Chapter 6: The Laird Speaks

“I held her hand, the pledge of bliss,
Her hand that trembled and withdrew;
She bent her head before my kiss,
My heart was sure that hers was true.”
Landor.

ROWENA drew a long breath, then she said very quietly: “Of course I will. I am all attention!”

“I want to refer again to that letter which I sent you before you went to India, and which you never received. In it I asked you if you would write regularly to me as a friend, and I felt then I had no right to ask you if you could link your life to mine, because of my delicate health, and because—I could not offer you the gift you deserve—the offer of a first fresh love! I told you in the letter that if I did not hear from you in response I should conclude you did not want our acquaintance to deepen into warm friendship; and, not hearing, I concluded you felt we must remain merely acquaintances. I have tried to put you out of my thoughts. It is quite impossible. I know I am years older than you, that I am a quiet humdrum sort of creature, who has no attractive qualities for a bright young woman like yourself; but I cannot help that. My child loves you, and I—well, you have been in my heart and life from the first day I ever saw you, and I want your love if you can give it to me. I want to take you away from this life you are leading, back to Abertarlie. Will you give me the right to do it?”

Rowena’s eyes were downcast. She did not speak for a moment. The rush of happiness that came to her heart almost overcame her self-control. She had striven for many a long day to put this friend out of her thoughts. She had taken herself to task for thrilling all over when he spoke or looked at her. She had schooled herself to consider that he and she would always remain pleasant friends, but would never get nearer each other. And now he cared—he had always cared!

He waited patiently; and then she looked up. Tears were glistening in her eyes. She stretched out her hands to him.

“Here I am,” she said simply; “to belong to you will be bliss, for you have had my love for a long time.”

“Really?”

He seemed as if he could not quite believe it. His humble diffidence was most touching. Then he took her in his arms, and no further speech was needed.

“If you had had that letter,” he said presently, “you would never have gone to live with Mrs. Burke. Rowena dearest, you must leave her at once. I cannot bear to think of you continuing to live with her.”

Rowena looked at him with her old sunny smile.

“Hugh, —you see your name comes quite easily to my lips; I am afraid I have often called you by it in my heart before—if you love me, you must trust me. Look me in the eyes, and tell me if you can.”

“Who would not?” was his emphatic response.

“Then don’t overpower me with your protecting love and care. I am not a weak young girl. I have had to stand alone, and be a prop to others, and think of their faltering steps before my own. And at present Mrs. Burke is my mission in life. Your love won’t shatter that to pieces.”

“But you cannot enjoy her society.”

“I am fond of her; and I want to help her back to the old paths in which her feet once were. It is slow work, but she is beginning to hanker after them. Her present life satisfies her less and less. You must not tear me away from her just yet.”

“I feel I want you at once; and I don’t and I can’t approve of your home here.”

“No; and it is difficult to make you understand. But we won’t mar this best hour in my life by talking of disagreeables. Do you know, I am just a wee bit afraid of you? Am I to give up my own individuality and freedom of soul if I link my life to yours? Am I to look-out upon the world only through your eyes, and not through my own?”

“Never!” said the General fervently. “Your individuality is what has drawn me to you. You have always done me good by your wise counsel. I should have lost my child’s affection had I not listened to you. No, Rowena, I want you to be your own true dear fearless self always. But—well, we will not discuss it now. You have made me too happy for words. I feel as if I am beginning life again, as if I have been walking under a forest of dark gloomy impenetrable trees, and have just emerged into glorious sunshine!”

“I believe tea is coming in,” said Rowena demurely. “It’s a pity we still have to eat and drink. Will you stay to tea, General Macdonald?”

The butler was in the room. The General looked as if he wished him farther, but his time alone with Rowena was over. Mrs. Burke returned home, bringing two young men and a girl with her, and General Macdonald promptly took his leave. As his hand touched Rowena’s he said:

“When shall we see you? I won’t send Mysie round now. May I call to-morrow, after I have done my business, and will you come to lunch with us? I will bring an invitation from my old cousin when I come.”

She nodded to him brightly, then turned to help entertain Mrs. Burke’s visitors. But she was rather dreamy and silent, and Mrs. Burke’s quick eyes perceived it.

When they were alone together later she said:

“What has that old fusty friend of yours been saying to you? Something unpleasant about me I don’t doubt.”

“No; indeed he has not. We hardly mentioned you.”

Rowena felt she could not announce her engagement till she had had some quiet time to herself. She was longing to get away into the solitude of her own room, but Mrs. Burke went on talking. If she had no visitors she liked to chat with Rowena over the fire between tea and dinner. She enjoyed talking over all her doings of the day, and making fresh plans for the morrow.

“I shall be quite glad when that man takes his departure. I think I feel jealous of him. I don’t like him hanging round you as he does. Is he going to-morrow?”

“Yes—to-morrow evening.”

Rowena stared into the fire as she spoke. Mrs. Burke looked at her sharply; then went on: