Chapter 7: Compelled to Think

“Unlike Philosophy, the Gospel has an ideal Life to offer.”
Jowett.

IT was some time before Rowena saw either Mysie or her father again. Mrs. Macintosh came over to see her one afternoon, and began speaking about them.

“I am glad to think that Miss Falconer has been such a success,” she said; “and really people begin to think that she may one day change her role from governess to mother. Forgive this gossip. But the laird seems greatly taken with her, and for myself I would like to see him married to some good woman. Every house wants a mistress, especially where there are children. Robert and I went to lunch one day last week; the laird is becoming a bit more sociable, neighbours tell us; but Miss Falconer was there and did the honours of the table very prettily. I wish you and she were a little nearer to one another. I suppose you do not see much of her?”

“No, she is otherwise engaged,” said Rowena.

“She and Robert found plenty to say. Robert loves an argument, and he does not see eye to eye with her on woman suffrage. The laird seemed quite surprised to hear her views, but I thought it was quite touching the apologetic way in which she kept turning to him.”

“‘I know this will shock you,’ she kept saying, ‘but these are the views I was taught at college.’”

“‘Then Mysie shall never go to college,’ said the laird, in that stern tone of his. And Miss Falconer smiled up at him.”

“‘Ah well,’ she said, ‘as we grow older we see the error of our ways. I am not so keen as I was on these questions. The war has altered many things.’ I was glad to hear her speak so. And the laird seemed to watch every word and movement of hers. I should like to hear that they are engaged.”

“You are a regular matchmaker,” laughed Rowena. “I do not think General Macdonald a marrying man. He told me once that matrimony was always a risk, and a little of it went a long way.”

“A very unchivalrous speech to make to a lady,” said Mrs. Macintosh in a tone of disapproval.

Rowena laughed gaily.

“He is not a man who makes pretty speeches,” she said. When her visitor went, she subsided into grave thought. Shags tried to attract her attention, and failed. At last she roused herself.

“My dear young woman,” she apostrophized herself; “at your time of life, you ought to expect anything and everything. They say any woman can marry a man if she sets her heart and will upon it. And if it will mean giving up some of her misguided but cherished principles it will be a very good thing for the fair falcon! As long as her talons are clipped and she is not allowed to hurt my little Mysie, I don’t care. Men must take care of themselves. But Hugh Macdonald is just the man to blunder into another unsatisfactory marriage!”

She said these words aloud, but her eyes had lost their sparkle, and when Granny came to help her into the house she said:

“You look tired out, mem. Are you feeling your back again?”

“I am feeling rotten,” said Rowena with a short laugh; “but don’t for pity’s sake take any notice of me. Life is a very crooked stick, and it’s quite impossible to bend it the way one wants to. So the only thing is to smile at it, and adjust oneself to the crookedness.”

A few days afterwards, Rowena went out in her punt. It was a still grey day, rather sultry and oppressive, and she longed to feel the coolness of the water round her Colin took her out a good way upon the loch, and for a wonder a boat came up to him with Angus in it, and a stranger. Rowena guessed at once it must be the man to whom her brother had let the fishing and shooting. Her first instinct was to let them pass her without a word or sign of recognition; but Angus prevented that.

“An’ hoo are ye this day, mem?” he said, pulling in his oars and beaming upon her with his fatherly smile. “‘Tis Mr. Crawford I will be takin’ to Abertarlie.”

Rowena acknowledged the introduction by a bow.

“You have taken my brother’s shooting,” she said in her clear pleasant voice. “I hope you are enjoying it. You must excuse my getting up. I am quite an invalid at present. I heard the guns going yesterday. Did you have good sport?”

“Splendid!” was the quick enthusiastic reply. “I had thought of calling upon you, Miss Arbuthnot, as I hear you have a wonderful book on the deer forests about here, and I wondered if I might ask for the loan of it. Did we not meet some years ago at Cowes?”

“Yes, at the regatta,” said Rowena. “I thought I had seen you before. You were with the Radcliffe-Murrays. Of course you may have the book; I will send it over to you. Are you staying at ‘The Antlers’ in Abertarlie?”

“Yes, they do one first-rate! I have two cousins with me and a nephew. Don’t trouble to send. I am often past your way, and I will call in for it, if I may.”

“I will look it out and have it ready for you.”

“May I say how sorry I am for your accident? It was out hunting, was it not? I heard about it.”