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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/19742-8.txt b/19742-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c1629ca --- /dev/null +++ b/19742-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,12881 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Heather-Moon, by +C. N. Williamson and A. M. Williamson + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Heather-Moon + +Author: C. N. Williamson and A. M. Williamson + +Release Date: November 9, 2006 [EBook #19742] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HEATHER-MOON *** + + + + +Produced by Alicia Williams, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + The Heather-Moon + + By C. N. & A. M. WILLIAMSON + +Authors of "The Guests of Hercules," "The Princess Virginia." "The Motor +Maid." etc. + +A. L. BURT COMPANY Publishers New York +_Copyright, 1912, by_ C. N. & A. M. Williamson + +_All rights reserved, including that of translation into Foreign +Languages, including the Scandinavian._ + + + + +BOOK I + +THE PRELUDE: AND THE PEOPLE + + + + +I + + +For the first time in her life, Barrie saw the door that led to the +garret stairs standing ajar. It was always, always locked, as is +correct, though irritating, for a door that leads to Fairyland. + +In Barrie's Outer Life that her grandmother knew, and Miss Hepburn knew, +and Mrs. Muir the housekeeper knew, there was--Heaven be praised!--no +romance at all; for romance is an evil thing, still worse, a frivolous +thing, which may be avoided for a well-brought-up girl though +whopping-cough may not; and already this same evil had wrought vast +damage among the MacDonalds of Dhrum. In the Inner Life of Barrie, +however, there was nothing worth thinking about except romance; and the +door of the garret stairs was one of the principal roads to the +forbidden land. + +She stopped in front of it. At first she could not believe her eyes. Her +heart had given a glorious bound, which, only to have felt once in its +full ecstasy, was worth the bother of being born into a family where +there were no mothers or fathers, but only--ah, what an awesome +only!--grim old Grandma MacDonald and Grandma MacDonald's grim old house +where Carlisle ends and moorlands begin. + +It is difficult to be sure of things when your heart is beating nineteen +to the dozen, and the special thing, or mirage of a thing, +seems--judging from all else that has happened in Outer Life--much too +good to be true. Yet there it was, that streak of dull, mote-misted +gold, painting what actually appeared to be a crack between the dark +frame of the door and the dark old door itself--just such gold as Barrie +had seen at least once a day ever since she could remember (except when +mumps and measles kept her in bed) by applying an eye to the keyhole. +"Fairy gold" she had named it. + +The only person who ever went into the garret was Mrs. Muir, and though +she had the air of making no secret of such expeditions, it had always +struck Barrie as deliciously, thrillingly strange that invariably she +turned the key of the stairway door upon herself the instant she was on +the other side, and religiously performed the same ceremony on letting +herself out. "Ceremony" really was the word, because the key was large, +ancient, and important-looking, and squeaked sepulchrally while it +turned. Barrie knew all this, because in spring and autumn, when Mrs. +Muir paid her visits to fairylands forlorn beyond the oak door, Barrie +lurked under cover of the convenient, thick, and well-placed shadow +behind the grandfather clock on the landing. + +It was not autumn now, which was part of the mystery, after these +endless years of routine (they seemed endless to Barrie at eighteen), +and she would certainly have missed the event had this not been her +keyhole hour. + +Somehow she had become aware--through heredity and race memory, no +doubt--that looking through keyholes was caddish, a trick unworthy of +any lady who was at heart a gentleman. But there are exceptions to all +keyholes, and this was one, because, as none save ghosts and fairies +lived or moved behind it in the garret, there was nobody to spy upon. +You looked through to stimulate the romance in your starved soul and +save it from death by inanition, because if romance died, then indeed +the Outer Life at Hillard House would be no longer bearable. + +Barrie paid her respects to the keyhole o' mornings, for two reasons. +The first and commonplace reason was because Mrs. Muir was busy +downstairs and had no eye to spare to see whether other eyes were glued +to the wrong places. The second and more charming reason was because in +the morning the golden haze floated behind the keyhole like shimmering +water with the sun shining deep into it. By afternoon there was nothing +left to peer into but cold gray shadow, which meant that the fairies and +other inhabitants were not at home. + +Mrs. Muir's motive for visiting the garret out of season was a simple +one, but it was well that Barrie did not know this, for it was not at +all interesting, and would have broken the music, thrown cold water on +the thrill. Moths, no respecters of persons or judges of high religious +reputations, had dared to nest in Mrs. MacDonald's best black cashmere +dress, which had not been worn and would not be worn, except on great +occasions, until next season, and had mechanically reduced it to the +rate of second best. Moth-powder and moth-balls were exhausted in +downstairs regions, but there was a store of both in the garret; and in +her annoyance at having to ascend at an unprecedented time, and her +vexation at an accident such as must happen in the best regulated +families, Mrs. Muir had hurriedly returned with the wanted box, +forgetting to lock the door. + +Barrie could not be sure that the housekeeper was not even now in the +garret; but she had to find out: and the awful thrill of uncertainty +made her next step a high adventure, the adventure of her life. It was a +step onto the garret stairs, and though it meant dangers of all sorts, +she risked them every one, and closed the door behind her. You see, if +she had not done this, any person passing along the landing--a person +such as Grandma, or Janet Hepburn--would at once have seen the streak of +gold, a mere yellow crack to them, and then and there would have arisen +a clamour for the key. + +Even with the door closed the risk remained in a lesser degree. Mrs. +Muir, if she were not at this moment in the garret, might suddenly +remember that she had left the door ajar, taking away the key; then she +would rush back like a stout round whirlwind, and in a minute more +Barrie would be a prisoner, almost like the fair bride in "The Mistletoe +Bough," only there was more air in the garret than in the oak chest that +shut with a spring. But Barrie was used to taking risks--risks +insignificant compared with this, yet big enough to supply salt and +sugar for the dry daily bread of existence. + +The door shut softly, but--mercy, what creaks those steps had in them! +They seemed to be vying with each other, the heartless brutes, as to +which could shriek the loudest under a girl's light foot. Probably they +had never seen a girl before, or if they had, it was so long ago they +had forgotten. Fancy Grandma a girl! No wonder, if the steps remembered +her, that they yelled----But by this time Barrie's head had arrived at +the top of the steep stairs, and her eyes were peering cautiously +through clouds of gold dust along the level of a floor, mountainous in +its far horizon with piled chests, trunks, and furniture. + +The gold poured through three very high, small dormer-windows which +until now Barrie had known only from outside, staring up at the ivied +house wall from the east garden. The dust lived in the garret air, and +was different from, more wonderful and mysterious than, any other dust, +except perhaps the dust far off in the distance at sunset, where +motor-cars you could not see passed along a road invisible. + +Barrie couldn't be quite certain at first whether the garret was empty +of human life, or whether Mrs. Muir was likely to pounce upon her with +reproaches from behind one of those immense oak posts which went up like +trees to meet the high beamed roof. Or she might be concealed by an +oasis of furniture. There were several such oases in the large +wilderness of garret, which covered the whole upper story of the old +house. But a lovely garret it was, a heavenly garret! even better than +Barrie had dreamed it might be, with her eye at the keyhole of the +stairway door. It was peopled with possibilities--glorious, echoing, +beckoning possibilities--which made her heart beat as she could not +remember its beating before. + +She climbed the remaining steps regardless of squeaks, because she could +not any longer bear the suspense concerning Mrs. Muir. Nothing moved in +answer to the old wood's complainings, and there was no other sound, or +rather there were no real sounds such as are made by people; but when +Barrie reached the head of the stairs the whole garret was full, to her +ears, of delicate rustlings and whisperings, sighs and footfalls and +breathings, and scurryings out of sight. + +No, Mrs. Muir was not here, or by this time she would be out in the open +and scolding hard. + +Barrie drew in deep breaths of the strange, still atmosphere which was +like air that had been put to sleep years and years ago. It must have +smelt exactly like this, she thought quietly, in the lost palace of La +Belle Dormante when the Prince found his way in through barricading +thickets. Barrie would hardly have been surprised if she had stumbled +upon a Sleeping Beauty. If she had, she would have said to herself, "So +that's the secret Mrs. Muir's been hiding, by keeping the door locked +up. I _told_ you so!" + +The scent of the garret fascinated Barrie, and made her heart beat +heavily, as if she were on the threshold of a mystery. It was made up of +many odours: a faint, not unpleasant mustiness, the smell of dust, a +perfume of old potpourri, and spices, cloves, and camphor for moths, a +vague fragrance of rosewood and worm-eaten oak, a hint of beeswax, a +tang of unaired leather and old books. + +Barrie suddenly felt perfectly happy. For to-day this wonderful place +with all its secrets was hers. She hardly knew what to explore first. +All the really interesting things in the house seemed to have risen to +the top, like cream on milk. Along a part of one wall opposite the +stairs and under the east windows whence came the morning gold were +ranged rough old bookcases, a kind of alms-house for indigent books, or +a prison for condemned volumes. But what books! Barrie was drawn to them +as by many magnets, and almost tremulously taking down one after +another, she understood the reason of their banishment. Here were all +the darling books which used to live down in the library, and had been +exiled because she dipped into them, they being (according to Grandma +and Miss Hepburn) "most unsuitable for nice-minded girls." Barrie had +mourned her friends as dead, but they had been only sleeping. And there +were others, apparently far more unsuitable for nice-minded girls--old +leather-bound books with quaint wood engravings and thick yellow pages +printed with old-fashioned "s's" like "f's." Barrie could have browsed +among this company for hours, but there were so many things to see in +the garret, so little time for seeing them, that she felt compelled +merely to say "How do you do, and good-bye," to each allurement. + +Her eyes, roaming like a pair of crusading knights in search of romance, +lighted suddenly on a pile or group of furniture in a distant corner. +There was other furniture in the garret, certainly more interesting to a +connoisseur and hunter of antiquities; but Barrie was neither. She had +contrived to seize upon a good deal of queer miscellaneous knowledge +outside lesson hours, yet she did not know the difference between +Sheraton and Hepplewhite. Chairs and sideboards and settees of Georgian +days and earlier had been relegated to this vast pound of unwanted +things, while their places were dishonourably filled downstairs by +mid-Victorian monstrosities which Mrs. MacDonald instinctively approved, +no doubt because they could offer no temptation to the eye. Barrie might +have felt the beauty of the graceful lines if she had given her +attention to these scattered relics of a past before there was a +Grandma; but a group of very different furniture beckoned her curiosity. + +The fact that there was a group, and that it seemed in the dimness to be +alike in colour and design, suggested mystery of some sort; and, +besides, it was almost impossible to imagine such furniture adorning +this house. + +Evidently it had been taken bodily out of one room. Why? As she asked +herself this question Barrie threaded her way delicately along narrow +paths between chairs, extraordinary leather or hairy cowhide trunks and +thrilling bandboxes of enormous size, made quaintly beautiful with +Chinese wall-paper. She wanted to examine the grouped furniture whose +pale coverings and gilded wood glimmered attractively even in the +darkest corner of the garret. + +It certainly was the darkest and farthest. Was this a coincidence, or +had there been a special reason for huddling these things out of sight? +There was not even a clear path to them, though there seemed to have +been method in planning most of the lanes that led from one luggage or +furniture village to another. Nothing led to this village built against +a wall. Its site was in a no-thoroughfare, and, perhaps by design, +perhaps by accident, a barricade had been erected before it; not a very +high barricade, but a wall or series of stumbling-blocks made up of +useless litter. If there could be a special corner of disgrace in this +land where all things were under decree of banishment, here was the +corner. + +By means of crawling over, under, and between numerous strangely +assorted objects which formed the barricade, the intruder arrived, +somewhat the worse for wear, at her destination. The furniture village +was composed, she discovered, of a set of blue satin-covered chairs and +sofas, with elaborately carved and gilded frames. There were tables to +match, and an empty glass cabinet, two long mirrors with marble brackets +underneath, also a highly ornamental chest of drawers and a bedstead of +gilded cane and wood, with cupids holding garlands of carved roses. + +Barrie began talking to herself half aloud, according to +long-established habit. "Good gracious me!" she exclaimed so inelegantly +that it was well Miss Hepburn could not hear. "What things to find in +this house! They're like--like canary birds in an ironmonger's shop. Who +could have owned them?" + +Suddenly the answer flashed into her head, and sent the blood to her +face as if she had received a stinging slap such as Grandma used to +give: "These things were my mother's!" + +How insulting that these traces of the vanished one should have been +hustled into a dingy hole where no self-righteous eyes could be offended +by the sight of them! How frivolous and daintily young they looked, even +in their dusty and (Barrie was furiously sure) undeserved disgrace! This +was the secret of the locked garret! + +The girl occasionally had moments of hatred for Grandma: moments when +she thought it would have delighted her to see the grim old Puritan +scoffed at and humiliated, or even tortured. At the picture of torture, +however, Barrie's heart invariably failed, and in fancy she rescued the +victim. But never had she hated Mrs. MacDonald so actively as now. + +"My mother!" she said again. "How dared the wicked old creature be such +a brute to her!" + +For Barrie was certain that these were relics of her mother's presence +in the house. She knew the history of every other woman who had ever +lived here since the place was built in the seventeenth century by an +Alexander Hillard, an ancestor of Grandma's. A forbidding old prig he +must have been, judging from the portrait over the dining-room +mantelpiece, a worthy forbear of Ann Hillard, who had married Barrie's +grandfather, John MacDonald of Dhrum. Barrie often said to herself that +she did not feel related to Grandma. She wanted to be all MacDonald +and--whatever her mother had been. But it was just that which she did +not know, and not a soul would tell. This was her grievance, the great +and ever-burning grievance as well as mystery of her otherwise +commonplace existence; a conspiracy of silence which kept the secret +under lock and key. + +Because of Mrs. MacDonald's "taboo," Barrie's mother had become her +ideal. The girl felt that whatever Grandma disapproved must be beautiful +and lovable; and there had been enough said, as well as enough left +unsaid whenever dumbness could mean condemnation, to prove that the old +woman had detested her daughter-in-law. + +All Barrie knew about the immediate past of her family was that her +father's people had once been rich, and as important as their name +implied. They were the MacDonalds of Dhrum, an island not far from Skye, +but they had lost their money; and while old Mrs. MacDonald was still a +young married woman (it seemed incredible that she could have been +young!) she and her husband, with their one boy, had come to her old +home near Carlisle. This one boy had grown up to marry--Somebody, or, +according to the standards of Grandma, Nobody, a creature beyond the +pale. The bride must have died soon, for even Barrie's elastic memory, +which could recall first steps taken alone and first words spoken +unprompted, had no niche in it for a mother's image, though father's +portrait was almost painfully distinct. It presented a young man very +tall, very thin, very sad, very dark. The frame for this portrait was +the black oak of the library wainscoting, picked out with the faded gold +on backs of books in a uniform binding of brown leather. Once a day +Barrie had been escorted by her nurse to the door of the library and +left to the tender mercies of this sad young man, who raised his eyes +resignedly from reading or writing to emit a "How do you do?" as if she +were a grown-up stranger. After this question and a suitable reply, not +much conversation followed, for neither could think of anything to say. +After an interval of strained politeness, the child was dismissed to +play or lessons--generally lessons, even from the first, for play had +never been considered of importance in Hillard House. It was nobler, in +the estimation of Grandma, and perhaps of father, to learn how to spell +"the fat cat sat on the black rug," rather than to sprawl personally on +the black rug, sporting in company with the fat cat. + +One day, Barrie remembered, she had been told that father was ill and +she could not bid him good morning. She had been treacherously glad, for +father was depressing; but when days passed and she was still kept from +him, it occurred to her that after all father was much, much nicer than +Grandma, and that his eyes, though sad, were kind. The next and last +time she ever saw him, the kind sad eyes were shut, and he was lying in +a queer bed, like a box. He was white as a doll made of porcelain which +he had once given her, and Grandma, who led the child into his room, +said that he was dead. The sleeping figure in the box was only the body, +and the soul had gone to heaven. Heaven, according to Grandma, who wore +black and had red rims round her eyes, was a place high up above the sky +where if you were a sheep you played constantly on a harp and sang +songs. If you were a goat, you did not get there at all, which might +have been preferable, except for the fact that being a goat doomed you +to burn in everlasting fire. Sheep were saved, goats were damned; and, +of course, the sheep must be deserving and clever if they had learned to +sing and play on harps. + +Barrie thought she could have been no more than three when her father +died, but she never cared to question Grandma concerning the episode, +after a day when Mrs. MacDonald said in an icy voice, "Your mother was +before God guilty of your father's death." That was years ago now, but +Barrie had not forgotten the shock, or the hateful, thwarted feeling, +almost like suffocation, when Grandma had answered an outbreak of hers +with the words, "The less you know about your mother the better for you. +And the less like her you grow up, the more chance you will have of +escaping punishment in this world and the next." + +Barrie believed that her mother's hair must have been red, for once she +had heard nurse say to Mrs. Muir, "No wonder the sight of the child's a +daily eyesore to the mistress; what with them identical dimples, and +hair of the selfsame shade, it must be a living reminder of what we'd +all be glad to forget." Barrie's hair was extremely red; and it had been +intimated to her that no red-haired girl could have cause for vanity, +because to such unfortunates beauty was denied; but loyalty to the +unknown mother forbade the child to hate her copper-coloured locks. + +In a room decorated with pale blue satin, red hair might perhaps +simulate gold. The furniture was quite new-looking and unless there had +been some special reason, no mere change of taste would have induced +economical Grandma to make a clean sweep of these practically unused +things. + +A tall mirror with its wooden back turned outward helped to screen the +furniture; and deep under the dusty surface of the glass Barrie saw her +own figure dimly reflected, like a form moving stealthily in water +beneath thin ice. It half frightened her, like seeing a spirit, and she +brought the gliding ghost to life by polishing the glass. This gave her +back suddenly the only friend she had, herself, and she was glad of the +companionship. Close to the huddled furniture stood a large trunk, a +Noah's Ark of a trunk. Perhaps it was old-fashioned, but compared to +other luggage stored here in the garret it was new and defiantly smart. +It had a rounded top, and was made of gray painted wood clamped with +iron. + +Too good to be true that it should not be locked! And yes, locked it +was, of course. But tied to the iron handle on one end was a key. It +seemed as if some one had thought that the trunk might be sent for, and +therefore the key must be kept handy. The knot was easily undone. The +key fitted the lock. Her heart beating fast, Barrie lifted the lid, and +up to her nostrils floated a faint fragrance. She had never smelled any +perfume quite like it before. The nearest thing was the scent of a +certain rose in the garden when its petals were dried, as she dried them +sometimes for a bowl in her own room. + +It was deep twilight in this corner, but Barrie's eyes were accustoming +themselves to the gloom. In the tray of the big trunk there were hats, +and masses of something fluffy and soft, yet crisp like gauze. "My +mother's things!" she said to herself in a very little voice, with a +catch of the breath at the word "mother." And gently she lifted out the +tray, to carry it nearer the light. There was a cartwheel of a Leghorn +hat in it, wreathed with cornflowers; another hat of white tulle trimmed +with a single waterlily, and a queer little bonnet made of +forget-me-nots. The fluffy stuff was a large blue scarf spangled with +pinkish sequins. + +Barrie rested the tray on a marble-topped table, and dipped deep into +the trunk for other treasures. There were several dresses, of delicate +materials and pale shades, or else of daring colours elaborately +trimmed. There was a gown of coral-tinted satin embroidered with gold, +and this was of Empire fashion, so like the styles which Barrie saw in +illustrated papers that it might have been made yesterday. Could a +red-haired woman have chosen to wear such a colour? For a moment the +girl doubted that these had been her mother's possessions; but when she +held the folds of satin under her own chin, she was startled by the +picture in the mirror. Why, coral was far more becoming than blue, which +Miss Hepburn always said was the only colour to go with red hair. It +even occurred to Barrie that she might perhaps be--well, almost pretty. + +"What if I _am_ pretty, after all?" she asked herself; for she +worshipped beauty, and it had been sad to feel that to her it was denied +forever--that never could she be like one of those lovely beings in +books with whom men fall desperately in love, and for whom they gladly +die. + +In great excitement she took off her short, badly made blue serge, and +put on the coral satin, which was low in the neck, and had tiny puffed +sleeves. The dress fastened at the back, but Barrie had grown clever in +"doing up" her own frocks without help, and she easily managed the few +hooks and eyes. The satin was creased, but in the dim light it looked +fresh and beautiful as the petals of some gorgeous flower, and the long, +straight-hanging gown with magic suddenness turned the childlike girl +into a young woman. The two massive tails of hair, which fell over +Barrie's shoulders, ending in thick curls at her waist, now offended her +sense of fitness. They were not "grown up" enough to suit the wearer of +this fairy robe; and crossing the braids at the back of her head, she +brought them round it over her ears, tying the two curls together in a +sort of bow at the top. + +"I'm like Cinderella dressed for the ball," she thought, "all except the +glass slippers," and she glanced down distastefully at the thick, +serviceable boots whose toes pointed out from under a line of gold +embroidery. + +There must once have been shoes to match this dress. Perhaps they were +at the bottom of the big trunk, whose depths she had not yet reached. +Bending down for another search, she caught sight of something in the +background which she had not seen--a large picture with its face against +the wall. + +Instantly Barrie forgot the shoes. Her heart jumped as it had jumped +when she first saw the key in the door of the garret stairs. Would they +have turned to the wall in this dark corner any picture save one? The +girl knew that in another moment she would be looking at the portrait of +her mother. + +To get at it, she had to shut the trunk and climb on the rounded lid, +for the big wooden Noah's Ark was too heavy to lift, and too firmly +wedged in among large pieces of furniture to be pushed out of the way. +Kneeling on the trunk, regardless of her finery, Barrie grasped the +picture frame with both hands and pulled it up from its narrow +hiding-place. Then, scrambling down, she backed out into a space clear +enough to permit of turning the picture, round. Then she could not help +giving a little cry, for it seemed that she was beholding a miracle. Her +own face, her own figure, the very dress she wore, and the odd way she +had looped up her red braids, were repeated on the dusty canvas. + +It seemed too wonderful to be true, yet it was true that she had chosen +to put on the gown in which its owner had long ago stood for her +portrait. And the knotted curls just above the picture-forehead were +like little ruddy leaping flames. + +Just at first glance Barrie thought that she was exactly like the +picture; but when she had wiped the dust off the canvas, and saw the +painting clearly, she began to realize and count the differences. The +portrait was that of a young woman, not a girl still almost a child. +Knowledge and love of the world glittered in the great dark eyes which +turned up ever so slightly at their outer corners in a curiously +bewitching way. Barrie's eyes were dark too, but they were hazel, and +could look gray or even greenish yellow in a bright light; but the eyes +in the picture were almost black, and full of a triumphing consciousness +of their own fascination. The artist had hinted at dimples, and these +Barrie's cheeks repeated; but the girl's face was in shape a delicate +oval, though the chin was as firm as if a loving thumb and finger had +pinched it into prominence. The face on the canvas was fuller, shorter, +squarer, and its chin was cleft in the middle. The mouth was smaller and +more pouting--a self-conscious, petulant mouth; but Barrie thought it +beautiful, with its flowerlike, half-smiling red lips. + +"Mother--mother!" she said, "darling, lovely mother! Oh, if you could +only talk to me! If you could only tell me all about yourself!" + +As she spoke aloud something moved in the garret: a board creaked, a +struck chair or table scraped along the uneven floor, and Mrs. Muir +appeared round a corner of the piled furniture. Barrie stiffened +herself, standing up straight and tall and defiant, ready for battle, +holding the portrait as if it were a shield. But she was not prepared to +see Mrs. Muir start back, stumbling against something which fell with a +sharp crash, nor to hear her give vent to a squeal of terror. It was +anger the girl had expected to rouse, not fear, and she faced the old +housekeeper from her distance in blank astonishment. + +They stood staring at each other across the shadows lit by floating +motes of gold; and Mrs. Muir's large, pallid face looked, Barrie +thought, as if it had been turned to gray stone, the gray stone of the +carved monuments in the family burial-ground. For a moment neither +spoke, but at last some words seemed to drop from the old woman's mouth, +rather than be deliberately uttered: + +"May God have mercy on me!" + +"What _is_ the matter?" Barrie exclaimed, the strange spell broken; but +instead of answering, Mrs. Muir gasped, and then broke out crying, a +queer gurgly sort of crying which frightened the girl. She did not +dislike the housekeeper, and she was so genuinely distressed as well as +surprised at this strange exhibition, that she would have set down the +portrait to run to Mrs. Muir's succour if at that moment the stillness +of the garret had not been wakened by the tap, tap of a stick. Somebody +was coming up the stairs, hobbling, limping, yet hurrying with +extraordinary energy. + +There was only one person in the house, or maybe in the world, whose +coming made that noise, that mingled hobble, rush, and tap: Grandma. + +Barrie and Mrs. Muir continued to stare at one another, but their +expression had changed. The approach of a danger to be shared in common +had made the enemies friends. "This is going to be awful. What shall we +do?" the old eyes said to the young and the young eyes said to the old. +Mrs. Muir had forgotten her burning wish and intention to scold Miss +Barribel; nevertheless, the housekeeper was not to be trusted as an +ally. Under the lash of Mrs. MacDonald's tongue she would defend +herself, and Barrie would go to the wall. But the spirit of the martyr +was in the girl, and when the first dread thrill of the tap, tap on the +garret stairs had subsided in her nerves, she remembered her wrongs and +her mother's wrongs, and was not afraid of Grandma. She girded herself +for war. + +The tapping came nearer. Mrs. MacDonald was grievously crippled with +rheumatism. Only a strong incentive could have urged her up the steep +straight stairway, with its high steps; but Grandma was indomitable. +Lurching like a ship in a heavy sea, she swept round the corner and +brought herself to anchor by planting her stick with a crash on the wavy +oak floor. There she stood, the grim and hard old craft that had +weathered a hundred storms and refused to be dismayed by any. She must +have been alarmed by the housekeeper's scream and the crash of falling +furniture, and the figure in the coral satin dress was at least as +startling for her as for her old servant; but she gave no cry, and her +face looked as it always looked, hard, and stern, and passionless, as +her gray eyes travelled from granddaughter to housekeeper, from +housekeeper to granddaughter. + +"What is the meaning of this?" she inquired in her worst voice, which +Barrie always thought like the turning of a key in an unoiled lock. + +"This, ma'am?" quavered Mrs. Muir, unused to the pangs of guilty fear, +and bitterly ashamed of them. "Why, I'd been up here getting some more +moth-balls out of the chemist's store-box, and while I was gone Miss +Barribel----" + +"You must have left the stairway door unlocked, woman." + +"For the first time in my life, ma'am, I did." The answer was an appeal +for justice if not mercy. It was an awful thing to be called "woman" by +the mistress, and to be impaled on that sharp gray gaze never sheathed +behind spectacles. Mrs. Muir was not one to quail easily, but she had +been at fault, and she realized how her small sin of omission was +leading up to consequences more momentous than anything which had +happened in this house for seventeen years. In a flash she remembered, +too, that it was just seventeen years ago this month of August since the +first wearer of the coral satin had gone forever. + +"That is no excuse," said Mrs. MacDonald. "There are some things it is a +sin to forget. Locking the garret door is one, you well know why. Now +the mischief is done." + +"Who'd ha' dreamed, ma'am, that Miss Barribel would ha' bin on the watch +like a cat for a mouse----" + +"It's no question of dreaming, but experience. You ought to know as well +as I do that unfortunately the girl is always on the watch for anything +she ought not to see or do. It is in her blood. These many years I have +struggled to crush down inherited tendencies, and keep her on the +straight path I would have her father's daughter tread. Yet how have I +succeeded? Every day shows how little. This is only one instance among +many." + +The pale cold eyes, having chilled Mrs. Muir's blood, turned to do their +work of icing Barrie into subjection; but the girl's veins ran fire. For +once, Grandma was powerless to make her feel a frozen worm. + +"I wish I'd known before that my mother's things were here," she said, +in a clear, loud voice. "I'd have broken down the door to get to them. +They're mine--all mine. I will have them." + +"You will not," Mrs. MacDonald answered. "Set that portrait back where +you found it with its face to the wall. Take off that immodest, +outrageous dress, and put on your own decent one. Fold up the scarlet +abomination and lay it in the trunk with the rest of the brood." + +Somehow that word "brood" in connection with her lost mother's gay, +pretty garments made Barrie see her grandmother through a red haze. +"It's the things you say, not mother's lovely clothes, that are exactly +like a brood of horrid, ugly imps!" she cried. "Always you've kept +everything about her a secret from me, but you can't go on doing it now. +I've seen her beautiful picture. I know it's hers without any telling. +Nothing can make me believe it isn't, no matter what you say, either of +you. So you may as well tell me all about her. I won't move till you +do." + +"So be it, then," said Mrs. MacDonald in an iron voice. "The time had to +come some day. Let it be to-day, though for your father's sake I would +have spared you the knowledge until you reached your twenty-first year. +Do not flatter yourself that your threat 'not to move' has the smallest +effect on me. It has none. If I chose, I could force you to obey me this +instant, and put those reminders of sin out of my sight. But if you have +any sense of shame in you, any affection for your father's memory, it +will be the severest punishment I can inflict to tell you the truth +while you are wearing that dress and looking at the face of that +portrait." + +Despite her inward flame of fury, which did not wane, the girl was +struck into silence by her grandmother's tone and manner. She stood very +still and white in the coral satin. + +"You can go now, Muir," said Mrs. MacDonald. "What is to come must be +between me and my son's child." + +Without a word the housekeeper turned and went away. Perhaps she was +glad to escape. And now that her own scolding was over, there was +sympathy in the last look she threw the girl. + +There was a certain vague and very dim sense of gratitude in Barrie's +heart toward Mrs. MacDonald for what she had just done. For Barrie did +not want other ears to hear evil words spoken of her mother, and she was +sure that they would be spoken. + +Not until the stairs had ceased to creak under the departing feet did +Grandma again open her lips. She had seemed to be thinking intently, as +if making up her mind how to begin. Perhaps she was praying for +guidance, Barrie told herself; but the morning and evening prayers in +the dining-room with a few servants assembled were like harangues or +didactic instructions to Heaven rather than supplications. Barrie +thought that her grandmother had created a God for herself in her own +image, and considered that she had a right, therefore, to tell Him what +to do. Why should an all-good, all-wise God create a disagreeable, +unkind person like Grandma? It didn't stand to reason. And Miss Hepburn +was of opinion that God was indeed beneficent, in spite of those eternal +fires in which she, almost equally with Grandma, fervently believed. + +When there was no further sound of the housekeeper, Mrs. MacDonald began +to speak, slowly and very deliberately. + +"My son married against my will. His father was dead, and a woman's +authority was not enough, for he was stubborn, though a good son until +_she_ got hold of him with her witcheries and her false charms. He met +her in London, and took her out of the theatre, where he had no business +to go; and if he never had gone, all our troubles would have been saved. +The woman was a play-actress--a light, frivolous creature with no more +sense of moral responsibility than a butterfly." + +"Butterflies are beautiful!" Barrie broke in. "God made them, I suppose, +just as much as He made ants, and I'm sure He loves them heaps better." +She thought of her grandmother as a big black ant, hoarding disagreeable +crumbs in a gloomy hole. + +Mrs. MacDonald went on as if she had not heard. + +"The woman married my son because he had money, and when she had spent +all she could lay her hands on--spent it on dresses and hats and every +kind of sinful vanity--she left him and his home, left her baby a year +old, to return to the theatre, I suppose. I thank God that I still had +influence with Robert my son to keep him from running after her like a +love-sick fool, and trying to bring her back to the decent home she had +disgraced. But his heart was broken by her wicked folly. Two years +they'd had together under this roof and the disappointments she had made +the boy suffer undermined his health. Two years more he was spared to +me, and then he was taken. Never once did your mother write to him or to +me, not so much as to ask whether her husband and child were alive or +dead. While Robert lived, her things remained in her room just as she +had left them the night she stole away like a thief, carrying only a +handbag. There was the furniture the poor bewitched man had bought +because he thought nothing in his mother's house was fit for his +wonderful bride. There were her clothes--the very dress you have on, +made on purpose to show off her brazen looks in a portrait she induced +my son to order from a painting man. There was everything, except her +jewels, which she was careful to take--jewels more fit for an empress of +a heathen nation than a self-respecting Englishwoman: and that is where +the root of the mischief lay. She wasn't English. I warned my son in the +beginning when he wrote of his infatuation. I said, 'It is bad enough +that she should be a play-actress; but the daughter of an _Irish father_ +and an _American mother_, that is _fatal_!' He would not listen, and he +was punished for his obstinacy. You were no comfort to him, for, as I +pointed out many a time, you were bound to grow up the living image of +the woman who had betrayed us. I told him if he lived he'd have it all +to go over again in you--maybe worse, if that could be possible, for the +sins of the fathers are visited upon the children even to the third and +fourth----" + +"But I thought it was my mother I was like," Barrie flung at her. + +"Figuratively speaking, it is the same thing, as you well understand, +unless you are a fool. Your father was not strong enough to bear the +burden which his own mistakes had bound on his shoulders. He left the +responsibility of bringing up that woman's daughter to me, and under +Heaven I have done my best. I have kept you away from vanities, hoping +that in spite of all you might remain unspotted from the world. But +blood will tell. To-day I find that, as your mother before you stole +like a thief out of the house, so you have stolen into this place, which +was forbidden you, to gratify your curiosity and your vanity. I find you +as bold as brass parading in that low-necked red dress, which I told +your mother was a shame to any woman when I saw her flaunting in it. Now +you know what she was, and what you are and are like to be. I tell you +again, take off that gown as you would tear off a poisoned toad from +your flesh; then go down to your own room and spend the rest of the day +in prayer and meditation." + +It was a triumph for Grandma that Barrie did not throw at her an +insolent answer. For a moment the girl did not reply at all. Then she +said, in a singularly quiet way, that she would take off the dress and +put it back in the trunk, but not unless her grandmother would leave her +alone to do it. Afterward, she would ask nothing better than to go to +her own room and stay there. "I _want_ to think," she added; "I have a +lot to think about. But I shall think only good things of my mother. +What you have told me has made me very, very happy. I believed that my +mother was dead. Now I know she's in the same world with me, I could +almost die of joy." + +"It is like her daughter to feel that," Mrs. MacDonald returned +bitterly. "If you are not downstairs in ten minutes, I will have the +door locked and keep you in the garret without food or drink or light +for twenty-four hours." + +"I should _love_ that!" exclaimed Barrie suddenly, in the manner of her +old self. Nevertheless, she descended and advertised her return to the +prosaic world by closing the door loudly in less than ten minutes after +Mrs. MacDonald had gone. + +She walked straight into her own room and bolted herself in. If Grandma +had seen her then, she could not have helped admitting that there was as +much of Robert MacDonald in the lines of the girl's face as of the +guileful Barbara Ballantree. + + + + +II + + +No notice was taken of Barrie until half-past eight o'clock that +night--half-past eight being considered night in Mrs. MacDonald's +house-hold. At that time, just as the hour was announced by an old +friend, the grandfather clock on the landing, who had seen the girl go +into the garret, Miss Janet Hepburn knocked at Barrie's door. + +"Barribel," she called, as always pronouncing the fanciful name with a +certain reluctance, partly on principle, partly because it was known to +have been chosen by "that woman." "Barribel, by your grandmother's +permission, I've brought you some supper. Open your door and take in the +tray." + +A voice answered from behind the panel, "I'll open the door if you will +bring in the tray yourself." + +Miss Hepburn hesitated for a moment. In the dun gaslight of the corridor +her sharp profile looked eager as the face of a hungry bird. She thought +quickly. Mrs. MacDonald had not yet finished her own supper. No such +frivolity as evening dinner was known at Hillard House. Soup after dark +except for an invalid would have been considered a pitfall; but the old +lady liked to linger alone over the last meal of the day, reading a +religious volume by the light of a lamp placed on the table at the left +of her plate. When Miss Hepburn and Barrie finished they always, as a +matter of form, asked to be excused, though they both knew, and Mrs. +MacDonald knew that they knew, how more than willing she was to be left +alone with her book. At a quarter past nine the servants were called, +they having already supped on bread and cheese. A chapter, preferably +from the Old Testament, was read, a prayer offered up, and at +nine-thirty precisely the family was ready to go to bed. Miss Hepburn +had reason to believe that for three quarters of an hour she was free to +do as she wished, and she wished as ardently as she was able to wish +anything, to see Barrie. She had heard next to nothing of the day's +events from Mrs. MacDonald, whose companion she was supposed to be now +that the girl no longer needed her whole morning's services as +governess. And from Mrs. Muir, into whose room she had slipped at +tea-time, very little had been dragged out. Yet it was certain that +something tremendous had happened. If she wanted to know what, her one +hope lay with Barrie. + +"Very well," she said, with the proper mingling of kindness and dignity, +"I will bring in the tray." + +The door immediately opened, and closed again after the flat figure of +Miss Hepburn. Barrie thought that if the good Janet had been born a fish +she would have been a skate, or at roundest a sole. Even her profile was +flat, as if the two sides of her face had been pressed firmly together +by a strong pair of hands. She wore her hair very flat on her head, +which was flat behind; and just at the nape of the neck was a flat +drab-tinted knot, of almost the same grayish-yellowish brown as her +complexion. On her flat breast was a flat brooch with a braid of pale +hair as a background. Even her voice sounded flat in its effort at +meekness and self-repression, calculated to appease Mrs. MacDonald in +trying circumstances. Miss Hepburn looked about forty-five; but she had +always looked forty-five for the last twelve years, and Barrie could +hardly have believed that she had ever been younger. + +"Your grandmother thinks that you have now been sufficiently punished," +she announced, "and you are to come down as usual to prayers." + +"Oh, am I?" echoed Barrie. "We'll see about that. As for punishment, if +it pleases Grandma to think she's punished me, she may. I don't care. +She couldn't have made me come out of my room to-day if she tried. But I +don't bear _you_ any grudge, Heppie. I'm very glad to see you. I want +you to tell me things." + +"What things?" inquired Miss Hepburn. "I didn't come to talk. I am here +simply to see you begin your supper. You must be--er--very hungry." + +"I've had plenty of food all day," said Barrie--"food for thought." She +cleared a place on the one table by pushing a few school-books out of +the way. She had been sitting in the twilight, for she was not allowed +to have matches. Their possession might have tempted her to burn gas +after ten o'clock, when at latest all lights had to be out. Now, Janet +Hepburn brought a box of matches on the tray; and the gas, when lit, +showed the sparsely furnished room with its gray-painted, pictureless +wall, against which Barrie's red hair glowed like a flame. Outside the +open window the old ivy and the young peeping roses, which had been +green and pink and gold in the twilight, lost their colour as the gas +flared up, and evening out of doors darkened into night. + +"I've brought you bread and cheese with a slice of cold beef," announced +Miss Hepburn, "and Mrs. Muir has baked you a potato, but I am not sure +whether your grandmother would approve of that. She distinctly said a +cold supper." + +"Will you please thank Mrs. Muir for me?" Barrie asked. + +"You can thank her to-morrow." + +"I mayn't have a chance. Do thank her for me to-night. Say I wanted you +to." + +"Why are you in such a hurry?" + +"Oh--just _because_. Will you?" + +"Yes, I will try, after prayers, when she is shutting up the house. Now, +eat your supper." + +"I don't want to, yet. Please, Heppie, dear Heppie, tell me what you +know about my mother. You weren't here when she was, but you're a kind +of cousin of Grandma's, and you must have heard all about her." + +"If I had, that would not give me the right to tell you," replied Miss +Hepburn, clinging desperately to her stiff dignity, despite the pleading +voice and the "dear, dear Heppie," against which, being one third human, +she was not quite proof. It was always difficult not to be beguiled by +Barrie. + +"I've only you I _can_ come to," said the girl. "You're the one person +in the house except me who isn't old and dried-up." + +This was a stroke of genius, but the genius of instinct, for Barrie had +no experience in the art of cajolery. "Was I named after my mother?" + +"Only partly. She was a Miss Ballantree, and her first name was Barbara, +I believe; but she disliked it, and when her husband wished to have the +child christened the same, she insisted on Barribel. It seems that is an +old Scottish name also, or Celtic perhaps, for she was Irish, though I +know nothing of her family. But Barribel has always sounded frivolous to +me." + +"Yet you would never call me Barrie when I begged you to. I wonder if +there ever was another girl who had to make up her own pet name, and +then had nobody who would use it except herself? When I talk to myself I +always say 'Barrie,' in different tones of voice, to hear how it sounds. +I try to say it as if I loved myself, because no one else loves +me--unless maybe you do; just a tiny, tiny bit. Do you, Heppie?" + +"Of course I have an affection for you," Miss Hepburn returned +decorously, half alarmed at so pronounced a betrayal of her inner +emotions, "and naturally your grandmother----" + +"Let's not talk about her now," Barrie pleaded. "Was my mother young +when she was married?" + +"Quite young, I understand--about nineteen." + +"Only nineteen--not very much older than I am. And she stood two years +of Grandma and this house!" + +"Barribel, you forget yourself." + +"If I do, it's because I'm thinking about my mother. Twenty--twenty-one; +that's what she was when she--went away!" + +"She must have been. Of course, it is not my place to----" + +"No, dear Heppie, I know it isn't, so don't, please. Could even you +blame her for wanting to run away from this awful house, and she an +Irish girl?" + +"She was half American, I have heard." + +"Perhaps, for all I know about Americans, that made it even harder for +her to stand Grandma--and everything else. Anyhow, _I_ don't blame +her--not one bit." + +"What! not for deserting her loving husband and her helpless child?" + +"All day I've been wondering if father knew how to show his love for +her. He didn't to me. I can remember that. I used to be afraid of him +and glad to escape. Perhaps he made _her_ feel like that too--oh, +without meaning it. I'm sure he was good. But so is Grandma +good--horribly good. There's something about this house that spoils +goodness, and turns it to a kind of poison. It must have been awfully +depressing to be married to father if one had any _fun_ in one, and +loved to laugh. As for the 'helpless child,' I dare say I was a horrid +little squalling brat with scarlet hair and a crimson face and a vile +temper, that no one could possibly love." + +"It is a mother's duty to love her child, in spite of its appearance; +and if it has a bad temper, all the more should she endeavour by prayer +and example to eradicate its faults in bringing it up. At least, so I +have always been taught. Personally, of course," Heppie hastened to add, +"I know nothing of motherhood and its duties." + +"Then you never played dolls," said Barrie gravely. "I never had but one +doll--the porcelain-headed darling father gave me. Grandma let me keep +it because it came from him, and I did love it dearly! I do still. I +learned just how to be a mother, playing with it. I know I shall be a +perfectly sweet mother when I have a child." + +"Barribel, you should not say such things. It is most unmaidenly." + +"I don't see why," Barrie argued. "Perhaps my mother's people wouldn't +let her say such things when she was a young girl, and then she began to +be an actress, and was so busy she never had time to learn much about +children and duty and that sort of thing. But I won't be unmaidenly any +more, dear Heppie--at least, if I can help it--if you'll only do me one +great favour." + +"What is it?" Miss Hepburn inquired cautiously. + +"Tell me what's become of my mother. Oh, you needn't be afraid! Grandma +let it out that she's alive. She's not even old yet--not so _very_ old. +You must tell me what's happened to her." + +"Nothing creditable, I fear," replied Janet, finding a certain sad +pleasure in the sins of another, so different from her own good self. +"She has, I believe, continued to act on the stage." + +"I'm sure she must be the greatest success!" exclaimed Barrie. + +"As to that, I have no means of knowing. I always skip news of the +theatre in reading the papers aloud to Mrs. MacDonald." + +"Oh, just to _think_ that any day I might have seen things about my +mother in the newspapers, and perhaps even her pictures! I wish I'd +known! I'd have got at the papers somehow before they were cremated. Now +I understand why Grandma tries to keep them out of my hands." + +"There were many reasons for that," said Miss Hepburn, loyal to her +employer's convictions and her own pallid copies of those convictions. +"No really _nice_ girl ever reads the newspapers, or would wish to do +so. They are full of wickedness. There is much I have to miss out." + +"Do you think my mother has kept her married name for the stage?" Barrie +wanted to know. + +"That," answered Miss Hepburn almost eagerly, "has been poor Mrs. +MacDonald's greatest trial--except your father's death. To think that +the name of her son--the name of his great ancestors--should be bandied +about in the theatres!" + +"Then she does call herself MacDonald!" + +"I fear that is the case. But now it will be useless asking me any more +questions, for I shall not answer them. Will you let me see you begin +your supper?" + +"No, dear Heppie, for I'm not hungry; and I want to think. Thank you so +much for talking to me, and being so kind. I believe you'd often like to +be kind when you daren't." + +Miss Hepburn looked slightly surprised. She had expected to be teased +for further information, rather than thanked cordially for that already +doled out. "I try to do my duty both to your grandmother and you," she +returned. "I really must go now, and I shall not have to lock your door +again, as Mrs. MacDonald considers the punishment over. You must be +careful to come down the minute you hear the bell, and not be late for +prayers." + +"Good-bye, if you must go," said Barrie, following the small, stiff +figure to the door. "I--I wish you'd kiss me, Heppie." + +Janet actually started, and a blush produced itself in a way peculiar to +her face, appearing mostly upon the nose, where it lingered rosily at +the end. Kisses were not exchanged under Mrs. MacDonald's roof. Barrie's +was a most disquieting suggestion, and sounded as if she had a +presentiment that she was about to die or, at the best, be very ill. +Still, there was no real impropriety in an ex-governess kissing her late +pupil; and possibly the desire revealed a spirit of repentance and +meekness on the part of Barribel, which deserved to be encouraged. +Without spoken questions, therefore, Miss Hepburn pecked with her +unkissed virgin lips the firm pink satin of Barrie's cheek. The deed +seemed curiously epoch-making, and stirred her oddly. She was ashamed of +the feeling she had, rather like a bird waking up from sleep and +fluttering its wings in her breast. Her nose burned; and she hastened +her departure lest Barribel should notice some undignified difference in +manner or expression. + +"I shall see you again downstairs in a few minutes," she said hurriedly. + +Barrie did not answer, and Miss Hepburn softly shut the door. + +Instantly the girl began making a sandwich of the bread and cheese, +which she wrapped up in a clean handkerchief. She would not take the +napkin, because that belonged to Grandma. Hanging up in the wardrobe was +a long cloak of the MacDonald hunting tartan, which looked as if it had +been fashioned out of a man's plaid. On each side was a pocket; and into +one of these Barrie slipped her little package. Already made up and +lying on the floor of the wardrobe was another parcel, very much bigger, +rolled in dark green baize which might have been a small table cover. +From a shelf Barrie snatched a tam-o'-shanter, also a dark green in +colour. Absent-mindedly she pulled it over her head, and the green +brightened the copper red of her hair. Slipping her arms into the +sleeves of the queer cloak, she caught up her bundle, turned down the +gas, and peeped cautiously out into the corridor. No one was there. The +house was very still. Grandma's bell for reading and prayer would not +ring yet for twenty minutes or more. The girl tiptoed out, locked the +door behind her, and slipped the key into the pocket with the +sandwiches. If any one came to call her to prayers, it would appear that +she had shut herself in and was refusing to answer. + + + + +III + + +"Car-l-i-s-l-e!" The Caruso voice of a gifted railway porter intoned the +word in two swelling syllables, so alluring in their suggestion to +passengers that it was strange the whole train did not empty itself upon +the platform. So far from this being the case, however, not more than +six men and half as many women, one with two sleepy, whimpering +children, obeyed the siren call. + +Five of the men looked for porters, and eventually culled them, like +stiff-stemmed wayside plants; but the sixth man had not set his foot on +the platform before he was accosted by two would-be helpers. + +What there was about him so different from, and so superior to, his +fellow-travellers that it was visible to the naked eye at night, in a +not too brilliantly lighted railway station, could be explained only by +experts in the art of deciding at a glance where the best financial +results are to be obtained. + +The man was not richly dressed, was not decked out with watch-chains and +scarf-pins and rings, nor had he a shape to hint that the possession of +millions had led to self-indulgence. Many people would have passed him +by with a glance, thinking him exactly like other men of decent birth +and life who knew how to wear their clothes; but railway porters and +romantic women (are there other women?) have a special instinct about +men. The two female passengers unhampered by howling babies looked at +him as they went by, and they would instinctively have known, though +even they could not have explained, why the porters unhesitatingly +selected this man as prey. + +He was not very tall, and not very handsome, and he was not conspicuous +in any way: but if he had been an actor, a deaf and blind audience would +somehow have felt with a thrill that he had come upon the stage. The +secret was not intricate: only something of which people talk a dozen +times a day without knowing technically what they mean--personal +magnetism. He was rather dark and rather thin, rather like a conquering +soldier in his simple yet authoritative way of giving orders for what he +wanted done. He had eyes which were of an almost startling blueness in +his sunburned face: a peculiarity that made strangers look twice at him +sometimes. If his features hardened into a certain cynical grimness when +he thought about things that really mattered, his smile for things that +didn't matter was singularly pleasant. + +He did not smile at the porters as he pointed out that, besides his +suit-case, he had only one small piece of luggage in the van, to be +taken to his automobile; and there were other passengers who looked much +jollier and more amenable than he: yet it was to him that a girl spoke +as he was about to walk past her, after his chosen porter. + +"Oh! Will you please be so very kind as to wait a minute!" she +exclaimed. + +Her "Oh!" was like a barrier suddenly thrown down in front of him. Of +course he stopped; and if he were not greatly astonished it was only +because so many odd things had happened to him in life, in railway +stations and drawing rooms and in all sorts of other places, that it +took a great deal to make him feel surprise, and still more to make him +show it. + +He was roused to alertness, however, when he saw what manner of girl +invited him to "wait a minute." He had never seen one like her before. +And yet, of whose face did hers piquantly remind him? He had a dim +impression that it was quite a celebrated face, and no wonder, if it +were like this one. The only odd thing was that he could not remember +whose the first face had been, for such features could never let +themselves be wiped off memory's slate. + +The girl was almost a child, apparently, for her hair hung in two long +bright red braids over her extraordinary cloak; and her big eyes were +child's eyes. What her figure was like, except that she was a tall, +long-legged, upstanding young creature, no one could judge, not even an +anatomist, because of that weird wrap. As a cloak it was a shocking +production--a hideous, unbelievable contribution to cloakhood from the +hands of a mantle-making vandal--but it caught the man's interest, +because before his eyes danced the hunting tartan of the MacDonalds of +Dhrum. Once that particular combination of green, blue, red, brown, +purple, and white had flashed to his heart a signal of warm human love, +daring and high romance; but he believed that long ago his heart had +shut against such deceiving signals. Across the way in, he had printed +in big letters "NO THOROUGHFARE," and was unconsciously well pleased +with himself because he had done this, thinking it a proof of mature +wisdom, keen insight into his brother man--especially perhaps his sister +woman--and a general tendency toward scientific, bomb-proof modernity, +the triumph of intellect over emotion. And in truth his experiences had +been of a kind to change the enthusiastic boy he once had been into the +cynical, hard-headed man he was now. Nevertheless, as he looked at the +girl in the tartan cloak, he heard within himself the war-cry of the +clan MacDonald, "Fraoch Eilean!" and he smelt the heather of the purple +isle of Dhrum. + +It was many years since he had seen that strangely formed island-shape +cut in amethyst against the gold of sunset sky and sea; but the purple +and the gold were unforgettable, even for one who thought he had +forgotten and lost the magic long ago. + +She was a beautiful girl in spite of the ugly tam and the bag of a +cloak. Her eyes had the deep light of clear streams that have never +reflected other things than trees, shadowing banks of wild flowers, and +skies arching above. There was something quaintly arresting about her, +apart from the odd clothes. + +The man stopped. His porter lumbered on sturdily; but that was just as +well. The girl had asked him to wait: so he waited in silence to hear +what she would say. + +"Will you please look at a thing I want very much to sell?" she began. +"Perhaps you'll like to buy it. Nobody else will--but," she added +hastily, "I think you'll admire it." + +He looked her steadily in the eyes for a few seconds, and she returned +the look, in spite of herself rather than because she was determined to +give him gaze for gaze. + +"Why do you ask me to buy what you have to sell?" he answered by a +question. "Is it for charity or the cause of the Suffragettes?" + +"Oh, no, it's not for charity!" the girl exclaimed. "And I don't know +what you mean by Suffragettes." + +The man laughed. "Where have you lived?" he questioned her. + +She blushed for an ignorance which evidently struck strangers as +fantastic. "Near Carlisle with my grandmother," she explained; "but +she's never let me have friends, or make visits, or read the papers. +I've just left her house now, and I want to go to London. I _must_ go to +London, but I haven't any money, and they won't trust me to pay them for +my ticket when I get some. So I tried to sell a piece of jewellery I +have, and nobody would buy it. I thought when I saw you come out of the +train that maybe _you_ would. I don't know why--but you're different. +You look as if you'd know all about valuable things--and whether they're +real; and as if you'd be--not stupid, or like these other people." + +"Thank you," he returned, and smiled his pleasant smile. If another man +had described such a meeting with a pretty and apparently ingenuous girl +in a railway station at ten o'clock at night, he would still have +smiled, but not the same smile. He would have been sure that the girl +was a minx, and the man a fool. He recognized this unreasonableness in +himself; nevertheless, he had no doubt that his own instinct about the +girl was right. She was genuine of her sort, whatever her strange sort +might be; and though he laughed at himself for the impulse, he could not +help wanting to do something for her, in an elder-brother way. For an +instant his thoughts went to the woman who was waiting for and expecting +him, the train being late. But quickly the curtain was drawn before her +portrait in his mind. + +"You say your grandmother never let you make friends," he said, "yet you +seem to believe in your own knowledge of human nature." + +"Because, what you aren't allowed to see or do, you think of a great +deal more. Knowledge _jumps_ into your head in such an interesting way," +the girl answered, with an apologetic air, as a witness might if wishing +to conciliate a cross-questioning counsel. "Here's the jewellery I want +to sell. It was my father's, and belonged to his father and +grandfather." + +She opened her ungloved right hand to reveal a bonnet brooch of +beautiful and very ancient workmanship showing the crest of the +MacDonalds of Dhrum set with a fine cairngorm and some exquisite old +paste. It must have come down through many fathers to many sons, for it +was at least two hundred years old. + +"You would sell this?" the man exclaimed. + +"Well, I _must_ get to London," she excused herself, "and it's the only +thing I have worth selling. I _knew_ you'd see it was good. The others +would hardly look at it, except one quite horrid man who squeezed my +hand when I was showing him the brooch, and that made me behave so +rudely to him he went away at once." + +"Was your father a MacDonald of Dhrum?" asked the man who had not +squeezed her hand, and exhibited no wish to do so, though his eyes never +left her face. + +"Yes. Why, do you know our tartan and crest?" + +"I--thought I recognized them." For an instant he was tempted to add an +item of information concerning himself, but he beat down the impulse. +"If you want money, you can raise something on this without selling it," +he went on. "It would be a pity to part with an heirloom." + +"I didn't know I could do that," said the girl. "Of course it would be +better. I'm going to London to find somebody--my mother," she continued, +in a different tone. "When I get to her, she'll give me money, of +course, and I can pay you back, if you'll lend me enough now to buy my +ticket--and perhaps a little, a very little, more, because I mayn't find +her at once. I may have to go on somewhere else after London, though I +hope not. _Will_ you lend me some money and keep the brooch till I pay?" + +"I might be prepared to do that," said the man slowly. "But you surely +don't mean to start off for London alone, in the night." + +"Why not?" she argued. "There's no danger in railway trains, is there? +I've never been in one yet, but I've read lots about them in books, and +I think I shall love travelling." + +"You've never been in a train!" + +"No, because I was born at Grandma's house, and she never travels +anywhere, and I've always lived with her. If my father hadn't died, and +my mother hadn't--hadn't been obliged to go away when I was a baby, +probably I should have been just like other girls. But now I suppose I +must be very different, and seem stupid and queer. Every one stared as +if I were a wild animal when I was asking my way to the railway station. +But you will lend me the money, won't you, if you think the brooch is +worth it, because one of the porters told me there'd be a train for +London soon?" + +"When people are making up their minds to lend money to strangers, they +always put a number of questions first," answered the man gravely, "so I +must ask you to excuse me if I catechize you a little before I engage +myself to do anything. Do you expect any one to meet you in London, Miss +MacDonald?" + +"Dear me, no!" and she could not help laughing to hear herself called +"Miss MacDonald," a dignity never bestowed on her before. "I don't know +any one in London--unless my mother's there." + +"Oh, indeed! But London's quite a big place, bigger a good deal than +Carlisle, you know, so you may have some difficulty in finding your +mother if you aren't sure of the address." + +"She hasn't an address--I mean, I don't know it. But she's an actress on +the stage. I think she must be so beautiful and splendid that almost +every one will have heard of her, so all I will have to say is, 'Please +tell me whether Mrs. MacDonald the actress is in London?'" + +"Not Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald!" This time he did look surprised. + +"Ballantree was her name before she was married," the girl admitted. +"And her Christian name's Barbara. Do you know her?" + +"I do, slightly," replied the man. "But I had no idea that she----" He +broke off abruptly, looking more closely than ever at the vivid face +under the knitted tam. + +"I suppose, if you don't know her very well, she never spoke to you +about having a daughter?" Barrie asked. + +"No, she never spoke of it. But look here, Miss MacDonald, as I happen +to be an acquaintance--I daren't call myself a friend--of your mother's, +you'd better let me advise you a little, without thinking that I'm +taking a liberty. From what you say, I have the idea that you've not had +time to write Mrs. Bal--I mean, Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald that you're +coming to pay her a visit." + +"No, I only made up my mind to-day," said Barrie carefully. "Grandma and +she aren't good friends, so my mother and I--don't write to each other. +Grandma doesn't like the stage, and as you know mother, I don't mind +telling you she's been perfectly horrid--Grandma, I mean. She let me +believe that mother was dead--just because she's an actress, which I +think must be splendid. That's why I'm running away, and wild horses +couldn't drag me back." + +"I see. Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald will be taken by surprise when you +turn up." + +"Yes. It will be like things I've dreamed about and invented to make +into story-books--really interesting story-books such as Grandma +wouldn't let me read, for she approves only of Hannah More. Won't mother +be delighted?" + +"Just at first her surprise may overcome her natural joy," said the man. +"And here is where my advice comes in. It's this: Let the news be broken +to your mother before you try to see her. That would be the wisest +thing. Besides, she mayn't be in London now--probably isn't. It's past +the season there; and Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald is one of those +beautiful and successful people, you know, who are generally found at +places in the most fashionable time of the year. If she's acting, it +will be easy to find out where she is from one of the stage papers. She +could be written to, and----" + +"No, I _want_ to surprise her!" Barrie persisted. "I want first to see +her, for I know she must be a darling and perfectly lovely; and then I +want to say, 'Mother, here's your daughter Barribel, that you named +yourself, come to love you and live with you always.'" + +"Er--yes. It sounds charming," replied the man, gazing at a large +advertisement of a new food with quite an odd look in his eyes. "If your +heart's set on that scene I've no right to try and dissuade you; but +anyhow, the thing to do is to find out where she is before you start, +for you might get to London only to have to turn round and come back. In +August she's more likely to be in Scotland than in London." + +"Oh, is she?" Barrie's face told all her doubt and disappointment. "But +I can't wait. I must go somewhere. If I don't take a train, Mrs. Muir +our housekeeper and perhaps Miss Hepburn may come here looking for me +from Hillard House. I'm afraid they found out at prayer-time that I'd +gone, and when they've searched all over the house and garden, they----" + +"So you make no bones about running away from home, Miss MacDonald?" + +"Neither would you in my place if you and your mother were insulted." + +"Perhaps not," the man admitted. "I did something more or less of the +sort when I was a year or two older than you--about seventeen----" + +"But I'm over seventeen already," Barrie hastened to boast. "I'm +eighteen." + +The man smiled at her, his nicest smile. "Eighteen! That's very old, and +it's only living the retired life you have that's kept you young. Still, +there it is! You _have_ lived a retired life, and it's--er--it's left +its mark on you. It will take at least some months to efface it, even +under your mother's wing. That means you're a bit handicapped among a +lot of people who haven't lived retired lives. I don't advise you to go +back to your grandmother's house, because you wouldn't anyhow--and +besides, you know your own business better than I do; only, of course, +you'll have to write to her. As an acquaintance of your mother's, I'd +like to put you with some kind people for to-night until we can find out +for you just where Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald is. Don't you see that this +would be a sensible arrangement, if the people were all right, instead +of starting off on a wild-goose chase?" + +"Ye-es, perhaps. And it's very kind of you to take an interest for my +mother's sake," said Barrie, trying not to show her disappointment +ungraciously. + +"Of course, for your mother's sake," he repeated, with an expressionless +expression. "I call myself Somerled," he added, watching her face as he +made his announcement. + +She caught him up quickly. "Why, that was the name of the great leader +from the North who founded the Clan MacDonald!" + +"You know about him, do you--in spite of the retired life?" + +"Not to know would disgrace a MacDonald. And just because I _have_ led a +retired life I've had more time to learn than girls in the world. I know +a good deal--really I do. I've read--heaps of things, behind Grandma's +back. Somerled of the Isles is a hero of mine. I didn't know any one had +a right to his name nowadays." + +"I dare to bear it, like a Standard, with or without right, though +unworthily. Somerled of the Isles was my hero too." + +"Then you're Scottish, like me," said Barrie. "I don't feel related to +Grandma's people, and I don't know anything about mother's. But if +you're going to be my friend for her sake, I'm glad your name is +Somerled. It's splendid!" + +"Yes, it's splendid to be called Somerled," the man agreed, faintly +emphasizing the substituted word. "And I'm proud to be a Scot, though +I've lived half my life in America, and they think of me there as an +American. I've been thinking of myself that way too for seventeen years. +But blood's a good deal thicker than water, and I was born on the island +of Dhrum." + +"Our island!" exclaimed Barrie. "That makes it seem as if we were +related." + +"I hoped it would, because a Somerled has a right to the trust of a +MacDonald. Will you trust me to motor you to my friend Mrs. West, who's +stopping just now with her brother in a nice little house just outside +Carlisle? It's named Moorhill Farm, and belongs to a Mrs. Keeling, who +has lent it to Mrs. West. I'm going there, and they'll be glad to keep +you until we can learn where you ought to meet your mother. Perhaps you +know of Mrs. Keeling and her house?" + +Barrie glanced at him half longingly, half doubtfully. She had been +looking forward to the adventure of travelling to London; but if there +were less chance of her mother being there than elsewhere, London was +wiped off the map. Still Barrie was loth to abandon her plan. To do so +was like admitting failure--in spite of the motor, which she would love +to try. She had never been within two yards of a motor-car. + +"I've seen Mrs. Keeling in church," she said. "She has stick-out teeth. +Grandma bows to her. But how can you tell that Mrs. West will be glad to +have me?" + +"I'll answer for her hospitality," came Somerled's assurance. "You'll +like Mrs. West. She's a widow, and a sweet woman. Her brother's as nice +as she is--Basil Norman. Perhaps you've heard of them? They write books +together--stories about travel and love and motor-cars." + +"No," Barrie confessed. "I don't know any authors later than Dickens, +unless I see their names in book-sellers' windows, when I come into town +with Heppie--Miss Hepburn. If you don't mind, I think I'd rather not go +to Mrs. West's. I'm afraid of strangers." + +"Are you afraid of me, then?" + +"No-o. But you're a man. I'm afraid of women. They stare at your +clothes, and I know mine are horrid." + +"Mrs. West won't stare. She'll help you buy pretty things to wear when +you go to your mother." + +"Will she? But how shall I buy them? I haven't any money." + +"You'll have money from your father's brooch. Now--will you trust me and +come to Mrs. Keeling's house, as your grandmother bows to her?" + +"I'd rather go to a hotel, thank you." + +"Nonsense. You can't go alone to a hotel." + +"Why?" + +"It wouldn't be proper for Miss MacDonald of Dhrum." + +"Now you talk like Grandma!" + +"I talk common sense. I'll lend you no money to spend in a hotel." + +"Then take me to Mrs. West," the girl said, as she might have said, +"Take me to the scaffold." + +Somerled laughed with amusement and triumph. He was astonishingly +interested in his adventure, astonishingly pleased at the prospect of +continuing it. Surely this girl was unique! He believed in comparatively +few things, but he believed in her: for not to do so would have been +indeed ungrateful, as she was ready to prove her implicit belief in him. + +"A daughter of Mrs. Bal!" he said to himself as he led Mrs. Bal's +daughter to his motor-car. + +Poor Barrie would have believed in almost any man who owned a motor. + + + + +IV + + +Aline West and her brother, Basil Norman, were walking slowly up and +down the garden path in front of the old-fashioned manor farmhouse lent +to them for ten days by an admiring friend. They were waiting for +Somerled, who had expressed a desire not to be met at the station; and +listening for the teuf-teuf of motors along the distant road prevented +Mrs. West from attending to her brother's suggestions. He had had an +inspiration for the new novel they were planning together, and was +explaining it eagerly, for Basil was a born story-teller. Only, he had +never found time for story-telling until lately. He was tremendously +happy in his new way of life, although only a terrible illness which had +closed others paths of success had opened this door for him. It did not +matter in the least that Aline got the credit. Not only was he glad that +she should have praise, but he was convinced that it ought to be hers. +If she had not thought of asking him to try his hand at helping her four +years ago, when the incentive to live seemed gone, he might have been +driven to put himself out of the way. It was to her, therefore, that he +owed everything; and though success as an author had never come to Aline +until after the first book they wrote together, that, to Basil Norman's +mind, was no more than a coincidence, and he had never ceased to feel +that she was generous in letting his name appear with hers on their +title pages. + +"I wonder if anything can have happened to him!" Aline murmured. + +"Which, Dick or Claud?" her brother asked, puzzled. Dick was to be their +hero, Claud the villain. Basil had been engaged in outlining the two +characters for his sister's approval. + +"No. Ian Somerled," she explained almost crossly, though her voice was +sweet, because it was never otherwise than sweet. "Either the train's +late or----" + +"I'd have met him with pleasure," Basil reminded her. + +"It would be _fatal_ to do anything he didn't wish," she answered. "He's +a man who knows exactly what he wants, and hates to have people go +against his directions in the smallest things." + +Norman looked at her rather anxiously through the soft summer darkness +that was hardly darkness. She was walking beside him with her hands +clasped behind her back and her head bent. He thought her extremely +pretty, and wondered if Somerled thought so too. But he wished that she +did not care quite so much what Somerled thought. And he was not sure +whether she were right about what Somerled liked. + +"I wonder if we understand Somerled?" he asked, as if he were +questioning himself aloud. "After all, we don't know him very well." + +"I do," Aline said. "I know him like a book. He's bored to death with +everything nearly. Only I--we--haven't bored him yet. And we must take +care not to." + +"You could never bore anybody," Basil assured her loyally. "But--I wish +you'd tell me something honestly, old girl." + +"Not if you call me that!" She laughed a little. "It wouldn't matter if +I were twenty-five instead of--never mind! I don't want people to think, +when they hear you, 'Many a true word spoken in jest.'" + +"Somerled's older than you are, anyhow," Basil consoled her. + +"I should think so--ages! Don't forget, dear, I'm only just thirty. I +don't look more, do I--truly?" + +"Not a day over twenty-eight." + +She was disappointed that he did not say less. She had been twenty-nine +for years, and had just begun, for a change, to state frankly that she +was thirty. She had never been able to forgive Basil for being younger +than she, but she could trust him not to advertise his advantage. He +really was a dear! She hated herself for being jealous of him sometimes. +There were things he could do, there were thoughts that came to him as +easily as homing birds, which were with her only a pretence: but she +pretended eagerly, sincerely, even with prayer. She really yearned to be +at heart all that she tried to make Somerled and other people believe +her to be. And if she tried hard to be genuine all through, surely in +time---- + +"What I want you to tell me is," Basil was going on, "are you in l--how +much do you really care about this man?" + +"'This man?'" she repeated. "How serious that sounds; like 'Do you take +this man for better, for worse?' Well, I confess that I _should_, if he +asked me." + +"Then you must be in love," her brother concluded. "Because you don't +need his money. We make as many thousands as we used to make hundreds; +and it's all yours, really, or ought to be." + +She was ashamed of not contradicting him, yet she did not contradict. +She could not bear to put in words what in her heart she knew to be the +truth: that their success was due to Basil, the dreamer of dreams; that +her little smartnesses and pretty trivialities could never have carried +them to the place where they now stood together. The worst part of her +wanted Basil to think, wanted every one to think, that she was the +important partner, that she was actually _all_ in the partnership. And +it was too miserably easy to produce this impression. Basil was so +unassuming, thought so poorly of himself, realized so little how she +leaned upon him in their work, admired her so loyally! + +"Ian Somerled is more of a man than any other man I ever met," she said. +"I like him for his strength and for his indifference. Everything about +him appeals to me--even his money; for making it in the way he did was +one expression of his power. Just because they say he'll never marry, I +want----" + +"I can understand how a woman may feel about him," Basil said gently, +when she suddenly broke off. + +"I thought I was perfectly happy the day he asked us to tour Scotland +with him in his car; and when he promised to spend a few days with us +here, after he'd got through his business in London," Aline went on, "it +was like _honey_ to hear him say that he didn't want to come if any one +else was to be here. He'd enjoy it only with you and me alone. But ever +since I saw him I've been worrying until I'm quite wretched." + +"Worrying about what?" + +"Whether he _suspects_ anything." + +"Why, what is there to suspect?" + +"Then _you_ don't? I'm glad, for you're both men. If you don't suspect, +why should he?" + +"You'll have to tell me what you're driving at. I shan't have an easy +minute till you do--and that means I can't write. You know I won't give +you away." + +"A woman wouldn't need telling. That's why I like men! You never +guessed, then, that I've been doing it all? I was the power behind the +throne. I made him invite us, and----" + +"The deuce you did! Why, I heard him ask you. It was on board ship, +and----" + +"And before he asked, unless you were deaf, you heard me say I couldn't +work up any enthusiasm about the next book we'd promised our publisher +to write because we'd sold our last car and hadn't time to make up our +minds about a new one, and we had no friends to give us good 'tips' +about the country. It was then he asked me what country we wanted to +write about, and I said Scotland." + +"Well, yes, I suppose I heard you say all that, now you remind me of it. +But it wasn't hinting, because you didn't know he was going to Scotland +for his rest cure." + +"Oh, yes, I did. I read it in the New York _Sun_ before we sailed. And +when I said we'd accept his invitation if he'd accept ours, Mrs. Keeling +hadn't offered me this house." + +"You said she had." + +"I was sure she would, because she told me I had only to ask. She was +dying to lend it. She wanted to be able to tell everybody that Aline +West and Basil Norman lived in her house for a fortnight in August. It's +a great feather in her cap; and Ian Somerled coming to visit us here is +something she'll _never_ get over as long as she lives. I marconied her +an hour after he'd said that he would come to us after London, and we'd +begin our motor tour from Carlisle. 'Twas only taking Time by the +forelock to tell him we _had_ been invited. It _was_ bad luck poor Mrs. +Keeling being ill when she got my wire, and she really was a trump to +turn out and go to a nursing home." + +"Good heavens, is that what she did? I didn't know----" + +"Of course not. But you needn't mind so dreadfully. She's _much_ more +comfortable in the nursing home with the best attention than in her own. +And, as a reward, we'll dedicate the book to her." + +Aline said this as a queen might have suggested lending her crown to a +loyal servitor. Basil laughed, rather uncomfortably, and his sister +looked up hastily into his face, to see if he were making fun of her. +Just then they were drawing near the open windows of the drawing-room, +and the lamplight shone out so brightly through the old-fashioned +embroidered lace curtains that she could see his profile. Hers too was +clearly outlined as she lifted her chin anxiously. + +The brother and sister were both good to look at, in ways so different +that the two made a striking contrast. Aline knew that in appearance +they were a romantic pair of travelling companions. Every one stared at +them when they were together, for he was very tall and dark, more like +an Italian or a Spaniard than an Englishman, and she was gracefully +slender and fair, dressing with a subtle appreciation of herself and all +her points. Aline West's and Basil Norman's photographs, taken together +or apart, for newspapers and magazines, were extremely effective, and +were considered by publishers to help the sale of their books. Norman +might have sat for Titian's Portrait of a Gentleman: and there were +those who thought Mrs. West not unlike Lady Hamilton. Since the first +expression of this opinion in print, she had changed the fashion of her +hair, and at fancy-dress balls, of which she was fond, she generally +appeared as the beautiful Emma. Certainly the cast of her features and +the cutting of her lips faintly recalled those of Romney's ideal; but +Mrs. West's pretty pale face had only two expressions: the one when she +smiled--always the same delicate curving of the lips which lit no beam +in the deep-set forget-me-not eyes; the one when she was grave and +wistfully intellectual. She had a beautiful round white throat which she +never hid with a high collar. Her hair was of that sun-in-a-mist gold +that eventually fades almost imperceptibly into gray--if left to itself. +But in Aline's case it was improbable that it would be left to itself. +Every morning when dressing she examined it anxiously, even fearfully, +to see whether it was becoming thinner or losing its misty glints of +gold. Yet she knew that her fears were likely to advance the day she +dreaded, and tried to shut them out of her mind. + +"Why do you laugh?" she inquired almost irritably, for she was secretly +afraid always of missing something that was seen by others to be +amusing. She talked constantly of a sense of humour, pitying those not +blessed with it, but there were moments when she wondered bleakly if she +had it herself. "Have I said anything funny?" + +"Only you seem so sure that the dedication will be a panacea for every +wound." + +"So it will be for Mrs. Keeling." + +"I thought you had the idea of dedicating it to Somerled, as he'll be +taking us through Scotland in his car." + +"I had. But I feel now it would be a mistake. He couldn't refuse, and +one wouldn't be sure he was pleased. He's so horribly important, you +know. I don't mean in his own eyes, but in the eyes of the world; so +nothing we could do for him would really confer an honour. And the +reason he's cynical and bored is because people have fussed over him so +sickeningly, more and more every year, since he began to rise to what he +is." + +"Yet I don't think he's conceited." + +"Not in the ordinary way. But he can't help knowing that he's some one +in particular. He began to like us because we didn't fuss over him, or +seem to go out of our way to please him. That's where I've been clever; +for oh, Basil, I'd do anything short of disfiguring myself to win him." + +"My poor girl!" Norman exclaimed. + +She caught him up hastily. "Why do you call me 'poor?' Do you think I +shan't succeed? Do you think he'll never care?" + +"You're a far better judge than I am," her brother answered evasively. +"Women feel such things. We----" + +"You feel things, too. You know you do, Basil." + +"In an abstract way--not when they're just in front of my eyes." + +"He has told me a lot about himself, anyhow." Aline took up a new line +of argument, out of her own thoughts. "That's a good sign. He is so +reserved with almost everybody--and he was even with me till our last +evening on shipboard. I was telling him about Jim dying in India and +leaving me alone there, almost a girl; and how there was no money; and +how I took up writing and made a success. Then from that we drifted into +talk about success in general; and he told me his whole story--much more +than I'd ever heard from gossip, and a good deal of it quite different. +I took it as the greatest compliment that he should open his heart to +me--and a splendid sign." + +"Yes, I suppose it was both," Norman agreed; and Aline had retired too +far within the rose-bower of happy memories to catch a suggestion of +doubt in his voice. + +"I read once in a newspaper that he'd been a bootblack in Glasgow before +he emigrated," Mrs. West said, as they turned away from the house again +in their walk, and set their faces toward the distant gate. "It wasn't +true. His father was a crofter on a little island somewhere near Skye. I +think it's called Dhrum. I never heard of it before; and he had to +excuse my ignorance, because I'm Canadian! It seems that a branch of the +MacDonald family own the whole place and are great people there--lords +of the isle. His name was MacDonald too, though his family were only +peasants--clan connections, or whatever they call that sort of thing. I +don't understand a bit, and I didn't like asking him to explain. It was +too delicate a subject, though he appeared to be rather proud of his +origin. Scotch peasants are apparently quite different from other +peasants. You'll have to study up the differences and make lots of notes +for the book. I'm no good at anything with dialect, or character sort of +parts. You wouldn't think now, though, that Ian Somerled had ever been a +peasant would you? He talked a lot about his father and +mother--evidently he adored them. He said they'd be miracles anywhere +out of Scotland, but there were many like them there. According to him +there was nothing they hadn't read or couldn't quote by the yard, from +Burns and Scott back to Shakespeare. That was the way he was brought up, +and instead of wanting him to go on crofting like themselves, they were +enchanted because he drew pictures on their unpainted doors and their +whitewashed walls. They saved all their pennies to have him educated as +an artist, and encouraged him--quite different from peasant parents in +books. One day the 'meenister' called, and saw the boy's pictures. He +thought them something out of the ordinary--pictures of castles and +cathedrals they were, with people going in and coming out, and portraits +of friends, and historical characters. After that he took a great +interest in Ian, and taught him Latin and the few other things his +wonderful parents didn't happen to know. When Ian was about thirteen or +fourteen, the 'meenister' tried to get help for the little MacDonald +from the great MacDonald, a disagreeable, cranky old man with one +daughter. They thought they owned the whole world instead of one tiny +island, and the man wouldn't do anything for the child. He simply poured +contempt on 'clan ties.'" + +"That doesn't sound like the great folk of Scotland," said Basil, who +for weeks had been reading little else but Scottish history, Scottish +fiction, and Scottish poetry, in order to get himself in the right frame +of mind for writing "the book." "I haven't come across a single instance +of their being purse-proud or snobbish." + +"These weren't purse-proud, because their purses had nothing in them to +be proud of," Aline explained. "Their branch of the MacDonalds had lost +its money and its love of Scotland. Old Duncan MacDonald was the uncle +of the last lord of Dhrum, who had to go away from his island for good +and let his castle to 'aliens'--English people. When the nephew died +later, Duncan inherited, but never lived at Dhrum. He only came there +once in a while to visit the tenants who'd hired the castle from him, if +they happened to be people he knew, and would 'do' him well. He and his +daughter were mostly in London, where they had a flat, and prided +themselves on knowing no Gaelic. They took pains to show that they +considered the crofter's son a common brat, and resented the +meenister's' expecting them to do anything for his future, just because +his name happened to be MacDonald, and he lived in a hut on a remote +point of their island. Ian didn't lose courage, though; and soon after +the great snub he contrived to work his way somehow to Edinburgh. He +wouldn't take the money his father and mother had saved up for him, +because they were old and had been ill, and needed it themselves. But he +did all kinds of queer jobs, and at last walked into the studio of a +celebrated artist, saying he wanted to pay for some lessons. At first +the man only laughed, but when he saw Ian's drawings, he was interested +at once. He gave him lessons for nothing, and boasted of his protégé to +other artists. It seems that a talent for both portraiture and +architecture is very rare. When Ian was sixteen he won a big prize for +the design of an important building which a lot of prominent architects +had been trying for. Presently it came out that he was only a boy, a boy +who could do wonderful portraits, too, and everybody began taking notice +of him and writing enthusiastic praise in the papers. Some interviewer +falsely reported that he'd called himself a cousin of the MacDonald of +Dhrum, and disagreeable Duncan denied the relationship indignantly. He +spoke to some one of Ian's father, who had just then died, as 'an +ignorant old hay-cutter,' and the speech was repeated far and wide. You +can imagine Ian Somerled forgetting an insult to his adored father! He +dropped the name of MacDonald from that day, calling himself Somerled; +and as he was all alone in the world--his mother was dead, too, and had +never seen his success--he resolved to make a reputation in another +country. Of course that was very _young_ of him. He sees that now. He +crossed to New York in the steerage, and vowed he'd never set foot in +Scotland again, or take back his name of MacDonald, until old Duncan not +only openly claimed him as a cousin, but begged him as a personal favour +to return to Scotland." + +"That must have seemed like sentencing himself to perpetual banishment," +said Basil. + +"I don't know. He appears to have had a kind of prophetic faith in his +own powers of success. And he was right in every way. Duncan began to +_grovel_ years ago." + +In talking of Somerled, Aline had forgotten to listen for sounds of his +approach. She was interested in the story she was telling--more +interested than she was usually in the development of her own plots. But +luckily Basil saw to the plot-making nowadays, and she hadn't to worry. +"It's funny," she went on, "that a man who laughs at romance should be +one of the most romantic figures in the world. If you and I wrote up his +story, and took him for the hero, all the critics would say 'how +impossible!' But critics will never believe that anything highly +romantic or sensational can happen really. I don't know _what_ their own +lives must be like--or what they can think of the incidents they must +see every day in the newspapers! Somerled says the only romantic thing +he ever did was to annex the name of Somerled: but almost every phase of +his life would make a story. Take his success in America, for instance. +He wasn't eighteen when he landed as an immigrant, with nothing in his +pocket except what was left of the architectural prize. Most of that +money had gone in giving his father a few last comforts, and putting up +some wonderful, extravagant sort of monuments for both his parents, +which Ian designed himself. But he hadn't been two months in New York +when he won a still bigger prize, which came just as he was on the point +of starving! A handful of oatmeal and an apple a day _I_ should call +starvation, but he says it was grand for his health. In six years, at +twenty-four, he was not only the greatest portrait-painter in America, +but one of the most successful architects, an extraordinary combination +which has made him _unique_ in modern times. And before he was +twenty-eight came that big 'coup' of his, which he calls a 'mere +accident that might have happened to any fool'--the buying of a site for +a new town in Nevada, where he meant to build up a little city of +beautiful houses, and finding a silver mine. Of course, it _wasn't_ an +'accident.' It was the spirit of prophecy in him which has always +carried him on to success--that, and his grit and daring and enterprise +and general cleverness. Oh, Basil, if you could have heard him telling +me these things that last night on the _Olympic_--leaning back in his +deck-chair, smoking cigarette after cigarette (I was smoking too. I hate +it; but I think he likes a woman to smoke and be a man's pal), the +moonlight shining on his face, showing his eyes half shut, and talking +in his quietest way, as if he were dreaming it all over again, or +speaking to himself! I hardly breathed, till he broke off suddenly and +laughed in quite a shy sort of way, ashamed of being 'egotistical,' +though he hadn't praised himself at all. The flowery things I've said +are mine. He even apologized! I felt I'd never had so great a compliment +in my life. It seemed too good to be true that such a man should have +opened his heart to me. But when his invitation for Scotland came, +it--it set the seal of reality on the rest. Do you know, I can't help +believing he made more than he need of his business in London; that the +real truth was he wanted to stay there without us, and see how much he +missed me. Now he's coming to accept _our_ invitation, a day sooner than +he meant to at first. Something tells me the reason why. I shall know +for sure to-night, when I see him. He didn't want us to meet him at the +station. But that was perhaps because--I couldn't have gone very well +without you, and maybe----" + +"I see! I'm to make myself scarce and leave you alone in the garden!" + +"Not yet, dear. Only when we hear the car actually stopping at the gate. +There'll be plenty of time then. And if you don't mind----" + +"Of course, I don't mind," said Basil. He felt that he was blushing +under the cover of darkness, and was thankful Aline could not see. Why +the blush, he could not have explained. Was it for his sister, because +she was managing her love affairs with a famous man in this energetic, +businesslike way, and jumping eagerly at conclusions? Or was it for +himself, because he was selfish and jealous of the new interest in +Aline's life, which would--if it ended as she hoped--take her away from +him and break their partnership? + +He almost wished to accept the latter explanation. He would rather be +disappointed in himself than think meanly--oh, ever so little meanly--of +Aline. + +Their partnership, begun when he was in the depths, regarding his life +as practically finished, had given him the greatest happiness he had +ever known. Memory flashed away at lightning speed over their travels +together, their adventures. Somerled's wife would not write novels. And +deep in his heart Basil knew that Aline's soul was not in the books, as +his was. He would not acknowledge this difference between them, but he +knew it was there. In old days, when Aline had written alone, she had +always chosen some subject that loomed large in public interest at the +moment, whether she herself cared about it or not, hoping to "come in on +the wave." Just because she had not really cared her scheme of work had +not given her success. So it had been with the idea of their first book +written together. Aline had wanted to plan out something to do with +motoring, about which every one was keen just then. She had proposed to +combine business with a cure for her brother; and when she had failed to +think of a "good plot on the right lines," he had made a suggestion +which flashed into his head. The joy of motoring, the wonder of travel, +both new to Basil, had intoxicated him. He wrote as one inspired, for +the sheer love of writing and telling what he had seen and felt. And the +world, catching the thrill of his joy, had shared it. + +He did not say this to himself now, did not realize the truth of it, and +did not even believe that he could go on writing stories and succeeding +without Aline. Only, he knew that he loved his work for itself, and she +did not. That the light of his life would be gone without it, whereas +she would be glad to stop working and be idle as the admired wife of a +celebrity and a millionaire. In this he felt a vague injustice of fate +which depressed him--a rare state of mind for Basil Norman, to whom for +four years the world had been a happy and magically beautiful +dwelling-place. + +"I hear a car now!" he exclaimed. + +"It's his!" she answered. "I heard the siren when his chauffeur sounded +it going out of the garage. It's different from any others that pass +along this road. Good-bye for a little while, dear. You're so kind to +me! Wish me luck." + +"I wish Somerled luck," he said, trying to laugh, as he turned and +marched quickly off toward the house. + +Aline quite understood. He meant that Somerled would be lucky to get +her. That was nice of him, and like him, too, for Basil was as gallant +and chivalrous to his sister as a lover. Yet--she was sorry that he +hadn't wished her luck in so many words. + +She walked toward the gate. The car had stopped. + + + + +V + + +Mrs. Keeling's place, lent to her much-admired authors, had a very +pretty gate. It was approached from the garden way, through an arbour +thickly hung with roses and honeysuckle. It seemed to Aline West, as she +went alone to meet Somerled, that night distilled a special perfume in +the dew-filled cups of the flowers, sweet as unspoken love. She felt +that she was on the threshold of happiness. It was the first step that +counted. If she met Somerled in the right spirit, with the right word +and the right look ... in this perfumed star-dusk and stillness, when +they had not seen each other for days ... and he knew she had been +waiting here for him, thinking of him ... and he saw that she had put on +the dress he liked so much on shipboard, the one she had worn the last +night, when he told her his life-story ... might not the thing that she +desired happen? She encouraged herself by saying, "Why not?" and +reminding herself that she was an attractive woman. Lots of men had been +in love with her--not the right ones, but that was a detail. Why not Ian +Somerled? He was a man, after all, like others. + +He was at the gate already ... she almost ran. + +"Hail, the conquering hero!" she cried to him, laughing. + +He opened the gate. But it was not he who came in. He was opening it for +some one else--a woman, a girl, something tall and feminine, anyhow. It +was wrapped in a cloak. It had a flat pancake on its head for a hat. +What could it be, and mean? The idea darted into Aline's mind that there +had been an accident on the way here from the station; that perhaps +Somerled had nearly or quite run over this creature--or her dog--or +something. + +"Hello, Mrs. West!" he answered her cheerfully. "I've got to you at +last, and I've brought a visitor for the night. I've given my guarantee +that you'll make her welcome." + +The light of Aline's joy went out like a ray of moonlight swallowed up +by a marauding cloud. She did not in the least understand what had +happened, or what were the obligations to which he had committed her; +but in any case the lute she had tuned had a rift in it, a big, bad +rift, and it could make no music to-night. She felt suddenly at her +worst instead of her best, as if she had tumbled off a bank of flowers +in her prettiest frock into a bog. She longed to be cold and snappy and +disagreeable, as a wife may safely be to a husband when he has +blundered, and as she had often been to Jim in his brief day; but +Somerled was not her husband, and certainly never would be unless she +minded her "p's and q's" like a good and very clever little angel with +unmeltable butter in its smiling mouth. So she shrieked, "Hang it!" and +even worse, with her whole heart, and said with her lips, in a charming +voice, "Why, of _course_! I shall be delighted to welcome any friend of +yours, and so will Basil. I _love_ surprises." + +It was a short arbour, and as they all three came out of it, Mrs. West +and Somerled and the wrapped-up thing with the pancake hat--the +chauffeur following with a suit-case--Aline's eyes made the most of the +starlight, that she might read the mystery and know the worst. The worst +was very bad. Under the stars the girl looked a radiant beauty, and so +young, so young! How was the man going to account for her? Was there +still hope? + +"I told you what Mrs. West would say!" exclaimed Somerled. "This is Miss +MacDonald, a daughter of Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald." + +"Oh!" said Aline. "How interesting! I'm delighted to meet her." She held +out her hand, and the girl, who had not yet spoken a word, put hers into +it. + +There was no real reason why "I'm delighted to meet her" wasn't +precisely the nicest thing to say in the circumstances, but somehow as a +greeting it hadn't quite the right ring, Aline herself felt. And she was +sorry, because she wanted to be entirely satisfactory to Somerled in +every way, in all situations, no matter how trying, and thus perhaps +save the ship. Why not? Many men of thirty-four were bored with girls, +and Somerled must have been bored by them already in their thousands. +Still, something that lay deep down within herself was sad and anxious. +A daughter of the beautiful and almost notorious Mrs. Ballantree +MacDonald! If he weren't in love with the girl, perhaps he had had a +desperate love affair with the mother. + +"I'd no idea that Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald had any children," Aline +went on, as she shook a supple, satiny hand which wore no glove. + +"She's only got me," said the girl, "and she doesn't know she's got me +yet. At least, she may have forgotten." + +Somerled broke out laughing. "You'll puzzle Mrs. West," he said, with a +good-natured, amused, and proprietary air which stabbed Aline's feelings +as with little sharp pins. No, whatever else he might be, he was not +bored. "We'll have to do a lot of explaining by and by, indoors." + +"Oh, yes," Barrie agreed. And then, plunging into her task, "He found me +in the railway station. I've run away from home, and he wouldn't let me +go to a hotel. Don't you really mind? Because----" + +"Of course I don't mind." Aline rose bravely to the occasion. "It sounds +wildly romantic, like most things that contrive to happen to Mr. +Somerled, although he says he's ceased to believe in romance. Have you +known each other long?" + +"Only to-night," replied Barrie. And Somerled began to see that, as he +had said, there certainly would have to be a lot of explaining. It +almost seemed complicated. Nevertheless, he felt that he had done the +only thing possible, and so far from having regrets, he had a curious +sense of elation that was boyish. He wanted to see what was going to +happen next. He felt as if by some rather nice accident he had been +inveigled into playing a new game. + +"I've known Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald ever since her first famous tour +through America some ten or twelve years ago," he said. "You'll be +amused, Mrs. West, to hear in what a queer way I ran across her daughter +to-night." + +"Yes, indeed, no doubt," answered Aline, as they walked toward the +house. She was forcing herself to cheer up a little. His tone in +speaking of the actress didn't sound like the tone of a man in love. And +men of his type, who had been run after and spoilt, surely didn't fall +in love at sight. It was going to prove no more than an annoying +incident, this bringing home of a strange girl, who mightn't be so +desperately pretty, anyhow, in a bright light. To-morrow the creature +would be packed off to her mother or some one; and in a day or two more +Somerled and Basil and she--Aline--would start off on their heavenly +trip as if nothing had happened. + +But Barrie was even prettier in the lamplight of the hall and +drawing-room than she had been in the silver vagueness of starlight. +Aline tried to think that she was the weirdest frump in the world, and +absolutely impossible as a fascinator; but she knew that the weirdness +would be superficial to the eye of Man. The thing was to hurry her away +in all her frumpiness. + +Aline brought them into the low-ceiled drawing-room which, with her own +hands, she had made beautiful with many flowers in honour of Somerled's +coming. She and Basil had been here for several days, while Somerled +attended to business in London, and she had been looking forward to her +friend's comments upon this drawing-room. She had imagined his +exclaiming: "You've made it look like yourself!" But the girl had +spoiled her effects. Somerled merely said, "What a pretty, old-fashioned +room! The green wall is a becoming background." And when he uttered this +comment it was at his vagabond he looked, not at his hostess. + +Barrie was rather remarkable against that green. She glanced around, +evidently in rapt admiration of everything she saw. Her eyes were very +bright and big, her young, red lips a little apart. "Silly thing, gaping +with her mouth open!" Aline relieved her feelings by saying to herself. + +"Oh, it's so beautiful here, and Mrs. West's dress is so lovely," the +girl said; "it makes me feel I must take off this horrid cloak and tam, +not to be a blot. May I take them off?" she asked Aline, turning frank +admiration on her, as one turns on a searchlight. + +Aline would have liked to think of some reason for saying "no," such as +a draught, or an immediate departure for upstairs; but even if the +excuse had been valid enough, it would have been of no use, for without +awaiting permission, which she took as a matter of course, the weird +creature had whipped off her green pancake and was throwing back her +cloak. "Not that my dress isn't nearly as bad," she apologized, sighing. +"I have never seen such a pretty room as this." + +It was really nothing wonderful by way of a room: a little oak +panelling; faded green brocade walls; some nice old pastels; furniture +of the Stuart period; pretty bright chintz; a few old Chelsea figures on +the mantel and in a cabinet; quantities of red and white roses in +Chinese bowls. Aline ached to snap, "If you've never seen anything as +pretty as _this_, where have you lived?" But that was not the way of +Somerled's ideal woman. It would have been better if the stupid thing +had praised Mrs. West's looks, thus riveting Somerled's eyes and +appreciation; but all her silly admiration seemed to be for the dress +and the room. Little brute! Incapable of calling another female pretty, +when a man was present. Just what one would expect of an actress's +daughter, especially _that_ actress, if half one heard of "Mrs. Bal" +were true. + +Aline was inclined to believe that Barrie MacDonald had purposely posed +herself under a hanging lamp, so as to show off her hair when suddenly +uncovered. The daughter of an actress, with the dramatic instinct in her +blood! But the idea did not seem to occur to Somerled, experienced as he +was, disillusioned as he thought himself. At least there was nothing +cynical in the expression of his face. + +"Do let me help you with your cloak," she said to Barrie, dimly hoping +that the man would contrast her exquisitely corseted figure in its dress +by Lucille with the crude, untrained outlines clothed in blue serge. She +was not so tall as Barrie as they stood together, she discovered, and +she wanted the girl to sit down. "You must both have something to eat," +she went on, pulling the old-fashioned bead embroidered bell rope; and +tears were close and hot behind her eyes, remembering how she had +planned the little supper for herself and Somerled--and Basil, who +hardly counted. "Or would you like to see your rooms first? One shall be +made ready directly for Miss MacDonald. I suppose her luggage has come +in with yours?" + +"I have only a--a parcel," Barrie meekly confessed, feeling three times +a worm, even a Laidly Worm. It was odd how this sweet-faced blond woman, +with blue eyes and a halo of fair hair and a gentle smile, contrived--of +course without meaning it--to make one feel the meanest, shabbiest thing +cumbering a beautiful world! "I wonder if I'm going to like men better +than women?" she thought. + +"Ah, a parcel," repeated Aline daintily, as an incredibly neat maid +answered the call of the beaded bell. "Moore," Mrs. West went on, "this +young lady, Miss MacDonald, will spend the night. I think she might have +the room of the red Chinese chintz at the end of my corridor. Please +have it made ready as soon as possible, and----" + +"Oh, is your name Muir?" exclaimed Barrie delightedly. "That's the name +of our housekeeper at Hillard House. Perhaps you're related, though I +never _heard_ of Mrs. Muir having any daughters or nieces." + +The maid, deftly taking the cue from her mistress _pro tem._, put into +her impersonal gaze the coldness of a whole glacier as her eyes moved +from defect to defect of Barrie's costume. The tone of that "Ah, a +_parcel_," was unmistakable, and she knew exactly what Mrs. West thought +of Miss MacDonald. "I am sorry, miss, but I do not think, I am related +to your housekeeper," she replied; and Aline determined to give her a +blouse or half a dozen handkerchiefs. She really was a most intelligent +person. So intelligent was she that she knew by the feeling in her bones +exactly how much Mrs. West wanted to get Miss MacDonald out of the +drawing-room and into the Chinese room, which would be the most +unbecoming in the house to a red-haired person. "I can take the young +lady up now, if you wish, madam," she continued, "for the room is in +order--only to bring towels and hot water." + +Barrie looked pleadingly at Somerled. "I am quite clean," she said. "I +washed at home before I started. And I'm _so_ hungry." + +Her appeal to him as a tried and trusted friend waked up something in +Somerled which he had not known existed. Whatever it was stirred and was +soft and warm in the region of his heart. + +"I'm sure Mrs. West doesn't want to send you away," he said. And he +could have said nothing more tactless. "I, too, am comparatively +spotless," he went on, protecting his protégée by putting himself on her +level, "and superlatively hungry. We shall both be delighted to accept +your invitation to supper." He laughed, and Barrie gave him a grateful, +understanding glance. He felt as if she were a wonderfully pretty doll +which had somehow come alive after he had bought and rescued it from an +upper shelf in an unworthy toy-shop--a dear, delightful, untamed doll +which now belonged to him; and he was not sure that he wanted to let +anybody else play with it until he had begun to tire a little of its +tricks himself. Of course he'd tire in time; but there would not be time +for tiring, because the doll must soon be packed off and sent to its +mother. + +"Tell Mr. Norman that Mr. Somerled has come, and that we're ready for +supper," said Aline to Moore. The eyes of mistress and maid met, and for +an instant they were social equals. + +Basil Norman was a man who had odd thoughts and enjoyed them. For this +reason he did not weary of his own society, for he never quite knew what +he would think next. When he came to the door and pushed it open, he +half believed that he was dreaming the tall, beautiful, badly dressed +girl with torrents of red hair. People in real life did not wear their +hair in torrents. Perhaps she was a ghost who went with the house, and +he had never happened to see her before. He wondered if the others had +noticed her yet. + +"How are you, Somerled?" he inquired, not taking his eyes off the +apparition. It was looking at him, too, almost anxiously, as if it were +wondering whether he would be friend or foe; but, of course, it did not +speak. + +"All right. Very glad to see you both again--and to be here," Somerled +answered. + +"Miss MacDonald," announced Aline, thin-lipped. + +"So you have a name?" said Basil to Barrie. "Was it given to you in +dreamland or the spirit-world?" Then she knew at once that he was not a +foe, but a friend. + +"Fairyland," she replied, beaming on him. "I was in fairyland to-day. If +I hadn't been there, I shouldn't be here." She could answer her own late +question now, with practical certainty. She _was_ going to like men +better than women! Her mother, of course, would be an exception. + + + + +VI + + +It was a delicious little supper that Mrs. West had ordered in +Somerled's honour, yet for some mysterious reason, thoroughly understood +only by Aline, nobody did justice to it or enjoyed it much. Perhaps +there was thunder in the air, which upset the nerves of every one, even +the nerves of Moore, who spilt _bouillon_ on Miss MacDonald's sleeve. +This was the explanation which occurred to Basil; and certain it was +that the sky had suddenly clouded over, hiding all the stars. + +"I do hope we're not going to have rain for our trip," he remarked, more +for the sake of something to say than because, even if rain came, it +were likely to last. "It's just the ticklish time of the month for +weather, you know: to-morrow we shall have the new moon." + +"The heather moon!" Barrie said softly, looking out of the open window +at the purple night, purple as heather. + +"What do you mean by a heather moon?" asked Basil, interested. "It +sounds sweeter than honeymoon." + +"It's the sweetest moon of the year," the girl answered. "The moon when +all the most beautiful things ought to happen to the people who are +worthy of them--and the honeymoon can't come till afterward. I've always +wanted something romantic to happen to me in the heather moon; yet +nothing ever has, so far. It couldn't, at Grandma's!" + +"But you haven't explained the heather moon," Basil reminded her. + +"Don't you _really_ know?" She opened her eyes very wide as she smiled +at him in a friendly, childlike way; and Basil and Somerled forgot that +there was a Mrs. West in the room. It was a momentary lapse of memory, +but Aline felt it electrically. She was enraged at Basil, and disgusted +with Barrie, though merely grieved with Somerled. + +"_There's_ a minx for you!" thought Moore, who was plain, and had been +chosen by Mrs. Keeling because her teeth stuck out more than the lady's +own. + +"Wait! I believe, as a good Scotsman, I can guess," said Somerled. "The +heather moon's the moon of August, the moon when the heather's in its +prime of bloom." + +"Yes!" cried Barrie, joyous that it should be he, her first friend, the +friend of her mother, who had solved the puzzle. "That's it: and it's +the moon for falling in love. That's why the honeymoon has to come +afterward." Then, seeing that Mrs. West was looking at her with a look +that might mean astonishment or disapproval, she blushed. It was queer, +but for a minute that pretty, quite young woman--if widows could be +called _quite_ young--had an expression almost like Grandma's. + +"Oh, I do hope I haven't said anything horrid?" Barrie appealed from one +to another. "You see, I never dared say anything at all about love +before Grandma or Heppie, but it is talked about so _much_ in books, I +thought I might mention it in company. I'm sorry if I've not been +maidenly, which Miss Hepburn is always telling me I'm not." + +"I suspect most maidens think a good deal about love whether or no they +talk of it, don't they, Norman?" said Somerled. + +"How should I know?" Basil asked. + +Both men were different from their everyday selves to-night. They seemed +self-conscious. + +"Why, it's your business to know. You write novels. Or do you leave all +the love parts to your sister?" + +"I suppose widows may talk as much as they like about love," said Barrie +reflectively, "having had it and passed it by." + +The creature was pretending to take for granted that widows were poor, +_passée_ things who had lived their lives and could have no more +personal interest in heather moons or honeymoons! Mrs. West grew pale, +and was angry with herself for caring. Barrie made her feel faded--a +"back number." She told herself that if she could not get rid of this +girl the first thing to-morrow, she should be ill. + +"You must ask your mother these questions, and she'll answer them better +than I can," Aline said in her pretty voice, with her gentle smile. + +Already she had heard from Barrie and from Somerled something of the +girl's story, and knew that through family misunderstandings mother and +daughter had been separated for years. "You must be _so_ impatient to +see her!" she went on. + +"I am," said Barrie. + +"I know Sir George Alexander a little," Aline answered. "He may take a +curtain-raiser of ours; and it's occurred to me to telegraph him in the +morning, as soon as the post-office opens. He'll be able to let us know +where Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald's acting. We won't trust to the stage +papers alone. It would be a pity to keep this child in suspense a minute +longer than necessary. Don't you think it's a good plan, Mr. Somerled?" + +"Very," he agreed. It was a good plan. And it _would_ be a pity to keep +the child in suspense. The pretty doll must be packed up and sent away +where it belonged, whereupon everything would go on as before. And the +heather moon would begin to shine gold on purple, for the trip through +bonny Scotland, which he had planned. He had been looking forward to the +tour, not with keen enthusiasm indeed, but with interest. He had been +satisfied with the companions he had chosen, and the fact that they +wanted to see Scotland had given him an incentive for taking the rest +cure he had been imperatively ordered, in his native land rather than +elsewhere. Once, long ago, self-exiled at the age of Barrie MacDonald, +he had passionately yearned for his "ain countree," and often regretted +the boyish vow he was too proud and obstinate to break. But years had +passed now since Duncan MacDonald and his daughter Margaret visited +America to find themselves worth knowing only as kinsfolk of the +despised peasant. Accepting the situation because of its advantages and +his necessities, the old man had ignored the past and "made up" to the +young millionaire artist. Ian's sense of humour had been so tickled +that, to his own surprise, he had laughed and forgotten his youthful +rancour. It struck him as distinctly funny that he had ever taken old +Duncan's waspishness seriously enough to make vows of any sort because +of it. And he saw that indirectly he owed fortune to the haughty lord of +Dhrum. It had amused Somerled a good deal and pleased him a little that +"his highness" (as he called the great one) should implore the "peasant +brat" to become tenant of Dunelin Castle for an unlimited term of years; +that Duncan should chat to newspaper men of his "distinguished relative +Ian MacDonald, who had won fame under the very suitable _nom de guerre_ +of Somerled"; and that "Cousin Ian" should be pressed to meet "Cousin +Margaret." It was a queer world, and nobody in it was queerer than one's +self. So Somerled had felt when, just because the miracle had happened +to free him of his vow, he no longer pined to gaze upon his native +Highlands. He felt at home and happy enough in America; and if being +"happy enough" wasn't quite the beautiful state he had pictured as a +boy, it was full of interest. He had taken Dunelin Castle off its +owner's hands at a high yearly rent, in order that no rich and vulgar +Cockney should become the tenant, but he had never stayed there, though +once, even to have the right of entrance would have seemed a fairy +dream. There were no such things as fairy dreams for him since he had +thoroughly grown up, because in the process of becoming a millionaire he +had ceased to believe in any kind of dreams. Friendships and sympathies +he had vainly longed for in his poverty could be his for the asking or +even without the asking now; and that was the reason he did not feel +they were worth having. He had no use in his heart for little brothers +and sisters of the rich, and in his experienced hardness he was +sometimes unjust to kindly people. But he had liked the novels of Aline +West and Basil Norman before he met the two popular Canadian authors on +shipboard; and learning that they planned to write a "Scotch book," it +had occurred to him that they might all three go about sight-seeing +together. His rest cure had ceased to bore him in prospect; he had +thought with some pleasure of showing Aline Dunelin Castle and the +island of Dhrum. Suddenly, however, Aline's own words damped the +prospect as with a douche of cold water. + +She was perfectly right, too. It would be a very good plan to place the +waif he had picked up as soon as possible in the care of a mother, even +such an extraordinary, incredible mother as Mrs. "Bal" MacDonald: a good +plan for the girl's sake, and for everybody's sake, because it was +arranged to start for Scotland the day after to-morrow. Still, Barrie's +impromptu ode to the heather moon had for a moment irradiated his mind +with a light such as had not shone for Somerled on land or sea since he +had become rich enough to afford the most expensive lighting. Then as +quickly it had died down. He saw himself spinning agreeably through +Scottish scenes with Mrs. West and her brother, and suddenly, +treacherously, he felt that to spin agreeably was not enough to satisfy +him, that it was unworthy of wondrous golden light on purple hills of +high romance. He wanted something more, something altogether different, +and the plans which had contented him looked dull as ditchwater in the +fading glamour. He himself looked dull. Aline looked dull, and for a +moment he almost disliked her sweet blue eyes, her pretty, ever gentle +smile, behind which must lurk some true feeling, or she could not write +those delicately charming books. + +"And don't you think, too," Aline urged kindly, "that we ought to put +Miss MacDonald's poor grandmother out of her misery? I might write a +note to--Hillard House, I think she said?