Part 11 (1/2)
”None of any kind. I do not think Donald did anything wrong. If Elder Reid has fears for his son, let him look after him. I certainly told Donald that the Elder would send him off if he tempted his son Allan again; and perhaps I let Donald see and feel that I should not be grieved at all if he relieved Mr. Reid's anxiety about his son's morals.”
”Did Donald understand you?”
”He said, 'Thank you, Father!' And then I remarked you were wearying to see him, and that I would wait in Bath Street until three o'clock if he wished to go to Cramer with me.”
”But did you not come by that train?”
”No. I saw that Donald could not forego the pleasure of 'sending himself off' and this he could not do until Reid returned to his office after the lunch hour.”
”I hope he kept in mind the fact that Mr. Reid is your chief Elder, and used few and civil words as became his youth and his position.”
”He behaved like a gentleman. He apologized for asking his son to join the serenading party, and begged leave to resign his stool in the office lest he might offend again. And the Elder was much annoyed, and replied that he hoped he would remain; for, Jessy, I am sure he was in his heart very proud of Allan being invited into the Provost's parlor to eat and drink with the notables there.”
”Certainly he was, and he will talk of the lad's capers as long as he lives, and in a little while both Allan and his father will have come to believe that the whole affair was of Allan's planning and management.”
”I have no doubt of it. Donald, however, refused even his offer of a higher salary to begin in September and, bowing respectfully, left him alone with his disappointment and chagrin. As he was going through the office, Allan called him, and then Donald's temper got a little beyond his control, and he walked near to where Allan sat among the clerks, and said, 'I have no words for a tale-bearer, Allan Reid. He is always a contemptible fellow, and I warn you, gentlemen, that you are with a spy and a mischief-maker.' That is the end of the circ.u.mstance, Jessy.”
”You little know whether it is the end or the beginning, Ian.”
”As far as Donald is concerned, I mean. He came to me radiantly happy and satisfied with himself and, after we had drank a cup of tea, we came leisurely home.”
”Very leisurely. I'll admit that. Well, we have to take ourselves as we are and other people as we can get them, and it is not always an easy job.”
”Indeed, Jessy, there is scarcely anything that is at the same time more wise and more difficult.”
CHAPTER IV
THE GREAT TEMPTATION
”Love not, love not! Oh, warning vainly said, In present years, as in the years gone by; Love flings a halo round the dear one's head Faultless, immortal--till they change or die.”
It was a warm, sunny day in August, and the slim and graceful Adalaide, Lady of Cramer, was waiting and watching for Dr. Macrae. She had a new purpose in her heart, and it was evident not only in her eyes, which were full of a soft blue fire--languid yet masterful--but also in her dress, from which every trace of black had been eliminated. In a soft flowing gown of white lawn and lace, with belt and bows of white satin, she looked fresh and lovely as a flower on the day of its birth.
”Take my book and work-basket to the Ladies' Rest, Flora,” she said to her maid, ”and if there are callers, they may come to me. Tell Brodie to attend them.”
The Ladies' Rest was a circle of wonderful turf in the very center of which stood a gigantic oak, whose far-stretching branches kept the circle in a dreamy, shadowy peace. Near the heart of the circle there were seats, and a small table, and my Lady, standing in white on its green turf, with the green and golden lights of the garden all around her, was as fair a creature as mortal eyes could desire to see.
When left alone her elfin prettiness became particularly noticeable, for she was practicing her bewildering ways to her own thoughts, her manner being at one moment arch and coquettish, and at the next pensive and affectionate; practicing all her small facial arts with the predeterminate aim and intention of capturing the hitherto impregnable, insensible heart of the handsome Minister.
He was quite unconscious of the danger into which he was walking, and his thoughts were on the eternities, and the tremendous destinies that are connected with them. The gravity induced by such thoughts was becomingly dignified, and Lady Cramer thought him handsomer than even her imagination had painted him. Certainly he was worth captivating, and she was resolved to effect this purpose. Indeed she wondered at herself for not having accomplished such a delightful triumph before.
But, if she had honestly examined her dilatory movement in this direction, she would have known that it was caused by facts brought vividly to her notice during the past few weeks, when Cramer Hall had been filled with company of a pleasantly mixed character--young n.o.bles and soldiers, and many types of beautiful and eligible young ladies.
Every one, then, had regarded her as a kind of matron, and she found all her pretenses to be yet of the younger set quietly put aside. She was admired and treated with the greatest respect, but no one made love to her; and she was piqued and humbled by this neglect.
”Because I am thirty-two,” she said to herself, ”because I am thirty-two, I was treated like an old lady. The insolence of youth is intolerable!” Then she heard steps upon the flagged walk and, turning, saw the stately, rather somber figure of the man whose conquest she was meditating approaching her. She met him with charming smiles, and little fluttering attentions and, in words soft and hesitating, tried to hide, and yet to express her great joy in his presence. ”It is so long--so long--since I saw you! I have felt desolate and, oh, so lonely!”
”Lonely! You have had so much pleasant company.”