home.

But in a few days there came a letter from Mrs Manners to her aunt which said,--

”The strangest thing happened when my father was in London. He went to see Mrs Calderwood, with whom he had not exchanged words for years.

Marion was with me, so it was not she that he went to see. And her mother never told her what he had to say. He only left a small parcel which her mother was to give her when she came home. It turned out to be an exquisite little gold watch. Mrs Calderwood would have refused so valuable a gift for her daughter, if she had known it, which would have been very absurd, as I told Marion. For what is a few pounds more or less to my father. But I would give my own watch and chain too, to know just what was said between them.

”I have written all this to you, auntie, because my father whiles reads Jean's letters, and he might not be pleased that I have told it. But if you think it wise, you may tell George; I am sure he will be glad to hear it. And as for Marion--I do not wonder that she has stolen my father's heart in spite of him.”

Mrs Manners would have paid dear for a knowledge of all that pa.s.sed.

In one way it was very little.

Mr Dawson sent in his name and waited in the drawing-room, and Mrs Calderwood came in a little with a smile on her lips, expecting to see George.

”I have come to say, 'let by-ganes be by-ganes' between us. If you can forgive all that is past, give me your hand.”

He spoke almost harshly as his manner was when moved, but he spoke sincerely and even eagerly, and Mrs Calderwood could hardly have refused her hand, even if she had not long ago forgiven him, as she herself hoped to be forgiven.

”I have never borne ill-will, Mr Dawson,” said she.