--explaining--er--what has +happened, as well--as well as I could? Let me see, what _would_ be best? +Oh, I could say that by accident her granddaughter had met a guest of +mine, a friend of Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald's; that she wasn't to worry, +because, though her granddaughter refused to return, we would see that +the child reached her mother safely, by to-morrow night if possible. I +can mention Basil, and say we are the writers. If she has heard of us, +that may relieve the poor lady's mind." + +"Grandma hasn't heard of you, I'm sure," said Barrie, "unless you write +religious books; but she won't _need_ her mind relieved. While I was +with her, I think she considered it her duty to take strict care of me; +but now I've gone my own way, she'll see it was predestined. It was just +the same with a Dresden china teapot she inherited. She didn't approve +of it because it was too gay, but she always washed it herself because +it was her father's. When it broke in spite of her, she wouldn't have it +mended, and told Heppie to throw the pieces away." + +"Nevertheless, I must write, and send the letter to Hillard House by +hand," Aline insisted. "If I didn't do that I should not be able to +sleep." She spoke with fervour, for she felt that she must have two +strings to her bow. If "Mother" failed, she must be able to fall back on +"Grandma." + + + + +VII + + +Barrie meant to be up and dressed before any one else in the house, but +she lay awake until long after midnight, an unprecedented thing for her, +and in consequence slept late, making up her accustomed nine hours. + +Usually she fell asleep at ten or soon after, and jumped briskly out of +bed at seven, waked only by her eager desire for renewed life, in a +perfectly new day which no one else had ever seen yet. This morning it +was a repeated knocking at the door which mingled with her dreams and +shook her out of them. What door could it be? Where was she? the girl +wondered for a dazed instant. Then Moore appeared with a breakfast-tray. + +"Mrs. West said not to wake you for early tea," she explained with a +glacial coldness worthy of Hillard House. "Madam and the two gentlemen +are having breakfast out of doors in the summer-house; and when you get +up, miss, I advise you to draw your curtains well across the windows or +you may be seen." + +Barrie wished that she too were having breakfast in the summer-house, +and thought it mistaken kindness on the part of Mrs. West not to have +her called. But, from Aline's point of view, there was no mistake. "I +have let the child sleep," she explained to Somerled and Basil. "It _is_ +such a child, isn't it? And when she wakes up there may be a wire in +answer to mine, which went before eight." + +When ten o'clock struck and still the telegram had not arrived, Aline +asked herself if she oughtn't to go and call on old Mrs. MacDonald, who +had deigned to take no notice of her tactfully expressed letter. Just +then, however, Somerled's chauffeur was seen hovering in the flowery +distance. He had brought two stage papers which his master had sent him +out to buy. Aline was not pleased that Somerled had thought it necessary +to get information on his own account. She would have preferred that he +should trust to her; but she tried to think that perhaps he too was +secretly tired of the girl and wanted to be rid of her. While he was +glancing through the first paper, Moore glided into the summer-house +with a brick-coloured envelope on a silver tray. It was addressed to +Aline, and she opened it quickly, glad to be ahead of Ian with news. +Then she found herself confronting an unexpected difficulty. "Mrs. B. M. +trying new play small towns; will open Edinburgh in five or six days." +With something like a gasp, Aline stopped on the brink of reading the +telegram aloud. Who would have thought of this? + +Her brain worked quickly. She didn't want Somerled to know that "Mrs. +Bal" was so near. He might--make some ridiculous proposal about the +girl--Heaven alone knew what! Men were capable of anything. The +troublesome creature must really go back to her grandmother at once. +Mrs. Bal could easily come to Carlisle and collect her--like lost +luggage--if she cared to be burdened with such luggage. If only Aline +could find some excuse to make Somerled put down that paper and +forthwith go into the house! + +"Is your telegram from Sir George?" he inquired calmly, looking up from +the paper which she longed to snatch. + +For half a second she hesitated, and then said, "No. It's not what I +expected." This was almost true. + +Basil was gazing at her with solicitude. He thought that she had turned +pale. "No bad news from any one, I hope, dear?" he asked. + +"It is annoying," she replied with reserve, and crumpled up the +telegram. "I was stupid to let Moore go--I must send an answer. Mr. +Somerled, it would be too good of you to look for a form on the desk in +the drawing-room." + +"Shan't I----" began Basil. + +"I must ask your advice, meanwhile, about what I'm to say," she cut him +short. Somerled put down the paper on the rustic seat, got up with +alacrity, and started for the house. He would be back in three or four +minutes, and not one of those minutes ought to be wasted. "Don't bother +with questions," she said to Basil, "but if you love me, make those +theatrical papers disappear before Mr. Somerled can read them. I'm going +to change my mind and follow him into the house to write my telegram. +I'll keep him a while talking. If he comes looking for his papers, I +want them to be gone. I depend on you!" + +Without waiting for Basil's promise, she darted away in order to +intercept Somerled before he could finish his errand in the +drawing-room. Of course, it would be easy for him to buy more papers, +but before he could get them, Aline was hoping to have maneuvered the +embarrassing Miss MacDonald out of the house. She counted that Ian would +be long in finding the forms, because men never could find the simplest +things when told to look for them; but Somerled was an exception, and +she only just caught him on the threshold. "After all, I want your +advice instead of Basil's," she said. "Do sit here where we shall be +quiet, and let me consult you." She patted the arm of a big +chintz-covered sofa invitingly, and as she sat down Ian followed suit. +Still she did not know what on earth to say to him. She hoped for an +inspiration at the last instant, as Basil had taught her to do in +arranging a difficult situation between hero and heroine. She wanted to +play heroine now with Somerled as hero. Oh, how much she wanted it! + +She took a long breath which _must_ bring that inspiration at the end of +it, if inspiration were to be of use. And it came at command, as things +good or bad do come if intensely desired. But it was such a thoroughly +objectionable inspiration that she hardly dared snap at it as she +wished, for Aline was not malicious, and disliked malice and all +uncharitableness as she disliked smearing her pink and white fingers +with ink. Still, no alternative idea occurred to her, and Somerled was +waiting. In desperation she had to take what offered, excusing herself +to herself with every word she spoke. Yet through all she could not help +thinking that she was clever, that she had marvellous presence of mind, +and that she was displaying an inventive faculty which would have +surprised Basil, though, of course, he must never know, because men were +often as idiotically conscientious about little things as they were +unscrupulous about big ones. + +"The telegram that came was from Mrs. MacDonald, the child's +grandmother," she heard herself explaining, not forgetting, in her +mental confusion, to rub in the impression of Barrie's unfledged youth. +"I was surprised at not hearing, but this wire is an answer to my +letter. The old lady goes into no particulars, but she says: 'Gravest +reasons why my granddaughter should not join her mother. Hope you in +person will bring her back to me.' Now, dear Mr. Somerled, the little +girl is your protégée. It's for you to say what's to be done with her." + +Somerled did not reply at once. He sat thinking, his hands thrust deep +in his pockets, making a jingling noise with keys or silver, which in +her present mood got upon Aline's nerves extraordinarily. She felt that +if he did not stop jingling and begin to speak she should scream. If he +asked to see the telegram, she was prepared to say that she had torn it +up, as an excuse not to show it to Basil, on second thoughts the affair +appearing to be Somerled's business. Somerled did not, however, make the +request, and Aline was spared an extra fib, at which she was +unreasonably pleased. + +"Well?" she controlled herself to murmur, instead of screaming. + +"I should feel a traitor to give the girl up," he said. "In fact, I +can't do it unless she agrees. I promised not even to advise her that +she ought to go back. She trusted me when I brought her here." + +"Shall _I_ have a little talk with her?" Aline suggested, and never had +her voice been so kind and sweet. Indeed, in her trembling hope, she was +willing to be sweet and kind--with limitations. + +Somerled thought again for a minute, jingling more horribly than ever. +Then, just at screaming-point once more for Aline, he said decidedly, +"No, thank you. From what Miss MacDonald's told us, it's natural her +grandmother should think there are grave objections to Mrs. Bal as a +guardian; but the old lady's two generations at least behind the age. +Youth's at the prow nowadays, and--a mother's a mother, anyhow. We'll +have to give Mrs. Bal a chance to do the maternal act----" + +"She may be far, far away, even in America--or Australia," Aline +objected. "And even if----" + +"Oh, Mr. Somerled, mother's coming to Edinburgh!" cried a voice at the +long window, and Barrie appeared, waving a newspaper. + +The one unforeseen thing had happened. The vagabond had strayed into the +summer-house and beguiled Basil. Aline knew too well what excuse he +would make if accused: "Why, you didn't tell me _she_ wasn't to look at +the papers!" + +"I've seen the name, 'Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald,'" the detestable girl +went on, pushing into the room without asking permission. "She's going +to 'open,' as the paper expresses it, in a new play called 'The Nelly +Affair,' on Monday night at the Lyceum Theatre. Next Monday! Nearly a +week from now! How can I wait--what shall I do till then?" + +It was to Somerled that she appealed. She made him feel that the +responsibility was his. And it was a bad moment to feel this, because of +Mrs. West's telegram from Grandma. He got up from the sofa, still +jingling the money in his pockets. Looking down at Aline he saw only her +profile and an ear as deeply pink as coral under a loop of blond hair. +Evidently she too was feeling the situation. Good of her to take an +interest! She really was good. She had asked his advice. Now he would +ask hers. + +"Mrs. West and I will talk over a plan I have for you," he said to the +girl. + +"Is it your plan--or hers?" asked Barrie anxiously. + +"It will be both by the time you hear it," he answered, with a +reassuring smile. + +Aline humoured him. "Run away and play, little girl, till the plan is +cooked," she gayly cried. "Play with my brother." + +Barrie backed out, feeling as if she had been half smothered with a +perfumed pillow. + +"Do you guess my plan?" asked Ian. + +"I wonder?" Aline murmured. She could not have spoken aloud just then. + +"It's this. Why shouldn't we take her with us in the car to Edinburgh? +We've lots of room." + +She had known that this would come. All she had done had only hastened +the catastrophe. "That poor old lady," she stammered. "I can't help +sympathizing--being a little sorry for her. Isn't she, then, to be +considered--after bringing up the girl?" + +"You think," he said reflectively, "that she ought to be consulted?" + +"Oh, I do!" + +"Very well. Then I'll go and have it out with her myself." + +"The telegram!" thought Mrs. West, her ears more coraline than ever. +"After all," she faltered, "perhaps it would bring about complications. +She might resort to--to something legal. Fancy if she sent the police to +get back her granddaughter." + +Somerled laughed and said nothing. He was not in a mood for argument. + +"He won't go," Aline thought. "Thank Heaven, he hates bother." + +This was true of Somerled as a rule; but his rules had exceptions. + + + + +VIII + + +So this was the garden where that strange flower of girlhood had budded +and blossomed. All at once Barrie, in her quaintness, became a readable +riddle to Somerled. + +The two gates in the high wall were kept bolted, but there was a +jangling bell for each, the gate for visitors (it was almost +supererogatory), and the gate for tradesmen and servants. An elderly and +sullenly astonished woman opened the visitors' gate for Somerled, and +made of her lean form a barrier lest he should try to pass. But she +being narrowly built, on somewhat Gothic lines, and the gateway being +broad, Somerled saw past the flying buttresses of her skirts into the +background. And it was this background that explained in a flash why the +girl knew less of life than a bird which has learned to use its wings; +also the reason why she could never return to waste her young years +behind the garden wall of Hillard House. The thought came into +Somerled's mind that it would be interesting to show her the world she +had never seen, not only between Carlisle and Edinburgh, but over the +hills and far away, as far as the purple island of Dhrum, set in its +sunset frame of ocean gold--or even farther. That could not be, of +course, but the picture was pleasant. + +He had prepared himself to be ingratiating; but he realized that +ingratiation was not a successful line to pursue with dragons. Instead +of inquiring politely if Mrs. MacDonald were at home, he said bluntly, +"I wish to see Mrs. MacDonald; I have business with her--not my +business, but hers. And you may tell her I am not The MacDonald of +Dhrum, but _a_ MacDonald from Dhrum, a very different thing." + +He knew well that the name of Somerled would be no "Open Sesame" to this +door, and he rather enjoyed the knowledge. It was clear at once that he +had used the right key. Perhaps no other would have served a stranger. +Anna Case was not a Scotswoman, but the name of MacDonald was respected +within these gates, no matter who bore it, and this dark man, with the +blue eyes that went through you like bright steel blades, didn't look +like one who would claim what he had no right to claim. She bade him +follow her into the house, which he did; into the hall; and so to a +drearier drawing-room than he had ever entered. There had perhaps been +some as gray and grim on his island of Dhrum; but in those days he had +known nothing of drawing-rooms. + +This was not even early Victorian. It was mid-Victorian, and rubbing and +brushing had given the ugly furniture no time to mellow. He sat down on +a horsehair-covered sofa which had two worked worsted cushions, each +stiffly upright in its corner. One represented a dog's head, the other a +bunch of white and yellow flowers with a cold background of steel beads. +On the walls hung a few steel engravings; a meeting of Covenanters; +portraits of unco' guid worthies with sidewhiskers or beards; and some +tortured stags pursued or caught by hounds. + +"Terrible!" he groaned in spirit. "Who'd suppose that such things +existed nowadays?" + +He might appropriately have made much the same criticism of the old +woman who at that instant opened the door and came in, sturdily, in +spite of her limp and the stout stick grasped in a knuckly hand. But as +their eyes met--hers like thick glass panes behind which a burning fire +could be dimly seen--something in her grim spirit spoke to something as +grim and uncompromising far down his nature. To his own surprise he felt +awaking in himself a queer impulse of sympathy for the redoubtable +Grandma. Perhaps, reluctantly, she felt the same for him. But she looked +him in the face, keenly and unblinkingly. "Well, sir," she said, in a +deep voice almost like a man's, and amazingly young and vital, "well, +sir, I do not recognize you, though you have gained entrance to my house +by claiming the name of MacDonald." + +"That is true," replied Ian, who had risen at her coming. "It's the +first time I've claimed the name for many years, though it is mine and +was my father's before me." + +"Who was your father?" the old woman catechized him. "What kin to +Duncan, my dead husband's half-brother?" + +"No kin except by clan ties. You wouldn't have heard of us. My father +was a crofter. His name was David." + +"I well remember that man," said Mrs. MacDonald, "and his wife too when +I lived with my husband on the island in my youth. Let me see--Mary her +name was. They were God-fearing folk, and didn't wear any such grand +clothes as you do, not even for their Sunday best." + +"I paint people's portraits, you see, and have to live in cities," +explained Ian calmly, though he had grown lazy as he grew rich and had +not painted. "My clothes suit my trade and way of life better than my +father's would, I think; though, as for my brains, my father's hat would +have been too big for them." + +"I dare say you are right about the brains. You are that youth who went +off to America under the name of Somerled," Mrs. MacDonald severely +remarked. "I have read of you in the newspapers; but I never approved of +you, sir. It's not man's work, to my mind, smearing canvas with paint, +and encouraging silly women to be vain of their faces." + +"My portraits aren't considered to have that effect," returned Somerled; +"rather the contrary, in some cases. And I'm sorry you don't approve of +me, because that makes a bad opening for what I've come to say. However, +it can't be helped. I know Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald slightly; met her +in America----" + +"If you think an acquaintance with that woman will recommend you to me, +sir, you are mightily mistaken," was the answer he got. + +"I mention it to make you understand why, when I met her daughter last +night, I felt it my duty to do what I could, being of the same name and +not quite a stranger to the family." + +"Oh, you felt it your duty! Then you're the person mentioned in a letter +I received from a certain Mrs. West, according to herself a writer of +books. I do not read her sort of books, and never heard of her. 'Motor +novels' indeed! What worse than nonsense! Little enough sense fools must +have to buy them! If you have come from this Mrs. West, you can tell her +from me, as she has made her bed she may lie in it. She has not taken +under her roof my granddaughter, but the daughter of Mrs. Ballantree +MacDonald, the play actress. I did my best for the girl, striving to +bring her up to be a good and modest woman, despite the bad blood of the +mother who broke my son's heart and killed him, who did what she could, +and has been doing what she could in the years since, to disgrace our +house. I might have known I should strive in vain, and I did know at +heart. Vanity and extravagance and fondness of pleasure were Barbara +Ballantree's undoing. I preserved her daughter from those dangers, and +gave her a religious education. Levity was sternly rebuked in her. She +had no young acquaintances to teach her foolishness, or tell her of her +mother's sin. She was allowed no money to fritter away on vanities, no +silly novels to read, such as those your friends write, no frivolous +pursuits which could distract her mind from duty--yet she is her mother +over again, and, like her mother, runs away from my house by stealth, in +the dead of night." + +"It wasn't ten o'clock when I met her in the railway station," Somerled +defended the absent. "She was then not very stealthily seeking a train +for London, where she expected to find her mother. Mrs. West has written +you, I know, and told you everything that happened. For my part, I've +called to speak of a plan I have in mind for your granddaughter. The +telegram you sent Mrs. West seemed----" + +"The telegram I sent Mrs. West? I've sent no telegram to her nor any +one. I don't send telegrams." + +"Indeed?" stammered Somerled, taken aback. "I understood--Mrs. West +believed the telegram to be from you----" + +"Nothing of the kind. She couldn't have believed it," Mrs. MacDonald +shut him up mercilessly. "She must have been 'romancing,' as I suppose +she would call it. I should call it lying." + +Remembering Aline's words, Somerled also was frankly inclined to call it +lying--on the part of the young woman or the old. He would gladly have +blamed the elder, but reason rebelled. Whatever Mrs. MacDonald's faults +might be, she did not seem to be one who would deliberately tell a lie. + +"But why should Mrs. West?" Somerled asked himself, calling up the +pretty smile, the soft blue eyes of his friend. He had been inclined to +believe her true. He had liked her very much, more than he liked most +women, and had wondered if he might not learn to like her still better +in time. The women he saw oftenest were mostly nervous, exacting, +self-centred creatures, craving constant flattery. Aline was none of +these things. She had many charms, and he had seen few defects; but a +motive for falseness in the matter of the telegram would suggest itself +to his intelligence. He tried to shut the door in its insinuating, +conceited grin. + +"There must be a mistake--somewhere," he mumbled. + +"Not here, anyhow," retorted the old lady. + +"After all, it's apart from the question in hand. But perhaps my plans +for your granddaughter don't interest you?" + +"Not particularly. Still, you may as well tell them. I see you want to." + +"And I see"--Somerled squandered a smile, but only because it came +spontaneously--"I see that you want to hear them, because," he dared to +go on with a flash of his keen eyes into hers, "you _do_ care what +becomes of Miss MacDonald. If you had not got Mrs. West's letter, you +would have had no sleep last night. As it is, knowing your granddaughter +has fallen into safe hands, you can comfortably disclaim anxiety." + +"You seem to fancy yourself a mind-reader, my good sir," returned Mrs. +MacDonald at her haughtiest, or what Barrie would have called her +"snortiest." "Think what you like. It is nothing to me, and thinking +costs naught. As for the hands she has fallen into, what do I know of +them? They may be black with sin for all I can tell. No doubt Barbara +Ballantree's daughter would be just as ready to accept help from such +hands." + +"As a painter, I try to keep mine clean," said Somerled. "I tell you +that in earnest, not in joke, because for the present I've constituted +myself your granddaughter's guardian. My plan is to take her in my +motor-car to Edinburgh, where I shall deliver her safely to Mrs. +Bal--Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald. In the car will be Mrs. West and her +brother, Basil Norman. Have you anything to say against the plan? If you +have, kindly speak now." + +"If I did speak, would it prevent your doing what you've made up your +mind to do?" + +"Perhaps not, unless your reasons appealed to my judgment," Somerled +admitted. + +"You're no prevaricator, anyhow." + +"I don't come of prevaricating stock." + +"You don't, if you're David MacDonald's son. He was a humble, +God-respecting man. But you have no humble air. You hold your crest +high." + +Somerled was minded to be impudent and say that in that case he must get +his hair cut; but he refrained. "The atmosphere of this house does not +conduce to humility, madam," he answered instead--and always as they +talked the two looked one another straight and full in the face. + +"H'm!" the old woman grunted. Yet there was something vaguely resembling +a twinkle in the glass-gray eyes, a gleam which Barrie and few others +now living had ever seen; for not more than one or two of her +fellow-beings had ever had the slightest idea how to manage Mrs. +MacDonald, _née_ Ann (scorning an "e") Hillard. + +"Go on your motor trip, then, so far as I care," said she, a permission +which from her was well-nigh a blessing. "It will probably end in a +smash-up before Edinburgh." + +"I think not," said Somerled. "I drive myself, and I know how to drive +rather well." + +"I was not referring to physical results." + +"So I presumed. Nor was I," he retorted. + +If she found the reply enigmatical she did not say so. + +They had not sat down during the conversation. Now, Somerled took a step +toward the door. "I'm obliged to you for receiving me, madam," he said +as a prelude to departure. + +"I received you on the strength of your name," she reminded him. + +"Which I don't intend to disgrace in your eyes." + +"Why in my eyes? They will not long be looking your way." + +"I think they will, as long as I'm in charge of your granddaughter. +That's what I mean." + +"I do not thank you for the assurance. Except that when she's twenty-one +I shall make over certain money of my son's to her, I have washed my +hands of the girl." + +"I haven't. That's not the kind of washing to make them clean." + +"You reproach me, sir!" She glared at him. + +"Not at all, madam. Even if I would venture, there's no need, for I +think your bark is worse than your bite." + +Again she almost twinkled at the wretch's daring. There was excitement +in it, which she had not experienced since early married days. Then she +had had to do with another MacDonald, and even a Hillard could without +disgrace afford to be mastered by a MacDonald of Dhrum. + +"When I've put your granddaughter into more suitable guardianship than +mine," Somerled went on quickly, "I'll write and tell you." + +"Suitable guardianship! It will be some time before I get that letter." + +"I thank you for the compliment." + +"It was not one." + +"You're not to blame if I choose to take it as such." + +"I am not to blame in any way in this matter." + +"There I'm no judge. It's my own actions I must look after." And again +he smiled. + +"I advise you to be careful, sir, between Barbara Ballantree and +Barribel MacDonald. I wish you joy of them both." + +"And what of Aline West?" The question whispered itself in Somerled's +ears. + +But Mrs. MacDonald knew nothing of Aline West. And Somerled was +beginning to think that, for all the boasted sagacity of experience, he +knew not much more. + +"Thank you for your kind wishes," he said non-committally. "And now I +will wish you a good day." + +He put out his hand, and, to her own intense surprise when she thought +of it afterward, Mrs. MacDonald gave hers. Over the prominent knuckles +the old skin lay soft and loose. The grim woman was vaguely pathetic to +Somerled in his youth and strength and full tide of success. The touch +of the would-be iron hand in the velvet glove of faded age made him +conscious of his vast advantage over her. He went away filled with hope, +and a curious new joy of life, which was partly the excitement of +battle. + +"The _heather moon_!" he found himself saying, as he passed out of the +ill-kept, once lovely garden where Barrie had often dreamed. Perhaps the +thought came then because here and there a patch of heather glorified +the weeds, or perhaps because Barrie's dreams still empurpled their +birthplace. + + + + +IX + + +When luncheon-time drew near and Somerled was absent, Aline's heart +misgave her. It was useless to argue that he must have lingered in talk +with his chauffeur, with whom he had early gone to confer. Reason +offered this explanation, which was plausible, and altogether more +likely than any other; but instinct was deaf to it. Aline wandered +nervously about the house and garden, unable to settle anywhere, and it +was an added vexation to her disturbed spirit that Basil should be +giving himself heart and soul to the entertainment of that dreadful girl +in the summer-house. It was well enough that he should entertain her, +and keep her passive, but Aline would have liked him to be a martyr, +sacrificing his own inclination for his sister's good. She did not wish +to think that there was something about this young, crude creature which +attracted men to her, and caused them to find pleasure in her society. +Aline's head ached, and she could not think consecutively. Again and +again she asked herself, "What shall I do if he has been to see that old +woman and found out about the telegram?" but no clear answer would come. +She could only repeat the would-be consoling words, "But he _hasn't_ +been there. It's silly to think of such a thing. He's not that sort of +man." + +She was in the summer-house with her brother and Barrie MacDonald when +at last Somerled did come. She called to him gayly as he appeared round +the corner of an immense architectural rose-bush, and he answered +pleasantly. He even met her smile with a smile as friendly to the eye, +and there was no definable change in his look or manner, yet--Aline was +filled with a cold fear which chilled the perfumed August noon. Her +perception of the invisible was as sensitive as the needle of a compass +to the thrill of the magnetic north. Her brain suddenly buzzed as if a +hive of bees had been let loose in her head. A voice seemed to be +yelling in her ears accusations: "What a fool you have been--what a fool +you have been. It's all your fault if he has found out. You needn't have +done the thing. It wasn't necessary." + +She feared to meet Somerled's eyes and read condemnation, yet her very +dread forced her to seek them, and learn at once the best or worst, +since suspense was unbearable. It seemed to her that he avoided her +look; that he too was nervous and uncomfortable, while trying to appear +at ease. + +For a moment or two he talked of the car, which he had been to see, and +of a sight-seeing expedition round Carlisle which Basil had proposed for +the afternoon. Then he turned suddenly to Barrie: "I've been thinking +over what we can do for you, Miss MacDonald," he said. "We don't know +where your mother is now, but we do know that she'll be in Edinburgh the +first of next week. Perhaps we might be able to find out her whereabouts +meanwhile, but there'd be delay before we could expect answers to +inquiries, if she's playing small towns in order to knock her new play +into shape. You don't want to go back to your grandmother's. We're +starting off in my car to-morrow. I've undertaken the responsibility of +you, so I'm your guardian _pro tem_. I couldn't allow you to hang about +alone anywhere. The alternative is, taking you with us in the car. What +do you say?" + +"Me in a motor-car!" exclaimed Barrie, rapturous. "It can't be true." + +"It will be true if you say 'yes.'" Somerled spoke coolly, but it seemed +to Aline that his eyes were alight. They were fixed on the girl, noting +how she paled and flushed. Her face, seen in the golden lights and green +shadows of the summer-house, had the texture of flowers. Aline had not +known it was in her to hate any one so bleakly as she hated Barrie +MacDonald at this moment; and she hated Somerled too, more than she had +hated him last night. She ached to make him suffer as he was making her +suffer. If only she could--if she but had the power! + +This was the blow she had known would fall: the invitation to Barrie. +Now the worst had happened despite the risk she had run for its +prevention. And Somerled would not meet her eyes. Did this mean that he +not only made light of her arguments, but had found out the falsehood on +which they were based? + +"Of course I say 'yes!'" Barrie was gayly answering. "It seems more than +ever as if I were in a fairy story. Travelling for five days, in a real, +live motor-car, to see my real live mother! Oh, if _Grandma_ knew!" + +"She does know," said Somerled. The words spoke themselves. For once +unable to decide quickly and definitely, he had come back from Hillard +House to Moorhill Farm without making up his mind whether or no to tell +how he had spent most of his morning. He had left chance to settle the +question; and now it was settled. Still he did not look at Mrs. West. He +spoke in a commonplace tone, as if Mrs. MacDonald's knowledge of his +plan included no secret knowledge on his part. + +"How do you know she knows?" asked Barrie eagerly, leaning toward him +with elbows on knees, chin in hand, long red plait failing over +shoulder. "You--you haven't _seen_ her?" + +"I have." + +"You met her looking for me!" + +"No, not that." + +"Then you must have been to Hillard House." + +"Yes. I went there to talk with Mrs. MacDonald about you." + +To save her life, Aline could not have kept down her agonizing blush. +Tears started to her eyes. Though she had been half prepared for this +blow, it fell upon her with an almost mortal shock. Ostentatiously, +Somerled was keeping his eyes off her face; and that was worse than if +he had stared straight into her eyes. Her terrible blush must have +touched the consciousness of a blind man. It called Basil's fascinated +attention from the girl; and so stricken did his sister look that he +would have cried out to ask what was the matter had she not sealed his +lips with a glance of desperate command. + +There was no longer a gram of doubt. Somerled knew that Mrs. West had +lied about the telegram, and everything was changed between them +forever. For a moment Aline told herself that there was no hope, there +could not possibly be any; and yet, if he cared for her, would he not +forgive? Was there no way of saving the situation, and turning the +inevitable change into gain instead of loss? She took a quick and +courageous resolution, as a timid woman may when told that her life +depends upon a dangerous operation, to be performed instantly or not at +all. + +"Mr. Somerled," she said, "can I speak to you--just you and me alone for +a few minutes?" As she made her plea, she rose from the rustic seat +where she had been sitting by her brother's side and opposite Barrie. + +"Of course, with pleasure." Somerled rose too, stiff and alert as a +soldier on duty. She hated this stiffness, this alertness. It showed her +that he was sensitively dreading the scene to come, and hiding +reluctance behind a hard, bright shield. + +"Mrs. West," Barrie spoke out impulsively, "if you don't want me to go +in the car, I won't." + +"Of course I want you to go, silly child." Aline tried to withdraw +sharpness from her voice, but it was there, like the sting of a wasp in +a wound. "Even if I didn't think it wise for some reasons, it isn't my +car, you know, but Mr. Somerled's, and he has a perfect right to invite +any guests he likes. Don't imagine that I'm going to talk to him about +_you_. It's something quite different I have to say." + +Barrie was snubbed into instant silence; but as Aline and Somerled +walked away together they heard her appeal confidentially to Basil, in a +tone of passionate interest: "What _shall I_ do about clothes? I can't +go off in a motor-car with----" The rest was lost in distance. + +The two walked without speaking as far as the big, spouting rose-bush +and the junction where two paths met. Then, choosing the path which +avoided the house, Aline took her life in her hands. + +"You mentioned that telegram to Mrs. MacDonald?" + +"Yes," confessed Somerled. "The subject came up--accidentally." + +"What did she say? I want you to tell me. Afterward I'll explain--why." + +"She said that she hadn't sent any telegram; and I saw at once that you +must have made a mistake." + +"You needn't put it that way to save my feelings!" Aline caught him up, +panting a little, not trying to calm herself. "You knew that I had--told +you a fib. Be honest with me. You must. And I'll be honest with you." + +"I'm glad you're talking to me like this," said Somerled simply, +"because I was puzzled, I admit. I couldn't bear to think----" + +"I know exactly what you couldn't bear to think," she cut in, letting +herself break into a sob. "You thought: 'Mrs. West has told me a +deliberate lie because she's jealous of that child, and doesn't want me +to take her in the car.' Oh, don't deny it. I _know_. And it's true. I +_was_ jealous, I don't dislike the poor little thing. Why should I? +She's too insignificant, too much a child in intellect as well as years. +But--I wanted you to ourselves. It was horrid of me. Only you can't +imagine how I've looked forward to this trip, ever since the day you +asked us to take it with you. Before that I was bored with the idea of +writing the book we've promised our publishers. Our going with you made +all the difference to me. You see, we got to be such friends on +shipboard--that last night. I _am_ a jealous friend. I admit it. And it +was such a blow to have a stranger thrust upon us--to have _you_ thrust +her upon us--when you might have guessed how I felt, if we're friends. +The telegram this morning was from Sir George. It told me that Mrs. Bal +was coming to Edinburgh. Instantly I _knew_ you'd ask that girl to go +with us there in the car--oh, simply in your kindness of heart to a +waif. But I couldn't bear it. I saw everything spoiled--for us all, even +you. I was like a disappointed child. I had to do _something_--and on +the impulse I made up that fib. I'm not sorry even now--I think. Yet I +did mean to tell you, sooner or later, the truth. Honestly, I shouldn't +have kept silence long if you hadn't found out. I'm not a coward when +it's necessary to be brave." + +"I see you're not," said Ian. "You--have paid me a great compliment, and +I thank you." + +"You thank me for what--precisely? For telling a fib because I wanted to +keep my friend to myself--if I could?" + +"For liking me well to enough tell it." + +"For liking you well enough! Yet now I've shown my liking--and my +courage, you like me less." + +"No." + +"You do!" + +"No." + +"Prove that." + +"How do you want me to prove it?" + +Aline's voice was thick. She felt broken, but not beaten yet. "Prove +it," she almost whispered, "by sacrificing that girl to--_our_ +friendship. When we go back to the summer-house, tell her you've changed +your mind; that you'll find out at what place her mother is playing now; +and that after all you think it best to send her there at once. You +_could_ find out easily, you know! And I'd take the child myself if you +liked. I'd do that for you, if you'd do what I ask for me." + +"You're only trying me, Mrs. West," said Somerled. "You don't really +wish me to fail the girl." + +"Fail her! What an exaggeration. She _wants_ to go to her mother." + +"At present she wants to go to her mother by motor-car." + +Anger at his obstinacy and her own failure lost Aline her self-control. +"You mean you want the girl in your motor-car!" Her manner made the +words an accusation. But he took the challenge in silence, walking at +her side, his head slightly bent, his hands in his pockets. Aline darted +a glance at his profile. His jaw looked set, and he had the expression +of a man who would give anything to be smoking a cigarette. + +It was too late to grope her way back to the path of tactfulness, and +the hot blood in her temples made her indifferent to his opinion, to the +future, to everything except her own anger and the need to vent it. + +"Silence gives consent," she said bitterly, seeing her hopes lie broken +at her feet, but not caring much yet. Only, she knew dully that she +would care by and by, care to the sharpest point of agony. "Well, so +much for our friendship! I'm sorry. I would have done a good deal for my +part of it, but there's a limit, isn't there? And friendship can't be +all on one side. I'm afraid, if you want Miss MacDonald in your car, +you'll have to get her another chaperon. I don't engage in that +capacity." + +Now there was just one last loophole open for Somerled. He could protest +that Aline had misunderstood him; that he cared not a hang or anything +of that kind whether Miss Barrie MacDonald went to Edinburgh or Jericho; +that the only thing which mattered was Mrs. West's friendship. If he +said this quickly, she would hold out both hands to him and cry a +little, and beg his pardon for being cross. Then they would forgive each +other and everything would be as before, or better. But Aline waited +breathlessly for an instant, and several more instants: and Somerled +said nothing at all. He would have continued to walk slowly on if she +had not stopped suddenly in the middle of the path, and brought him up +short. Already she was beginning to feel the pain of loss and the +weighty irrevocability of everything. "What are we going to do?" she +panted, her breast rising and falling alluringly. Her cheeks were bright +pink, and her eyes brilliant. Never had she been so near to beauty; but +Somerled faced her with a calm very like sullenness. + +"What are _you_ going to do?" he answered her with a question. + +"What do you want me to do?" + +"I want you and Norman to go motoring with me through Scotland, of +course." + +"Thank you. But I've made my point, and I must stick to it. Basil and I +won't go with you if this girl goes." + +"We've quarrelled, then, have we?" he asked. His eyes were blue as the +ice of glaciers in his brown face. His mouth and chin looked hard as +iron; and never had Aline liked him half as well. + +"Yes, we've quarrelled--if you insist," she said. + +"Then I must no longer intrude on you as your guest." + +"You'll go----" + +"Naturally I'll go. I can't stay in your house--it's the same as your +house--when you think I no longer deserve your friendship. On my side, I +think you're unreasonable; but I may be wrong. Perhaps it's I who am +unreasonable, and can't see it. Anyhow, I shall have to go." + +"I won't have Miss MacDonald in the house a minute after you leave," +Aline said, almost threateningly. + +"Why should you? Her packing won't take long, poor child." + +"You'll have to send her back to her grandmother now," Aline warned him, +in a brief flame of defiance. + +"That's impossible. I wouldn't break my promise, even if Mrs. MacDonald +didn't forbid her the house." + +"She can't very well go alone with you to Edinburgh in your car, I +suppose?" + +"She is going to Edinburgh in my car, but not alone with me. Won't you +go too, Mrs. West, and let us forget all this nonsense?" + +"You call it nonsense? That shows how little you understand me, how +willing you are to spoil everything for the sake of this wretched girl! +Basil and I will simply go back to our original plan, and travel through +Scotland together in a hired car." + +"Luncheon is served, madam," Moore announced, at the turn of the path. + +Luncheon--and the world in ruin! + +"Mr. Somerled and Miss MacDonald will not be lunching," said Aline +icily. + +Moore hid surprise by retiring in decorous haste. + +"Good-bye, Mrs. West," said Somerled. + +He held out his hand, looking at her steadily, but she turned and rushed +away from him, crying. + + + + +BOOK II + +ACCORDING TO BARRIE + + + + +I + + +When the Great Surprise happened, Mr. Norman and I had just been having +a very nice talk. I'd never expected to know a real author, and of +course I wanted to talk about him, but he would talk about me instead. +He asked me questions in quite a different way from his sister's, though +I can't put the difference into words. I can only feel it. I know his +way made me want to answer him, and hers made me want to slap her. That +is queer, because she was not rude, but soft and gentle. + +Among other things that Mr. Norman teased me to tell, was about the +silly stories which I've always been scribbling secretly ever since the +time when I had to print because I hadn't learned to write. He said that +he would like to see them, but I told him they were torn up, even the +last one, which I stuffed into the chimney in my room before I ran away +from Grandma's. Then he said I must write another, and he would help me. +I _was_ excited when he went on to say that people who took to writing +like ducks to water when they were almost babies, without any one +advising them, generally had real talent. This made me wild to begin +writing again at once, and I envied him because he and Mrs. West had +planned out a story all about their motor trip in Scotland. I thought it +would be the greatest fun to write of things that were actually +happening; but he explained that he wasn't going to bring in the real +people or what they did or said, only the scenery and perhaps a few of +the adventures, glorified a little. I told him that I should enjoy even +more writing things exactly as they were in life; then he argued that if +one did it in that way it wouldn't be a story, but a kind of diary. + +Perhaps this _is_ a kind of diary, but I feel as if I must write it, +especially as, because of what happened while we were talking, Mr. +Norman's story can't be written after all. At least it can't be written +about this trip and this beautiful car. + +That prim maid Moore, who looks as if she'd had a rush of teeth to the +head, minced to the door of the summer-house where we were sitting, and +called us to luncheon. Of course that interrupted our conversation, but +Mr. Norman said it must be "continued in our next," like a serial story +and we'd make the most of our time between Carlisle and Edinburgh. +"You'll let me help you all I can, won't you, Miss MacDonald?" he asked. +I said "Yes," and thanked him; and then he exclaimed, "Let's shake hands +on the compact." + +I didn't know precisely what a compact was, but I shook hands, because +most things which begin with "com" are pleasant. Just as we were giving +the last shake, Mr. Somerled appeared, and I felt myself getting red, +because his eyes looked so blue and fierce, as if he were vexed about +something. + +"We're striking a bargain," Mr. Norman explained. "Miss MacDonald has +promised to let me help her up the ladder of fame as an author. How many +days are you going to give us together in your motor-car?" + +"My dear chap, I'm sorry to tell you that Mrs. West and I have just had +a row," said Mr. Somerled, "and she's backed out of the trip." + +I've always laughed when I've heard or read the expression, "his face +fell"; but faces do fall. Mr. Norman's chin seemed suddenly to grow +inches longer. "Backed out of the trip!" he echoed, as if he couldn't +believe his ears. + +"Yes. I asked her to reconsider, but made a mess of it. I fear there's +no hope that she'll change her mind. She says you and she will take your +trip alone." + +I quite wished that he'd invite Mr. Norman to break off from his sister, +but he didn't. Perhaps that would not have been etiquette. I don't know +anything about such things. The etiquette book Heppie lent me to read +once was too uninteresting, worse than Hannah More. + +Mr. Norman's face went on falling. His sister would not have been +complimented if she had seen it. + +"In fact," Mr. Somerled added, "I'm afraid this is good-bye. Mrs. West +doesn't expect"--he stopped and laughed a little--"doesn't expect Miss +MacDonald and me to stay to luncheon." + +I see now that it was horrid of me, but I clapped my hands, and cried +out, "How thrilling!" Mr. Norman turned red. I hope he didn't think I +was ungrateful. It wasn't that at all which made me clap my hands. It +was being coupled with Mr. Somerled in the row, and wondering what was +going to become of us both. + +"It's like Adam and Eve being turned out of Paradise, by the Angel with +the Flaming Sword," I said, to make things better; and perhaps it did, +for they both laughed this time, but it was very queer laughter. If +Heppie had heard _me_ laugh like that, she would have accused me of +hysterics. But it was good for Mr. Norman, and stopped his face from +falling. He stammered regrets and apologies and suggestions, and Mr. +Somerled seemed upset, too, though not excited, like Mr. Norman and me. +He went into the house to collect our belongings, and I _was_ thankful +not to meet Mrs. West. She kept out of our way, but one of the servants +helped Mr. Somerled, who has no man to look after him, and another, not +that horrid Moore, offered to help me, but I said, "No, thank you." I +knew she would make fun of my bundle to the others afterward. All the +maids have stick-out teeth in this house, as if they'd been engaged on +purpose, and somehow it makes them seem formidable, like having ogresses +to do your packing. + +Fancy Mr. Somerled, in the midst of his worry, remembering that I might +want to give money to Mrs. West's servants! He doesn't seem the sort of +man who would think of little things like that, but I begin to see +already that it isn't easy to guess what he is like really, unless he +chooses to let one do so. As we were on the way to the house, he said to +me in a low tone, "Here's an installment of what I owe you for your +brooch," and quickly he slipped a lot of gold and silver into my hand, +making my fingers shut round the coins. + +"But you haven't got the brooch yet," I whispered back. + +"I'll trust you," he said, in an absent-minded way, as already his +thoughts had rushed off to something else. And no wonder! + +I gave a ten-shilling piece to the maid, with a grand air which must +have impressed her, because she treated me almost respectfully after +that, and secretly smuggled down my ugly bundle to the front gate, +where, in a few minutes more, Mr. Somerled's big car came to fetch us +away. Some one must have been sent to fetch it, and there were a few +crumbs on the chauffeur's coat, which made me fancy he'd been called +away in the midst of his luncheon, poor man. He must have been +surprised, but he had that ineffable marble-statue look which I've +noticed on the faces of grand coachmen driving high-nosed old ladies in +glittering carriages through the streets of Carlisle. Heppie says that +the true test of a well-trained servant is to show no emotion in any +circumstances whatever; so I suppose this big chauffeur, whose name is +Vedder, must be very well trained indeed. He is a strange looking man, +but very smart, and, being a Cockney, carefully puts all his "h's" in +the wrong place. If he forgets to do this, he goes back and pronounces +the word over again. He travelled to America from London to be Mr. +Somerled's coachman years ago, and then he learned how to drive a +motor-car and be a mechanic, because he couldn't bear to have his master +tearing over the earth with any one else. Mr. Somerled told me all this, +coming from the railway station, when he was bringing me to Moorhill +Farm. + +Mr. Norman saw us off, and was very cast down as Mr. Somerled's luggage +was put on the car, but he was so loyal to his sister, that he would not +say much except, "I'm sorry!" over and over again. + +I was afraid that Mr. Somerled would drive (as he told me the night +before he liked driving his own car) and leave me sitting alone in the +immense gray automobile, which has a glass front and a top you can put +up or down. But to my joy he got in beside me, and let Vedder take the +wheel in those large, well-made hands which carry out the marble-statue +idea. I had no notion where we were going; and Vedder drove so slowly +that I guessed he was expecting further instructions. + +As soon as we were safely away from the gate I asked the question +burning on my tongue: "You _won't_ take me to Grandma?" + +"I thought you trusted me as I trusted you," was the only answer Mr. +Somerled condescended to make. + +Suddenly I saw myself a selfish pig. "I do trust you," I insisted. "But +I _ought_ to want to go back of my own accord, rather than let you give +up--things--for me. I'm nothing to you----" + +"You're Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald's daughter, and--er--a fellow-being." + +"If it comes to that, I suppose a worm's a fellow-being. But this worm +has turned, and would as soon cross the path of a perfectly ravenous +early bird as go to its grandmother. So I won't do that, even for your +sake, though you've been so kind; but I wish you'd drop me at the +station where you found me, and let me travel to Edinburgh by train. I +can wait there for mother----" + +"Nonsense!" he broke in; a word he seems devoted to, as he has already +used it several times to pound down some suggestion of mine as if he +were breaking it with a hammer. He has the air of a man used to getting +his own way with the world, anyhow with women, and I can't think it good +for him; though Mrs. West's one idea apparently is to do what will +please him, not fussily, but gently and sweetly; so that must be what +men like. I should pity him if he lived with Grandma! I suppose it is my +living with her for so long which makes me feel like going against +strong, dictatorial people, just to see what they will do. With him, +that plan would be exciting. It is ungrateful of me, but I long to +contradict him about something, it doesn't matter what, and try my +naughty little strength against his, like a headstrong, conceited mouse +pitting itself against a lion. + +I had no inclination to contradict or fight with Mr. Norman. But he has +pathetic, wistful eyes, asking for kindness, whereas Mr. Somerled's look +bored with things, as if he needed waking up. + +I thought these thoughts while he went on to remind me more gently, that +he'd promised to motor me to Edinburgh, and that he had quite a strong +weakness for not breaking promises. + +"But I give you back this one unbroken, not even cracked," said I. "So +that's different." + +"I don't choose to take it back," said he. "You'll humiliate me if you +refuse to go to Edinburgh in my car--with a competent chaperon, of +course." + +"A chaperon! My gracious!" I couldn't help laughing. "Aren't you +chaperon enough--a great big, grown-up man?" + +"I suppose you think me very old," said he; "and so I am, compared to +you; but I'm afraid--no, I'm _not_ afraid--to tell you the truth, I'm +extremely glad that I haven't come yet to the chaperon age." + +"What is the chaperon age for a man?" I inquired. + +"Seventy." + +"And you won't be that for a long time," I added dreamily, wondering how +old he really was. + +For an instant his eyes waked up thoroughly, and he looked as if he were +in a fury; then he burst out laughing. But his brown face was rather red +when he asked if I would mind mentioning my honest impression of his +age. + +I thought a minute, and then said that perhaps he might be--well, nearly +thirty. He laughed again, and seemed relieved, but wanted to know if +thirty struck me as old or young. I didn't know what to answer, not to +be impolite, so I said presently that I had always thought of thirty as +being the year when you were not middle-aged yet, though anything that +happened to you _after_ your thirtieth birthday couldn't matter. +"Still," I went on, "you look young. Only, there's something important +and decided about you, as if you must have been grown up for a long +time." + +"Not to deceive you, I'm thirty-four," he said. "Now, no doubt, you'll +consider me a sort of Ancient Mariner. Perhaps that's all the better." + +"Looking at you, I can't, even if it would be better," I had to confess. +"You're so alive--so strong, so--almost violent. I can't somehow imagine +that you've ever been younger, or that you can ever grow older." + +Just then, when we'd forgotten the chaperon part of our conversation, +the car slowed down and Vedder made a kind of signal of distress. Mr. +Somerled put his head out through the open window, whereupon I think +Vedder must have reminded him that we were coming into town, wanting to +know what he was to do next. In came Mr. Somerled's smooth black head +again, and he glared at me in a kind of amused desperation. "You must +know some one who would act as your chaperon for a few days, at a good +salary--sent home by train when we'd done with her. That ex-governess or +nurse of yours, you told me about." + +"Oh, Heppie wouldn't be found _dead_ leaving Grandma," said I. "Not that +she loves her. Neither does a mouse love a cat, when it won't try to +escape. It keeps running back and being polite with its eyes bulging +out." + +"There must be somebody else. Think. Has your grandmother any friends?" + +"Dear me, no. She'd scorn it. Only a few acquaintances and a relation or +two, whom she snubs when they come to see her and scolds if they don't. +They wouldn't--but, oh, perhaps Mrs. James _might_. I wonder?" + +"Where does Mrs. James live?" + +I told him quickly that it was in a little sort of cul-de-sac street +called Flemish Passage, not far from English Street, where Heppie and I +sometimes look at the shops; and I was going on to say more about it and +about Mrs. James, but before I'd time to draw another breath, Mr. +Somerled grabbed up a speaking tube and was talking through it. "Find +Flemish Passage near English Street, and I'll tell you where to stop," +he addressed the back of Vedder's massive head. + +"It's an old curiosity shop, and she keeps it," I hurried to explain, +but that didn't seem to matter to Mr. Somerled. + +"I hope you like the lady's society," was all he said. + +"I love her, and she's an angel, but a very peculiar angel; and Grandma +doesn't call her a lady, so perhaps you won't," I broke the news to him. + +"I daresay your grandmother wouldn't have called my mother a lady," he +replied coolly. "She was an angel, and the cleverest, most gracious +woman I ever knew or expect to know." I did like him for saying this. +And something told me that, in spite of his domineering way with me, he +wouldn't be one to put on high and mighty airs with Mrs. James, as +Grandma does. + +English Street, of course, is the main street of Carlisle and runs north +to William Rufus's Castle that stands looking over the moors toward the +border, eight miles away. Grandma never would let Heppie take me into +the Castle, because it's turned into barracks now, and swarming with +soldiers. She said that her father called soldiers Men of Blood, and +seemed to think that ought to put me off from wishing to go in, but it +didn't a bit, rather the other way round. I love soldiers in books, and +should like to meet some. + +It was near the old Citadel of Henry VIII, where the towers have been +turned into court-houses, that we had to turn off, and it is there that +English Street really begins. It didn't take Vedder long to find Flemish +Passage--which Mrs. James says is named after the Flemish masons William +Rufus brought over to make the Castle, men who settled down afterward to +live in Carlisle. Maybe there were Flemish houses on the spot in those +days--who knows? I love to think there were; and though there isn't a +trace of anything half so ancient as William, Flemish Passage can't have +changed much from what it must have been in the Middle Ages. Even the +people who live there are mostly old, and as the big gray car turned +into the small, quiet cul-de-sac, elderly heads appeared at antique +windows of all the medieval houses. I should think nothing so exciting +had happened in Flemish Passage at all events since Carlisle surrendered +to Prince Charlie. The car looked enormous, as if it were a dragon +swelling to twice its size in rage because it knew there would be no +room for it to turn round when it wanted to get out. + +Mrs. James house used to be like the others till she had the two front +windows thrown into one, and took to keeping a shop. The way she +happened to do that was just as it was with Miss Mattie in that darling +"Cranford" I found with father's name in it; only Mrs. James, of course, +was married and Miss Mattie wasn't. I wanted to tell Mr. Somerled about +her, and how her husband, a distant cousin of Grandma's, was the doctor +that couldn't cure my father. Mrs. James herself wasn't a cousin, and +wasn't even of the north, so Grandma never thought of her, as she has no +opinion of southern people. Mrs. James was Devonshire, and (in Grandma's +eyes) a _mésalliance_ for Richard James. He lodged with the Devonshire +girl's mother when he was a medical student in London, Heppie told me +once; and even Heppie puts on superior airs with Mrs. James, whom she +considers a feckless creature. I have an idea Heppie knew the doctor +before he met his wife, and he was her One Romance; so naturally she +thinks the "James Mystery" wouldn't have happened if he had married her +instead. Of course, though, it could never have occurred to _any one_ to +marry Heppie, whereas Mrs. James must always have been a darling and +very pretty in her fluffy way. Grandma says the "James Mystery" (as it +seemed it was called in the newspapers at the time, when I was very +small) never was a mystery except for "fools or sensation-mongers." I +heard her speak those very words to poor Mrs. James, who has always +called on Grandma once a month, ever since I can remember, though +Grandma does nothing but make herself disagreeable and say things to +hurt Mrs. James feelings, knowing that her one dream of happiness is in +believing her husband still lives. + +Nobody else believes this, Heppie has told me; because Doctor James had +a motive for not wishing to live, "apart from any disappointment in his +home life." After he didn't cure my father there was another case which +he was supposed not to have understood. I don't know exactly what +happened, for my questions weren't encouraged; but he operated on the +person when he ought not, or else didn't operate when he ought; anyhow +the person was a high personage, so there was trouble, and then might +have been a legal inquiry if Doctor James hadn't gone one day to +Seascale, and from there disappeared. His hat was found on the beach, +and a coat, and though his body was never recovered, all the world +except his wife felt sure he had drowned himself on purpose. As for her, +she is perfectly certain that he is alive, and she hopes to this day +that some time he will come to her, or else send for her to go to him. + +He disappeared or died, or whatever it was, seventeen years ago when I +was almost a baby; and he and Mrs. James weren't so very young even +then: but because he admired what he called her "baby face," she has +always tried desperately to keep her looks that he mayn't find her +changed when (she doesn't say "if") they meet again. It is the most +pathetic thing I ever heard of, because in spite of all the troubles she +has had, enough to make her old twice over, she has never lost gayety or +courage. Grandma and Heppie think it wicked and frivolous of her not to +"bow to God's will," but I think she is a marvel, and I love every +little funny way and trick she has. + +I don't know Mrs. James well enough to call her my friend, because I +don't often see her, and we've never been left alone together when she's +called on Grandma; Heppie took me to her house only once, just after +she'd grown poor through the breaking of some savings-bank, and turned +her little drawing-room into an antique shop. I fancy Heppie wanted to +go simply to spy out the nakedness of the land and satisfy curiosity in +Grandma. But I've never forgotten that day, and how brave and bright +Mrs. James was, selling off the pretty old things which she had loved: +heirlooms of her family and her husband's; old clocks, old vases, old +ornaments, and jewels, old china and glass, old samplers and bits of +embroidery or brocade, old furniture, old pictures and transparencies, +and everything of value except old books, which she adored because his +library had been her husband's life. It was clever of her, I think, to +group the treasures together in the little drawing-room with its oak +panelling and beams, its uneven, polished oak floor, and the two +diamond-paned windows which she enlarged and threw into one. It is not +like a shop, but just a charming room crowded full of lovely things, and +every one of them for sale, even the chairs. She wrote cards of +advertisement which the hotel people let her pin up in their halls or +offices, because they respected her pluck, and had liked Doctor James. +Americans and other travellers saw the advertisements, and went to her +house; so by and by Mrs. James made a success with her experiment. When +most of her own antiquites were sold, she could afford to buy others, +just as good or better, to take their places. She never made big sums of +money; but maybe that was because she had debts of her husband's to pay +off, which she kept secret. Besides, she is so generous and kind that +she would give good prices for things in buying, and ask small ones in +selling. + +"Mrs. James: Antiquities;" it says in gilt letters over the door on +which you can still see the mark left by the professional name-plate of +Doctor James. His wife had that taken off before she opened her shop, +because she felt that her going into trade might seem to discredit "his +honoured name." + +That is her great watchword: "his honoured name." I've often heard her +repeat it to Grandma, who invariably snorts and says something to +dishearten or humiliate the poor humble darling who thinks so much of +the Hillard and James families, and so little of herself. + +Opening the door, which rings a bell of its own accord, you walk +straight into the drawing-room, or hall. There's an oak screen which +cuts off your view to the left, and gives an opportunity for surprises; +and straight ahead at the back is a lovely old carved stairway, that +goes up steeply, with two turns and two platforms, where stand tall, +ancient clocks. Behind this hall or drawing-room, turned into a shop, is +a tiny parlour, where Mrs. James spends her few free hours, eats her +tiny, lonesome meals, and faithfully reads nearly every book in her +husband's library, so that she may be an intelligent companion for him +if he comes back. The walls of the parlour are covered with his books, +on shelves reaching up nearly as high as the low-beamed ceiling. Behind +the parlour is the kitchen, which looks into a tiny garden with one +lovely apple tree in it; and a back stairway almost like a ladder leads +to what used to be servants' rooms. Now Mrs. James sleeps in one; and +next door is the young girl, rescued from something or other by the +Salvation Army, who is her only servant. The front part of the +"upstairs," which you reach by the lovely staircase in the shop, is +occupied by a curate-lodger. Heppie says Mrs. James can afford to give +up having a lodger now, and that she keeps him on only because she's +stingy; or else because she thinks it "distinguished" to have some +connection with "Church." But I'm sure it's really because she's so kind +and good-natured, that she can't bear to turn the curate away from rooms +which have been his only home for years. + +She _was_ surprised to see me get out of an automobile with a man! I +know she did see me get out, because she opened the door herself, +exclaiming in her soft Devonshire voice, which has never been hardened +by the north, "Why, Barribel, my _dear_ child, can I _believe_ my eyes?" + +She throws emphasis on a great many words when she talks, which Heppie +says is gushing, and not reserved enough for a true lady; but I like it +when Mrs. James does it, because it sounds cordial, and more interested +in you than any other person's way of talking which I ever heard. + +I introduced Mr. Somerled, and hurried in the next breath to explain +that he was a MacDonald, because that made him seem like a relation, and +she wouldn't think to begin with that I was with a perfect stranger. But +as soon as I said "Somerled," she knew all about him, not only the +history of the first Somerled, which, of course, she _would_ know, but +that this one was a great celebrity. _I_ shouldn't have known that, if +Mr. Norman hadn't mentioned it: and Moore with the teeth told me, too, +that she'd heard Mrs. West say he was "a millionaire." I'm not sure if +Mrs. James knew about the millions, and even if she did, they wouldn't +seem half as important to her as his pictures, which she began to chat +about. Of course they're not as important, because anybody can have +millions by accident, but they can have genius only from what they are +in themselves. I felt more than ever how wonderful it was that he should +be so good to me; a person so flattered and run after; but all the same +I _couldn't_ make myself feel in awe of him. He seemed to me just a Man: +and I wanted as much as ever to see what he would do if I took my own +way and went against him. + +Mrs. James invited us into the house in her cordial, emphatic way, while +our coming and our being together were still mysteries which must have +puzzled her wildly. I saw by the blue flash in Mr. Somerled's eyes that +the artist in him admired the shop-drawing-room, and I thought from his +manner that he had taken a fancy to Mrs. James herself. I am so used to +her looks, from seeing her once a month ever since I can remember, that +I can hardly judge what she is like: and I suppose she _is_ peculiar. +But why shouldn't she try to keep young for the sake of her dream? I +think it's romantic and beautiful, and all one with her efforts to +become the intellectual equal of her lost husband. Grandma and Heppie +sneer after Mrs. James has been and gone, at the long words she uses, +and condemn her for wanting to deceive people into thinking she's much +younger than she is. But that is because they've no romance in them, and +can't understand her true motive. + +Her figure is like a young girl's, though perhaps a little stiffer and +less rounded. She is short, and has the tiniest waist in the world, so +tiny that it must hurt her to breathe, but that is her chief pride, +because "the doctor" (as she always calls him) fell in love at first +sight with her slender waist; and she has never let it measure an inch +more than it did then. A big man could span it with his hands. Perhaps +Doctor James could. She dresses her hair now as he liked best seventeen +years ago, though the fringe looks old-fashioned and odd. Grandma says +her hair is bleached, otherwise it couldn't have kept its yellow colour +at her age, forty-five. But it shines and is a lovely golden. She takes +the greatest pains in doing it, too, even when she's in a hurry on a +cold winter's morning, because she's never sure "the doctor" mayn't +appear that day, to give her a surprise. It would be too bad if, after +all these years, he should walk in and find her not looking her best! + +She has features like a doll's, with large dark blue eyes, and high +arched eyebrows which give her an innocent, expectant expression. Heppie +says she blacks them; but Heppie has no eyebrows at all, so it's +difficult for her to believe in other people's. + +When Mrs. James came to meet us at the door, she had a ladies' paper in +her hand, open at a page where it told you in big letters, "How to be +Beautiful Forever," so I suppose it's true, as Heppie says, that she's +always looking for recipes to keep young. She had on a lavender muslin +dress, very becoming to her fair complexion, which would be perfect if +she hadn't a very few little veins showing in the pink of her cheeks, +and some faint, smiling-lines round her eyes, which you see only if you +stare rudely as Grandma does, to "take down Mrs. James's vanity." +Lavender was the doctor's favourite colour, and she invariably wears one +shade or another of it. She never would go into mourning for him, as +people thought she ought to do when he disappeared. + +I explained everything, talking so fast that I got out of breath, while +Mr. Somerled walked round the room looking at the curiosities. I was +glad no customers came in to interrupt; but luckily there wasn't much +danger at that hour, as it wasn't yet half-past two, and people had +scarcely finished their luncheons. As I talked, she gave little +exclamations almost like the cooing of a dove; and the most desperate +thing in our story seemed to be, in her opinion, the fact that we hadn't +lunched. + +She insisted on giving us eggs and apple-tart and coffee in her own +dining-room, and she let us come into the kitchen and help cook. Mr. +Somerled looked quite young and boyish. We all three laughed a good +deal. Not a word did Mr. Somerled say about my going to Edinburgh or the +chaperon business until we'd finished our picnic meal, and he had +selected several of the best and most expensive things in the shop for +himself. After that, how could Mrs. James refuse him what he called "a +great favour" even if she'd wished to say no, which she didn't. On the +contrary, she was enchanted. Everything had worked together to make her +going possible. The curate had gone off for a holiday, giving her +permission to use his two rooms if she liked. I could have them till we +started; and she would ask a friend from next door to attend to the +shop, a nice girl who often helped her, if she were ill or had to go +away on a "curiosity quest." "Just think!" she exclaimed, "I've never +been to Scotland, though it's only eight miles distant, and I've pined +to go all my life. You'll find that I've a good book-knowledge of the +country, if that's any use, for my dear husband's favourite pastime has +been the study of history. Since he--left Carlisle, I've devoted much +time to following his researches." + +The long words do come so nicely from her pretty little mouth, and she +shapes them with such care, that they seem to issue forth one by one +like neatly formed birds being let out of a cage. She is making a +speciality of pronunciation, and what she sometimes speaks of as +"refined wording." She was a farmer's daughter in Devonshire. + +It was arranged that the girl from next door should be called in at +once, in order that Mrs. James and I might go and buy things. I was rich +on the proceeds of the brooch; for Mr. Somerled counted out the rest of +the money on the parlour table; and Mrs. James abetted him in saying +that fifty pounds was not a penny too much to lend on such a treasure. +But it does seem wonderful! Mrs. James herself must have felt flush +after making such good sales, and her eyes lit at the thought of a motor +hat and coat--they seemed exciting purchases. But when Mr. Somerled +mentioned the fact that mother is one of the best-dressed women in the +world, the little woman looked frightened. "I shan't dare take the +responsibility of choosing an outfit for the child, then," said she +nervously. (I do wish people wouldn't call me "child," though it's nicer +from Mrs. James than Mrs. West!) "Supposing she shouldn't make the +correct impression? Won't you be persuaded to help us, sir, with your +advice about the most important articles?" + +Somehow I feel that Mr. Somerled hates "sir" as much as I hate "child." +I expected him to make an excuse, that he knew nothing about such +things--or "articles," according to Mrs. James. But instead, he snapped +at the suggestion and looked as pleased as Punch. I suppose he doesn't +want me to be a fright and disgrace his car on the journey. + +When Miss Hubbell had come in from the next house, smelling of some +lovely sort of jam which she and her mother had been making, off we +three went in the gray automobile, Mrs. James trying not to look +self-conscious and proud, nor to give little jumps and gasps when she +thought we were going to run over creatures. + +It is many years since she has been to London. I think she was there on +her wedding trip and never since: and besides that expedition, Exeter +and Carlisle are her two largest cities: but, in order to impress the +great artist, she patronized Carlisle, saying we "mustn't hope for +London shops." I longed to catch his eye, because I'm sure he sees +everything that is funny; but it would have been horrid to laugh at the +kind darling, trying to be a woman of the world. + +In the end, it was Mr. Somerled and I who chose everything, even Mrs. +James's motor coat and hat, for she was too timid to decide; and if she +had decided, it would have been to select all the wrong things. I had to +get my dresses ready-made, because of starting for Scotland next +morning, and it was funny to see how difficult Mr. Somerled was to +please. One would have thought he took a real interest in my clothes; +but of course it was owing to his artistic nature. We found a blue +serge--I wouldn't have believed, after my deadly experience, that blue +serge could be so pretty--and a coat and skirt of creamy cloth; and an +evening frock of white chiffon, I think the girl called it. Actually it +has short sleeves above my elbows, and quite a low neck, that shows +where my collar-bone used to be when I was thinner than I am now. It +seems an epoch to have a dress like that. It was Mr. Somerled who picked +it out from among others, and insisted on my having it, though, simple +as it looked, it was terribly expensive. Mrs. James thought I couldn't +afford it, as I had so many things to do with my fifty pounds, but Mr. +Somerled brushed aside her objections in that determined way he has even +in little things. He said that it would be money in his pocket, as an +artist, to paint me in this gown; and that I must sit for him in it. He +would call his picture "The Girl in the White Dress"; and as he'd show +it in London and New York and get a big price, of course he must be +allowed to pay for the dress. Mrs. James seemed doubtful about the +propriety, but he drew his black eyebrows together, and that made her +instantly quite sure he must be right. When she'd agreed to my having +the dress on those terms, she couldn't--as he said--stick at a mere hat, +so he bought me a lovely one to wear with the creamy cloth. He suggested +that I should keep it in the "tire box" while motoring--a huge round +thing on the top of the car. + +"It is just like having a kind uncle, isn't it, my dear?" asked Mrs. +James. But I didn't feel that Mr. Somerled was the sort of man I could +_ever_ think of as a kind uncle, and I said so before I'd stopped to +wonder if it sounded rude. Luckily he didn't seem offended. + +I am writing this in the curate's sitting-room upstairs in Mrs. James's +house. It is night, and we are to start to-morrow morning very early, +because I happened to mention that I'd never seen the inside of Carlisle +Castle, or put my nose into the Cathedral. Grandma does not approve of +cathedrals, and their being historic makes no difference. Mr. Somerled +said that we could visit both, and then "slip over the border." Oh, that +border! How I have thought of it, as if it were the door of Romance; and +so it is, because it is the door of Scotland. I am afraid it must be a +dream that I shall cross at last, to see the glories on the other side, +and find the lovely lady who to me is Queen of all Romance--my mother. +Still, I've pinched myself several times, and instead of waking up in my +old room at Hillard House each time I've found myself with my eyes +staring wide open, in the curate's room, which has a lot of books in it +and a smell of tobacco smoke, and on the mantelpiece Mrs. James's +wedding wreath as an ornament under a glass case. + +Mr. Somerled has gone to a hotel; but he stayed to supper with us, and +Mrs. James brought out all her nicest things. It was much pleasanter +than supper last night at Moorhill Farm, though Mrs. West had lovely +things to eat. I am glad I shall never see Moore again! But I should +like to see Mr. Norman. I could feel toward him as if he were a brother. +But I don't know what to say about my feeling toward Mr. Somerled. I +think of him as of a knight, come to the rescue of a forlorn damsel in +an enchanted forest. After delivering the damsel from one +dragon--Grandma--he is going to take her away with another quite +different sort of a dragon; a well-trained, winged dragon, which people +who don't know any better believe to be only a motor-car. + + + + +II + + +I don't know how I dared with such a man, but I talked foolish fairy +talk to Mr. Somerled, _alias_ the Knight, this morning, and he answered +gravely in the same language. I should be doing him a great service, he +said, if I could lead him back to fairyland, because he used to know the +way, but had lost it long ago. He had given up the hope of finding it +again, and until the other day had feared that all the fairies were +dead. + +"If you find fairyland, it ought to be while the heather moon shines," I +told him. "But I shan't have much time to help you look for it, because +in five days you'll be leaving me with mother, and travelling on alone. +You must search for the key to the rainbow wherever you go; because, you +know, it might be _anywhere_, and the light of the heather moon would +show it gleaming in the grass, or under a flower, or even in the middle +of the road before your eyes." + +He looked at me in an odd, almost wistful way, and I couldn't look away +from him, though I wanted to, for it was as if he were reading my inmost +Me--using my eyes for windows, of which I couldn't draw the curtains. + +"_You_ might find the key, if you haven't got it already," he said. +"Anyhow, I can't find it without your help, But no matter. Perhaps I +shouldn't know what to do with it if I did, now I've grown old and +disillusioned." + +Then I answered, because I couldn't help it under the spell of his eyes. +"You're not old or disillusioned. You're a Knight: and knights who +rescue damsels are always young and brave." + +Before I saw him, if any one had told me a person of over thirty was not +middle-aged, I should have thought it nonsense. But now I see that even +_thirty-four_ is not old. It seems exactly the right age for a man. + +"If you dub me Knight, I christen you Princess," said he, laughing as if +embarrassed, yet pleased. "Because, I confess I wandered near enough to +the border last night, to think of you as a princess who'd been shut up +in a glass retort, as all really nice princesses were in my day, in +fairyland. Now the retort has been opened, though the princess believed +it to be hermetically sealed----" + +"It was the knight who opened it!" I interrupted him. "But did you +_really_ go near to the border?" + +"The border of fairyland." + +"Oh! I meant Scotland. But, after all, to me it seems much the same +thing. Doesn't it to you?" + +"I haven't thought of it so for a good many years," he said. "Yet it +might be----" + +I lost the rest, because Mrs. James came in, ready to start. We had been +standing together in the little sitting-room at the back of the house +while she gave last directions to Miss Hubbell. And I had on my new +serge, of course, with a blouse more fit for an angel than Barrie +MacDonald; and a gray coat and a gray hood with a long gray veil +floating out from it--all the same gray as the car, and chosen to match. +I couldn't help thinking, when I put on the hood before the curate's +looking-glass, that in spite of a green crack across my face and one +purple splash on my eye (it's a very antique glass, not used to girls' +complexions) I really wasn't so bad. Oh, if only mother is pleased! But +of course all mothers must be pleased with their children. One reads a +great deal in books about mother's love. + +We bought two small trunks yesterday, one for Mrs. James and one for me, +of the same gray colour as our cloaks, both made especially for a +motor-car: and Mr. Somerled has a gray trunk too, smaller than mine, +also a thing he calls a suit-case. This morning he brought us each a +present of a little gray handbag, fitted with brushes and combs and a +mirror, and tiny bottles for eau-de-cologne. My fittings look like gold, +though I suppose of course they are only gilded; and Mrs. James's are +silver. She thought it would hurt his feelings if we refused to accept +his presents, though she was brought up to believe that a lady must +never take anything from a gentleman except books, sweets, and flowers. +However, she says she has often found it difficult to conduct life +according to rules of etiquette, as there are so many complications +they've forgotten to put in. + +It was only half-past eight when we started, for we wanted to see the +Cathedral and the Castle. We were going to the Cathedral first, and on +the way we had to pass a big motor garage which has always made my heart +beat just to see, whenever Heppie and I have come to town shopping. I +used to wonder what it would be like to sail through the wide doorway in +a car of my own. Poor me, in my "glass retort," with little chance, it +seemed, of escaping from the dragon to travel in any sort of mobile +except the pillow-mobile into which I used often, to jump at night, and +flash away to far-off countries of dreamland. + +Now, poking its large nose out of that garage was a gray motor (but not +so nice a gray as ours) conducted by a wisp of a chauffeur. He was +driving two passengers, and I bounced on the springy back seat of our +car with surprise as I recognized them. Down went my head mechanically +in as polite a bow as if I hadn't been turned out of her house by Mrs. +West, though, when I realized what I was doing, I was afraid she might +pretend not to know me. It must make one feel such a worm to be ignored +when one has just grinned and ducked! But I needn't have feared. Mr. +Norman took off his cap as impressively as if I were really the princess +of the knight's fairy dream; and Mrs. West bowed, with a sweet, sad look +first at Mr. Somerled, then finishing up with me--just the reproachful, +yet resigned martyr-look a queen ought to give a crowd of rebellious +subjects on her way to the scaffold where their cruelty had sent her. + +Of course, if I had to show this to Mr. Norman, and get him to criticise +my writing as he offered to do, I couldn't put in such things; so +perhaps it's as well I shall have to worry on alone. + +Mr. Somerled, who was driving our car (with Vedder by his side, tooting +a musical horn), took off his cap as beautifully as Mr. Norman did, +without upsetting the steering, though there seemed to be a hundred +things and creatures of all descriptions in front of the motor's big +bright nose at that particular moment. I'd never realized until then +what a crowded, busy place Carlisle is; because it seems that you have a +different set of emotions and impressions especially for use in +motor-cars, and you _have_ to use them there, whether you like or not. I +suppose they lay quiescent in people for thousands of years, between the +epoch of exciting prehistoric beasts and automobiles; but now they come +into play often enough to make up for lost time. Not that I was afraid +in the car, even at first: only it did seem as if all the things that +moved on the face of the earth were aiming directly at us, to say +nothing of what we ourselves were doing to them. Luckily for me, I +trusted Mr. Somerled; and perhaps Mrs. James hadn't quite arrived at +that blissful state, or else she was naturally more timid, for she held +on so fast to the arm of the seat that she tore a glove, and had a +strained expression about her eyes and nostrils, though she beamed in a +painstaking way whenever she caught me looking at her. + +"Who is that pretty blond lady and the handsome dark young man you just +bowed to?" she asked, when we had passed the gray car that was like a +bad copy of ours. + +I told her that the man was Mr. Basil Norman and the lady was Mrs. West, +who had quarrelled with Mr. Somerled yesterday for some reason he +wouldn't explain, but probably because she couldn't be bothered with me. + +"Poor thing, she looked ready to cry!" sighed Mrs. James. "By this time, +I dare say, she's sorry for what she did, and praying for a chance to +make up." + +It would be Christian to pray for it too; but if making up means having +her in this car, I should have to pound the prayer into my heart like a +nail. + +There was no luggage in the other car, so I guessed that they were +trying it, to see whether they might like to hire it for their trip. +And, in spite of Mr. Norman being so kind and different from his sister, +I couldn't help hoping that they might begin with another part of +Scotland from ours. + +I kept on thinking of them as we wound through the traffic, though dear +Mrs. James continued to talk in an approving way, suited to my +intelligence, about Carlisle, and what a wonderful place it was, and how +proud we ought to be of it. How wide and well-built the new streets +were, and how interesting the old ones! How good for the complexion were +the winds that blew from the great moorland spaces beyond the town! I +hadn't thought much about all that myself, but certainly Carlisle is +romantic as a city, because in history you see how it has always been a +solid bulwark of the English, against which tides of invasion dashed +themselves in vain--a sort of watch-tower, whence England gazed out +across the border where danger lay in wait. I can't help turning my mind +to the romantic side of things, though it may be silly; but, after all, +it's just as real as the other side. Both are _there_, and you can +choose which you like to have for your own, as I said to Mr. Somerled. + +By and by we came to the Cathedral. I had to confess that I'd never been +in, but I didn't mention Grandma's prejudice against cathedrals. I'd +never pined to see the inside as I should if the outside were tall and +graceful and gray, instead of dumpy and red--an ochre-red colour which +is interesting only when the sun shines on it, or when wet and sparkling +with rain, in the midst of its lovely old trees. I almost gasped with +joy and surprise, however, when we entered, for the interior is +wonderful. It is as if the builders had had in mind an allegory about a +plain body and a glorious soul. + +Who would have thought that Mr. Somerled would remember so much history +of this northern country, after living, since he grew up, in America, +and making fame and fortune there? Mrs. James thinks that he even talks +like an American. She is a good judge, because more than half the +customers of her curiosity shop are Americans, and they chat with her +about all sorts of things. She reads her husband's history books, in +order to give him an agreeable surprise when he comes back, and the +knowledge she picks up is money in her pocket, because she can pour out +floods of information upon inquiring tourists. When she's kindly told +them all about the Romans in general and the Augustan Legion in +particular, and the Museum, and William Rufus's Castle; about the +Cathedral having been robbed of most of its nave to rebuild the city +walls in 1644, and Sir Walter Scott being married to his pretty French +bride there (or rather in St. Mary's Church, which was tacked on to it +in those days), and so on, Americans, and even canny Scots, can't sneak +out of her shop without buying something. + +I loved the immense simplicity of that Norman nave, with its huge +crumpled arches crushed into curving waves by the long-ago collapse of +the foundations and the strain of centuries on the masonry. It was a +startling contrast to go from the Norman part into the choir, all a mass +of carving and decoration, with its vast east window of jewel-like +thirteenth-century glass, which Mr. Somerled pronounced finer even than +the windows of York and Gloucester cathedrals. + +It seems that, although he hasn't been in Scotland since he left +seventeen years ago (vowing never to return until something or other +happened), he has been in England several times meanwhile, and travelled +all over Europe. He pretended that he wasn't at all excited about +crossing the border after these many years' exile, but when I cried out +that I couldn't believe him so commonplace and dull, he opened his eyes +wide, as surprised as if I'd boxed his ears. Mrs. James whispered that I +had been rude; and when I stopped to think, I realized how unlike Mrs. +West I had been. She is so gracious and complimentary to Mr. Somerled, +never saying anything she thinks he might dislike. But he heard Mrs. +James's whisper and said, "You must let her alone, please, my Lady +Chaperon, because I have a sort of idea she is going to dig me up by the +roots, and hang me up to air, and altogether do me a lot of good in the +end." + +They both knew much more about the Cathedral than I did, but even I knew +something, because there was a book of father's which I had read. So, +when they'd explained that the beautiful pink columns and the painted +oak screens looked new because Cromwell's men whitewashed everything +when they stabled horses in the Cathedral, and the white wasn't scraped +off till comparatively lately, long after the Cathedral was a prison in +1745, I told them something they hadn't learned, or had forgotten. I was +proud to have a story about Bruce coming to Carlisle to take his oath of +allegiance, before the great repentance, and hating the Cathedral ever +afterward. + +Even the Castle doesn't look as splendid from outside as it really is. +It's like an enormous box, a good deal battered and patched, containing +a kingdom's treasures. But of course I didn't know about the treasures +until I had been in. + +I had set my heart on seeing the place, because, as I said to Mr. +Somerled, I may never come back to Carlisle once I begin to live with +mother and go about with her. It was a blow to be told at the entrance +gate where the public enters (and where there ought to be a moat, but +isn't) that the Castle was closed for repairs. Even a grown-up man like +Mr. Somerled, who has seen everything, looked disappointed; but I +suppose he couldn't fight his way in against the power of England; and +we should have turned ignominiously away if it hadn't been for Mrs. +James. "You are surely not aware," said she in the aristocratic, +long-worded way she has when she thinks of living up to the doctor (and +when she isn't in earshot of Grandma) "of the distinguished identity of +this gentleman. This"--with a wave of her tiny hand--"is the great +portrait painter, Somerled. I will not introduce him as 'Mr.,' for he is +as far above that designation as Shakespeare." + +The poor wretch who had refused us was flabbergasted. "Excuse me a +minute, mum!" he muttered, and darted off to return with a young officer +before "the Great Somerled" had time to remonstrate. But, instead of +devoting undivided attention to the celebrity who must be appeased, the +officer looked at me, and we recognized each other. His face changed, +and I know mine did, because my cheeks felt as if some one had pinched +them. No wonder, because this had been my ideal for almost a year, +before I saw the photographs in shop windows of Robert Loraine, and I +had dreamed several times that I was engaged to him, with a gorgeous +diamond ring, and afterward that I was his widow in one of those sweet +Marie Stuart caps. It almost seemed as if he might see the cap in my +eyes, so I hurried to look down, and appear as calm as if I had never +met him in the street when out walking with Heppie. Once I dropped my +handkerchief, like ladies in books (only I did it on purpose, which they +never do if heroines, not villainesses), and he ran after us and picked +it up. That was, of course, the only time he ever spoke; but, though I +have cared not only for Robert Loraine but Henry Ainley since, I should +have known his voice anywhere. It was disappointing not to thrill; but +to be honest, I must admit that the voice sounded meaningless now, +compared with that of the Knight. Nevertheless, he was saying kind +things, offering to be our guide over the Castle and show us curiosities +that the "ordinary public" is not allowed to see. + +Just as Mr. Somerled was thanking the officer (I soon found out that he +was a lieutenant, named Donald Douglas) I heard other voices behind me. +"Good gracious!" I had just time to think, "it's Mrs. West and Mr. +Norman," when they came round a screen of masonry, and were upon us. As +soon as they saw who we were they stopped, Mrs. West pale, with the same +martyred expression, which grew sweeter and sadder every instant. Mr. +Norman shook hands with us in a cordial but embarrassed way, and the man +who had refused to let us enter at first would have headed the newcomers +off, but Mr. Douglas stopped him. + +"The Castle isn't open for visitors to-day," he said, "but I am making +an exception of Mr. Somerled's party, and as you are friends of his I +shall be delighted to include you." + +"You're very kind indeed; but----" Mr. Norman had to begin answering +because his sister didn't speak, and only looked, looked, looked at "her +friend Mr. Somerled." Her brother awaited a cue until the pause grew +embarrassing, and then the Knight sprang to the rescue of another lady +in distress. + +"We shall be delighted too, Mrs. West," he said. + +That was probably what she wanted, for she beamed on the Soldier Man +(_my_ Soldier Man), and accepted his kindness. Mr. Douglas then put +himself by my side; and Mrs. West annexed Mr. Somerled, or he annexed +her. This left Mrs. James for Mr. Norman, and they hadn't been +introduced: but they began chatting at once. + +Mr. Douglas seemed quite interested when I told him he was the first +soldier I'd ever known outside a book. He asked me if I thought I should +like soldiers, and I said yes. + +Into the heart of the fortress he led us: into the keep, square, +ponderous, forbidding, cool even on a hot August day, and the best part +left now of the proud old fortress. + +Mrs. West had a notebook, a little purple and gold one, like a +doubled-over pansy. As Mr. Douglas (laughing at himself because he was +not experienced as a guide) rattled off all the information he could +remember about Roman foundations--a sack by the Danes; William the +Conqueror, and William Rufus, and a British fort older than the time of +the Romans--she would scribble bits down hastily. But Mr. Norman took no +notes, and when he saw her writing, he looked sad, almost guilty. + +"Did you say the round wall the Britons built is under the keep?" she +asked Mr. Douglas, who is, I feel, the kind of young man you would be +calling "Donald" before you knew what you were doing. "Are there only +three fortresses like this in all England? Do tell me what makes this +unique?" And she looked at him so prettily that if I'd been in his place +I'd have run to her like a dog and fawned at her feet. But he never +stirred, and simply answered across the other people, though she is so +much more intelligent than I--I, who couldn't describe properly what is +a bastion. + +Our guide lit a candle for the dark dungeons, awful places with grooves +worn in the stone floors by the dragging feet of the prisoners, who +paced rhythmically up and down in the tether of their chains. On the +walls, covered with a cold sweat, as of deathless agony, we could see +the staples; and there was one spot of a dreadful fascination, where +Donald Douglas held his candle to show a trail of slimy moisture. Always +this weeping stone had been there, he said, no one knew why; and in old +days, when these dungeons bore the name of the "black hell," prisoners +tortured with thirst used, animal-like, to lick the oozing patch, making +many hollows round it like miniature glacier mills. After Culloden one +hundred and eighty men were thrown in during one night, and only fifty +were alive in the morning. + +It made me feel very loyal to Scotland hearing stories like this--though +I was proud of the Castle too. And I loved the tale of Willie Armstrong, +Kinmont Willie, treacherously given up to Lord Scrope, for the worst +dungeon of all, by troopers who in taking him violated a border truce. +His escape was a real romance; and I am glad Lord Buccleugh, who saved +him, was an ancestor of Sir Walter Scott. + +It was no use appealing to Lord Scrope, the Warden of the West Marches, +for justice, so Lord Buccleugh resolved to make a dash, and rescue the +raider, whom he loved. He got forty men (the English said two hundred, +but I know better), attacked the Castle, took it by assault, and carried +Willie, with fetters still dangling from his wrists, clear away across +the Eden and the roaring Esk, where none dared follow. When Queen +Elizabeth asked him afterward how he had dared, he said, "What is there +a brave man will not dare to do?" + +It was not in the first dungeons that we heard the story of Willie +Armstrong, but later, in the part of the Castle which the public is not +allowed to see. We got there by climbing steep stairs into what are now +the soldiers' storerooms: and it's because they are storerooms that +they're kept so private. Once these rooms too were prisons; and behind +an immense door of oak, almost in darkness, are perfectly wonderful +wall-carvings cut into the reddish sandstone by prisoners: figures of +men and devils; scenes of history; initials woven into ingenious +monograms, Prince Charlie's among them, and hearts interlaced. I wish I +had lived in those days, and I wondered aloud if there were any girls +named Barribel then. Donald Douglas said yes; it was a very ancient and +well-loved Scottish name. + +Stupid people in 1835 tore down most of the tower where Queen Mary was +imprisoned; but they were stopped before it was all gone, so luckily +there is a corner left, with a few graceful carvings on the outer wall. +And only three years ago a wonderful old table was found hidden away in +a dungeon which, it is thought, must have been used as her dining-table, +before she was whisked away from Carlisle to Bolton Castle in 1568. We +saw the table--very dark, very rough, looking like a prehistoric animal +turned to wood; and Donald Douglas said it was perhaps the oldest table +alive in England to-day--as old as King Edward's, and of the shape which +gave an idea later for Tudor tables. As he talked, I could almost see +Queen Mary sitting by this queer piece of furniture eating a poor meal, +and reading some book which might help her forget--perhaps idly +fingering the splendid black pearls which Mrs. James said were bought +last year in a tiny shop in Scotland, kept by descendants of a faithful +maid who went with her to the scaffold. And the shopkeeper, who thought +they were wax beads, lying in an old forgotten box, sold them for ten +shillings! + +They found in another dungeon of the Castle, hidden in a crack of the +wall, a silver snuff-box with a withered finger in it, which must have +been a prisoner's "fetich." But it couldn't have brought him luck; +otherwise, if he'd been released, he would have taken it away with him. +Probably he swung on the hanging beam that sticks out over the window of +the old "condemned cell." + +Next to Queen Mary's table, and perhaps the roof of the keep whence we +could see away over the border into mystery-land, I liked best of all +the Castle things a little deserted house in a courtyard, where Richard +III lived for a while, when he was young. Few people know about it, or +are taken to see it. But it alone would be enough to make the Castle +interesting if there were nothing else. Only a few empty, echoing, +half-ruinous rooms there are, with a queer chimney or two to give +comfort; but Richard's enemies made it a charge against him that he +lived in Carlisle Castle, splendidly housed in sinful luxury. What a +pity all the tales against him were not so little true as that! + + + + +III + + +We're in Scotland! + +Cæsar could not have revelled in crossing the Rubicon as I revelled in +crossing the border. The very word rings out like the sudden sound of +bells, or the mysterious music that thrills one's blood in dreams. + +Poor Cæsar was obliged to burn his nice boats, and think disagreeable +thoughts about the great responsibility he had taken, whereas we made +our crossing in a beautiful motor-car, and I had no responsibility +whatever. As for disagreeable thoughts, I had a few in England, but the +air of Scotland has chased them away. I see that they were silly as well +as selfish thoughts. I was so wicked that I hoped Mr. Somerled would not +make up his quarrel with Mrs. West. I was afraid that if he did the poor +princess he had rescued would be in his way, and that he would wish her +safely back in her glass retort. Now they _have_ made up, yet somehow I +don't feel in the way. He is so kind, and--yes, I must admit it--Mrs. +West is so tactful. + +It seems that while Mr. Douglas and I were walking and talking together +in Carlisle Castle she apologized to Mr. Somerled. And outside the +entrance gates, when Mr. Douglas had shaken hands, hoping to "run across +us" when he gets leave for Edinburgh, Mrs. West walked up to me. "I've +begged Mr. Somerled's pardon," she said, with her pretty smile which +never changes, "and he has forgiven me, so you mustn't go on thinking me +an ill-natured, bad-tempered person, please; I'm not really. Only we +writing people have 'temperaments,' just as artists have--Mr. Somerled +himself, for instance. My brother scolded me, and I deserved it. He is +_so_ interested in you and your talent for writing, and wants to be your +friend. You won't blame him for my fault, will you?" + +Of course I said no, and she held out her hand. When I'd put mine into +it, she pressed it gently, and before letting it go asked in a lower +voice if Mr. Somerled had told me why they quarrelled. + +I shook my head emphatically as I answered that he hadn't said a word, +and she looked suddenly much happier. "That is _like_ him!" she +exclaimed--if one can exclaim in a whisper. "Well, we must forget what's +passed, and think of the future. Basil and I have hired a car now, and +will travel in it; but that will be all the better for our novel, as +I've just been telling Mr. Somerled, for we shan't have anything to +distract our minds from the scenery and our notebooks. I've begged him +to feel _no_ regrets: for now we're friends again, and we shall meet +constantly, no doubt, without any embarrassment, but a great deal of +pleasure. As for you, dear little girl, you mustn't feel that the cloud +we've passed through need shadow you. It had to do only with us +grown-ups. You have but to 'play dolls' and be happy, until you're +safely tied up in your mother's apron-strings. Not that she's likely to +have any!" And Mrs. West laughed, showing her white teeth that are +almost like a child's. + +"Thank you," I said. "I mean to be happy--_very_ happy!" + +She looked over her shoulder at Mr. Norman, as if giving him a signal, +and he came and talked to me. He said that he had hardly slept all +night, because he was so miserable over what had happened, for every +one's sake, but especially for his own, as he felt that a beautiful hope +had been snatched away from him. "It was the hope of a friendship with +you," he added. "But now we'll take it up just where it fell down, won't +we, finding that it isn't broken after all?" + +While we were shaking hands I heard Mrs. West tell Mr. Douglas that I +was the daughter of Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald, and he seemed immensely +astonished, just as Mr. Somerled had, and Mrs. West and Mr. Norman. + +I wonder why every one is so surprised? Can it be that actresses do not +often have children? + +We bade each other good-bye, all of us, for Mrs. West and Mr. Norman are +going to see some places that apparently Mr. Somerled doesn't care +about; and it isn't quite certain when we shall meet again. "We shall be +like bad pennies, always turning up," Mr. Norman said; and Mrs. West +added quickly to Mr. Somerled, "But if we do, you mustn't feel that +we're tracking you down. The exigencies of authorship force us to be +conscientious sight-seers." + +As she spoke, she gave her brother a look. I don't know what it meant, +but his face had a sad, tired expression, as if there had been some +dispute or argument between him and his sister, and he was sick of it. I +don't feel, somehow, that he's in a good mood for their story-writing +together just now, and I'm sorry for him. I believe he would rather be +motoring with us than with her. Perhaps they have had a difference of +opinion about the plot of their book, for he told me in the summer-house +that he'd suddenly got a new idea for a motor romance, and had lost +interest in the old one. + +When we were ready to start away from Carlisle Castle, Mr. Somerled +condemned Vedder to sit at his feet; but the man seemed to take this +quite for granted, and not to mind in the least. "Would one of you care +to sit beside me?" he asked with so wooden an expression that it was +impossible to guess whether he would prefer Mrs. James or me to say yes. +Selfishly, I wanted him to prefer me, and because he didn't seem to +mind, I pretended not to hear, but went on talking to Mr. Douglas as if +he were the most important person in the world. Suddenly I felt a kind +of power over him, as if I were a grown-up woman in a book, and could +make men take an interest in me. Still, I could quite well hear Mrs. +James answer that she was too great a coward for the front seat, but she +was sure I would love it. Mr. Somerled turned to me then, without +speaking, as if to wait for me to answer, and I couldn't help thinking, +by the look in his eyes, that he _had_ wanted me, in spite of the wooden +expression. So I stopped in the midst of a word to Mr. Douglas, and +said, as meekly as a trained dove, that I should like to sit in front. + +"What a pity you haven't got a congenial, romantic companion in the car, +like that lad," said the Knight, rather sharply, "instead of a war-worn +veteran of over thirty." + +"Oh, I'd rather have you, because I feel already as if I'd known you +always," I explained. "And do you know, it didn't seem to me there was +anything romantic about Mr. Douglas, except his name." + +"In that case, you are a little flirt," said he, driving fast. But when +I looked at him in the greatest surprise, he seemed sorry. "I take that +back," he said. "I really don't believe you know yet what the word +means, or what you've done to earn it. Are you contented with me as a +companion, or would you rather have Douglas, or Norman? I should really +like to know, out of sheer curiosity, so you needn't mind telling the +truth, for in any case you won't hurt my feelings." + +"Why, but you are my Knight!" I said. And he asked no more questions +then about personal matters. We talked of the scenery, or he let me +talk, and said that it didn't disturb him in driving. He seemed quite to +take an interest in what I had to say, as if I had been an intelligent +person like Mrs. West. He didn't laugh at the high-flown ideas I've +collected about history, and frontiers between countries, but said that +my enthusiasms were contagious. + +"I'd given up all hope of a thrill at crossing the border," he said. "I +thought it was too late. 'What's long sought often comes when unsought,' +you know--or rather, you don't know yet, and I hope you never will. You +are making me wonder if, after all, instead of putting off my homecoming +too long, I haven't chosen just the right moment." + +I was glad to hear this, though I don't know even now how I managed to +give him that idea, unless by boiling with inward joy, and always +insisting that the world's not old, but young--a wonderful place, where +every flower and bird and every ray of sunlight is worth being born to +see. + +I asked him not to tell me when we came to the border, because I hoped +to know it by instinct; and, as it turned out, I _did_ know. But I think +any one with eyes must have known. + +Out from old Caer Luel, our road had crossed the Eden where Willie +Armstrong escaped, and ran on white and smooth toward the Solway, whose +sands glistened golden in the sun. The tide, which I'd read of as racing +like a horse at gallop, was busy somewhere else, and the river lay +untroubled, a broad, blue ribbon in the sandy plain where Prince +Charlie's men and horses once struggled and drowned. + +Now I knew we must be in the Debatable Lands, the hunting-ground of the +border raiders, beautiful wild land, full of the sound of rivers, voices +of the Teviot and the Eden, the Ettrick and the Yarrow, singing together +and mingling with the voices of poets who loved them. Through the +country of dead Knights of the Road my live Knight of To-day drove +slowly, thinking maybe of dim centuries before history began, when the +Picts and Gaels I have read of fought together among the billowy +mountains; or of the Romans building Hadrian's wall against the "little +dark men"; or of the many heroes, Scottish and English, who had drenched +the heather with their blood since then; or perhaps of himself, and the +days of his boyhood when he said good-bye to bonny Scotland and went to +try his fortune in the New World. Whatever his thoughts may have been, +they made his face at first sad, then hard; I fancied that it was of +himself as a boy he thought, and of his father and mother, whom he will +not see when he goes home; so to bring him out of his brown study I +began to tell him a story Mrs. Muir had told me about the border. It was +the tale of the last Picts, and the secret of the heather ale. All, all +the mysterious little dark people had been swept away in a great +massacre by the Scots after centuries of fighting with the Romans; and +only a father and son were left alive. "Give me thy Pictish secret of +brewing heather ale," said the King of the Scots, when the pair were +brought before him, "and I may perhaps spare thee and thy son." + +Then the dark Pict shut his eyes for a moment, and thought what to do. +He thought that the King would kill him and his son when he had their +secret; and he thought of the mead which had the power of wafting the +Picts to the Land of Pleasant Dreams. + + From the bonny bells of heather, + They brewed a drink langsyne, + Was sweeter far than honey, + Was stronger far than wine. + They brewed it and they drank it, + And lay in blessed swound + For days and days together, + In their dwellings underground. + +When he had thought with his eyes shut, the Pict said that he could not +tell the secret while his son lived, because of the shame he would feel +that his own flesh and blood should know him a traitor. He said this +because he believed they would kill the boy quickly without torture; and +the old man was right, for they bound his son hand and foot, and flung +him out to sea. "Now tell us the secret," they said. But the Pict only +laughed and answered, "Now I will not tell, because there is nothing +more you can do to hurt me." So they killed him quickly too, in their +rage, and the secret of the heather ale died with him. + +Though he liked the story, the obstinate man argued that the last of the +Picts were not really killed in this or any other way; that they had +slowly died out as a race, and had married with the Scots, leaving a +strain of their blood in the land to this day. "You know," he said, +"that Somerled of the Isles married a Pictish princess, and so there's +Pictish blood in the veins of the MacDonalds, in your veins and in mine, +though I'm of cottage birth, and you are of the castle." + +"I know that story of Somerled," I answered, "and how, hero though he +was, he got his princess by a fraud. It makes Kim seem more human." + +"I wonder if his princess thought so?" said Somerled the Second. + +"Why, of course she did," I answered him as if I were in her confidence. + +When I was in Carlisle, and proud of my English birth, I used to like +reading about the great battle of the Solway Moss, where two hundred +English horsemen killed or took prisoners more than a thousand Scots +they'd chased into the bog; but now I've forgotten everything except +that I'm a Scottish lass; and though I'm of the Highlands, and these +were Lowland men, I don't, as I did, love to dwell upon the raid of the +Solway Moss. Still, I could not get it out of my head, and while I +pictured it, as I have to do most things, whether I wish or no, I saw a +bridge--a fine stone bridge, flung like the span of a petrified rainbow +across a small stream. + +"That must be the Sark!" I gasped. "And we've come--we've come to the +border!" + +"Good lass, to divine it!" said he. And how I liked his calling me a +good lass--it was better than princess! + +We crossed the bridge slowly, lingering with half the car in England, +half in Scotland; then suddenly we sprang on gayly, with a rush ahead, +past the famous toll-house, which looked exactly like all its pictures. + +"Ho for Scotland--our ain countree!" I cried; and though he did not turn +to me, I saw his profile looking flushed and glad. + +"Now you should take back your own name of MacDonald again, from this +very minute of crossing the border," I said, when I had drawn in my +first long breath of Scotland. "Somerled's a grand name, yet it was only +the foundation of MacDonald. But I forgot! You've made your fame and +money as Somerled. Which do you love more--your Scottish blood or your +American fame and fortune?" + +"Blood is stronger than water, and fame is running water," he said. "As +for the money, I've cared too much for it--at least for the power it +gave me. I didn't make the most of it with my pictures, and greed led me +to love it better than my true work. That's why I lost the way to +fairyland, little Princess. I buried myself under the 'shields and +bracelets,' and I buried my talents, such as they were. For a while +Somerled tried to deserve the great name he had chosen--but only for a +little while. When by accident he grew rich, he began to wallow. Not a +picture worthy of his boyish ambition has he painted for five years. +What he has done have been 'potboilers.' He forgot that he was an +artist, and wanted only to be a millionaire. Disgusting! Now that I've +told you this, do you--a MacDonald--bid me to take the name again at the +border, where, as a boy, I laid it down--long ago, with high hopes and +vows romantic enough to please even you?" + +"Yes," I said, "I, a MacDonald, bid you to take up the name, and with it +all the old hopes and the old ambitions, as you come back into your own +land. Forget your silly money, and remember only that you're an artist +in a lovely motor-car. Won't _that_ make you happy--and a boy again?" + +"Something is making me happy--and a boy again," he echoed. + + + + +IV + + +Any dull body who says that the minute you're over the border everything +is not changed, can have no eyes--nor nose, because even the smell is +different. It is--I'm sure it is--the adorable smell of peat. I have +never yet smelt peat, but this is like my dreams. + +Oh, how beautiful everything was as we crossed the span of the stone +rainbow! A fresh wind had sprung up and out of the brilliant sunshine a +shower was spurting, like diamonds set in gold. I saw the dazzling sight +with eyes full of rain and curls. + +"Here we'll find the rainbow key--on _this_ side the bridge, in the +keeping of the Border Saints or Wizards," said I; for the hills and +lowlands that rolled away to the making of Scotland had a colour as if +stained with the fadeless, dried rainbows of centuries. Mingled with +peat was the tea-rose scent of summer rain and of running water, which +is as the fragrance of fresh-cut melons. Clouds like huge white brooms +swept the sky, and surging suddenly round us was a wave of sheep, +charming, reserved, Scottish sheep with ears of a different shape from +the English kind, like those of exaggerated rabbits. They looked at us +with horizontal eyes of pale brass cut across with narrow slits of jet, +and their thick wool, wet with rain, sparkled as if encrusted with +diamond dust. With them was a collie, much collie-er than English +collies, with a pawky Scottish smile. Not that I know what pawky means, +but it seems a word I ought to use at once, now we are on Scottish soil. + +Nobody need tell me that the first houses of Scotland have any +resemblance to the last houses of England. Maybe the country hasn't had +time to change much, just in crossing the bridge. I won't argue about +that. But the houses are as different from English houses as Scotsmen +are from Englishmen. Could you ever mistake a Scot for an un-Scot? No! +Our wide-apart eyes and our dreamy yet practical expression, our high +cheekbones, our sensitive, clear-cut nostrils, and the something +mysterious in our gaze which no one can explain or understand, not even +ourselves, is all our own. I have just found this out since crossing the +border. And am I not a MacDonald of Dhrum? + +I can't say that the first Scots I met--men, women, or children--looked +like descendants of the robber hordes who used to make the Borderland +their home; yet I paid them the compliment to believe they were such. +And you never would dream that the great-great-grandchildren of raiders +could have built for themselves the mild, solid, self-respecting houses +these people have dotted along the road where King Arthur passed, and +where some of the most romantic battles of history have been fought. But +so it is. And there the houses are. The people have found a kind of +stone to build them with, which looks like pressed roses; and there are +door-stones and even gate-stones of such an incredible cleanness, that +some women must devote their whole lives to their service, as nuns do to +prayer. + +Soon we came to the village and the post-office of Gretna Green, +bristling with picture post cards. There was the expected group of +whitewashed, one-story houses plastered with exciting notices: "Old +Priests' Relics," "Marriage Registers Kept," and delightful things like +that. So far, the scene was just what I'd imagined; but there was one +feature in the picture which made me feel I must be dreaming, it was so +surprising and extraordinary. + +In front of the Blacksmith's Shop stood the quaintest vehicle out of a +museum. It was an antique chaise such as no one in the last five +generations can have seen except in an illustrated book, or an old +coloured print. Two handsome gray horses were harnessed to it, looking +quite embarrassed, as if they hated being made conspicuous, and hoped +that they might not be recognized by their smart acquaintances. As we +came gliding past, they turned away their faces, lest our +motor--christened by me Gray Dragon--should regard them with contempt. +By the horses' heads stood a gorgeous, grinning man, dressed in livery +such as postilions may have worn a hundred years ago. Talking to him was +a blacksmith of the same remote epoch, with knee-breeches showing under +a leather apron, a great hammer in his hand, and on his head a high, +broad-brimmed beaver hat balanced on a white wig. Not far off were two +men in modern clothes; and they were placing in position some kind of a +photographic camera. + +When they saw that we meant to stop at the Blacksmith's Shop, they +brightened up, and seemed as much interested as if they had never before +seen an automobile. + +"They're going to take photographs of a Gretna Green wedding of ancient +times, for a biograph show, evidently," said Sir Somerled MacDonald, and +quickly explained to the late prisoner of the glass retort the nature of +a biograph. "Rather a good idea that! Apparently they're waiting for +their chief characters, the bride and groom." + +He was helping Mrs. James to get down from the car, and I had already +jumped out, for, of course, we wanted to visit the old house, and see +everything there was to see, in the place where Shelley (maybe!) and +hundreds of other famous people have been married. But before going in, +we lingered to stare at the chaise, which was rather like an immense +bathtub, the kind we used at Hillard House, where Grandma would have no +such new-fangled innovation as a bathroom. As we stood there, one of the +men with the camera came up, hovered undecidedly, and then said, with a +cough to draw attention to himself: "Excuse me, sir, but will you pardon +the liberty of my asking if you and the young lady will oblige us with a +great favour?" + +Sir Somerled frowned slightly, with his millionaire manner, which is not +so nice as the other. "What is the favour?" he inquired. + +"Why, sir," the man explained, "we're in a bit of a hole. You can see +we're here to reconstruct a runaway wedding for a cinema show. We +represent the North British Biograph Company, and we've been to a lot of +trouble and expense to get our props together. Pretty soon the father's +coach will be along, and we've got all we want except the two principal +figures. The bride and groom we engaged have failed to turn up. We can't +make out what's happened, but they ain't here, and we've searched the +neighbourhood without finding anything we can do with in their place. +The light's just right now, after the flurry o' rain, but by the look o' +the sky it won't last; and altogether it seems as if we'd have our +trouble for our pains unless you and the young lady'd consent to help us +out. If you'll allow me to say so, sir, in costume you'd be the Ideal +Thing." + +For an instant Sir S. looked as haughty as a dethroned king. Then the +funny side struck him, and he laughed. "You flatter us," he said; "but +I'm sorry we can't do what you ask. Perhaps your people will turn up, +after all." + +The poor man looked bitterly disappointed, almost as if he would cry, +and so did the other, who had been listening with enormously large red +ears like handles on a terra-cotta urn. Both men were wet with the rain, +which had fallen sharply and only just stopped as if to welcome us over +the border. The one who had spoken turned sadly away, without venturing +to urge his point (Sir S. isn't the sort of person strange men would +take liberties with), but in retreating he threw one agonized look at +me. I couldn't resist it. + +"Oh, _do_ let's stand for the bride and groom!" I pleaded. And +foreseeing a battle the photographer hastily retired into the background +to let us fight it out. "It would be such fun. I should love it. You +know, I've always vowed to be married at Gretna Green, if at all. And +this would be next best to the real thing." + +I gazed up at Sir S. as enticingly as I knew how, and there was a look +in his eyes that frightened me a little. I was afraid I had made him +angry; yet it wasn't a look of crossness. I could not tell what it +meant, but his voice in answering sounded kind. As usual, when he has +been particularly grave, he smiled that nice smile which begins in his +eyes and suddenly lights up his face. + +"You'd better wait for the 'real thing' and the real man," said he. "Be +patient for a few years. You've plenty of time." + +"I may _never_ get another such good chance," I mourned. "You _are_ +unkind! It would amuse me so much, and it wouldn't hurt you." + +"Do you think that's why I say no?" he asked. "You think I'm afraid?" + +"Yes, I do," I insisted. "You're too proud to do what will make you look +silly--because you're the great Somerled." + +"By Jove!" he said, and his face flushed up. "If you say much more I +will do it--and hang everything!" + +"I _do_ say much more!" I cried. "_Much_ more--and hang everything." + +"Very well, then," said he. "Your blood be on your own head." + +"My head's red enough already!" I giggled. "Oh, what fun! You are good, +after all." + +"_Am_ I good, Mrs. James, or am I bad?" he asked, turning for the first +time to her, as if he were half inclined to change his mind. But she +only smiled. "I can't see that there's any real harm," said she. "It +does seem a pity that these poor people should have come all this way +and spent all this money for nothing, don't you think so?" + +"I wasn't thinking of them. I was thinking of Miss MacDonald." + +"I'm thinking of her too," answered Mrs. James, as seriously as if she +were deciding something important. "If you don't mind on your _own_ +account, why----" + +He laughed. "Oh, as to _that_!----Well, come along, Miss MacDonald----" + +"Barrie," I reminded him. + +"Barrie! On with our wedding toggery, and let's be quick, if we don't +want an audience." + +He called the photographer rather sharply, and put him out of his +suspense. "You must thank the ladies' kind hearts," he said. "They can't +bear to have your scheme end in smoke. Tell us what you want us to do, +and we'll do it--anything in reason. But you mustn't expect the bride to +show her face. She must keep it turned aside." + +"That'll be all right," said the man, "though, of course, we should have +preferred----But after your great kindness we mustn't ask too much----" + +"Certainly you must not," Sir S. caught him up. And then the other +photographer, who had darted across the road to the chaise on hearing +the good news, opened a bundle that lay on the seat, and hauled out the +contents. + +Mrs. James began to be interested in the game, and the people who lived +in the houses were delighted that they were not to lose their hoped-for +excitement. Luckily, as it was lunching-time for most travellers, the +road was empty, and it seemed likely that we might finish our play +without spectators. The only moving things in sight at the moment, +except our own group, were one cat, two dogs, and a vehicle even more +quaint than the chaise in front of the Blacksmith's Shop. It was a coach +like Cinderella's, though not so pumpkiny. It was drawn by two nice +brown horses who might have begun life as rats. On one rode a postilion, +and out of a window leaned an old man in a tall hat and a brown coat +with brass buttons and a high velvet collar and ruffles at the wrist. +His hair was powdered, and he wore a white stock wound round his throat. +If we had met him on the road, without an explanation, we should have +thought that we had gone mad, or had seen a ghost; but now we knew him +for the bride's angry parent pursuing her relentlessly with a coach and +pair. It did sound odd to hear this fine old English aristocrat bawl out +in a common voice, "Ain't ye ready yet--what?" + +One of the photographers ran along the road and explained and +gesticulated. The coach stopped at a distance. I flew into the +Blacksmith's Shop to put on my wedding things, and Sir S. disappeared +next door with clothes under one arm and a hat under the other. I should +think no bride and bridegroom ever dressed in such a scramble. + +Mrs. James, dimpling and fussing, hustled me into a green brocade gown +which smelt of moth powder, and was so big that it went on easily over +my frock. Then came a purple silk cloak with wide flowing sleeves and a +romantic hood. One of the photograph men stood by to direct us; and when +Mrs. James was putting the hood over my head, he stopped her. "Madam, if +I might ask the young lady to take the pins out of her hair," he begged, +quite red with eagerness, "we shall get a great dramatic effect if it +tumbles down with the pulling back of the hood, just as her lover helps +her out of the chaise." + +Her lover indeed! Sir S. would have glowered; but I laughed, and out +came the hairpins, for the good of the game. I have always had to "make +believe" all alone, so it was extra fun having such a grand playfellow +as Sir Somerled--whether he liked it or not. And I determined that I +would _make_ him like it! I wanted him to play properly, and not be +stiff and disagreeable and grown up. He was ready before I was, and +waiting; for it took a little while stuffing all my hair safely into the +hood, and practising how to let it fall at the right moment. I hadn't +quite realized that my playmate was really handsome, in his dark, proud +way, till I saw him in a wavy brown wig with a ribbon-tied queue, a +broad-brimmed hat that sat dashingly on one side, shadowing his face; a +blue overcoat with a cape, and high boots drawn up to his knees. He +looked so splendid, and so young that suddenly my heart beat as if I +were really and truly in love. + +"If you should look at yourself in the glass," I said, feeling shy, yet, +wishing him to know that he was nice, "you'd never say again that you've +outgrown romance. No one would suspect you of being anything so dull as +a millionaire. You ought to paint your own portrait in that costume." + +"Thanks," said he, "I'd rather do you in yours." But I think he was +pleased. + +The photographer and the postilion both came forward to help, but Sir +Somerled wouldn't let his bride be touched by them. He handed me into +the chaise himself, and sat down by my side. Off trotted our horses to a +little distance, and turned round again. The show was ready to begin. + +Meanwhile, the others had been busy. They'd placed an anvil, real or +imitation, on the green in front of the house, for the pictures were all +to be taken out of doors. The blacksmith had begun to hammer away at a +horse-shoe, and that was our signal to dash up to the door. He stopped +hammering, pushed back his hat, and greeted us in pantomime. Sir +Somerled, playing his part well since it must be played, swung me out of +the chaise with an arm round my waist. Down fell my hood and my hair, +blowing round his face and hiding mine. He kissed my hand as the +blacksmith ran off into the house to get his book; and by this time I +was almost as wildly excited as if we had eloped. The camera was +grinding out photographs of everything that happened, no doubt, but just +then I forgot all about it, or that any one was looking at us. We +clasped hands over the anvil, Sir Somerled and I. As the blacksmith made +the motions of marrying us in haste, I looked across at my playfellow, +and at the same instant my playfellow looked across at me. I wanted him +to smile, and he would not! "Please _pretend_ you're delighted to marry +me," I mumbled. "Can't you see by my face how glad I am to get _you_?" + +"So should I be to get you, if I were the fairy prince," said he, in so +kind a voice it was a pity the biograph couldn't snap it. I squeezed his +hand to thank him for playing up to me, and he squeezed mine to show +that he understood. I felt suddenly that we were the best and truest of +friends. Even meeting my mother can't make up for losing him out of my +life, though he has been in it such a short time, and strayed in only by +accident. + +Whole we stood hand in hand, along came the red coach. Out leaped the +father, as the postilion drew his horses up, and the bride sought refuge +in the bridegroom's arms. It did seem real, and exciting! + +"Too late! We're married," said I. But even that was not the end of the +play. The father had to threaten the bridegroom with his pistol, and the +bride had to throw herself between the two men. I can see now what fun +actresses have. I was quite sorry when it was all over and the biograph +men were packing up to go. + +"We don't know how to thank you enough, miss," said the one who appeared +to be the leader, "for persuading the gentleman. If you'll give us your +address we'll send you reduced copies of the series of pictures." + +An address! I didn't know what to answer, for at present I possess no +such thing, though I thought it would sound queer to say so. I looked +for Sir Somerled, but he had walked away down the road to our motor, +which was hiding from the camera. His back was turned to me, but I could +see that his suit-case had been taken down from its place, and he was +putting something in it. + +"I don't know whether I ought to mention this, miss," said the biograph +man, "but you might be interested to know that the gentleman has bought +the costume you wore in the wedding-scene, and paid a good price for it. +That's what he's packing away now, I presume." + +"Oh! And did he buy his own costume, too?" I asked. + +"No, miss, only yours. I thought you might like to know." + +I did like to know. And I supposed that Sir S. would tell me all about +it when he came back, explaining that he'd got the things for a model to +wear in some picture; but not a word did he say--which puzzled me so +much that all the sight-seeing inside the Blacksmith's Shop could not +take my mind off the mystery. + +I sat in one of the marriage chairs, and looked at the pictures of the +old priests, and read about the many famous runaway couples since 1754, +beginning with Penelope Smith, the prettiest girl of Exeter, who married +Prince Charles of Bourbon, brother to the King of Naples. But all the +time I was thinking hard about myself and Mr. Somerled, and wondering +why he had secretly bought the wedding-dress. + +The guardian of the house made us write our names in the visitors' book, +which Mrs. James thought exactly like signing the register at a proper +marrying. And I said, "If nobody ever asks me to be his real wife, I +shan't be as badly off as other old maids, because, whatever happens, I +have had my wedding--a wedding at Gretna Green!" + + + + +V + + +We had a bridal sort of luncheon in the car, which was shunted off the +highway into a green shadowed road abandoned to summer dreams. Mrs. +James and I were like the flowers of the field, and had given no thought +to food, or where or how we were to get it. We supposed vaguely that +when we grew hungry we should stop at some inn and eat; but Sir Somerled +had a surprise in the shape of an American invention called a +refrigerator basket, nickel-lined, with an ice compartment walled in +with asbestos or something scientific. He said that it had been a +present, and he'd promised to bring it with him on this Scottish trip, +which it appears he was ordered to take as a rest cure. On the lid of +the basket, in a conspicuous place, is a silver plate, saying, in +beautiful old English letters, "To Ian Somerled, from his grateful +model," and underneath a monogram "M. M." in the raised heart of an +elaborate marguerite. As we ate ice-cold chicken, salad, and chilled +wild strawberries of the north, Mrs. James began with a gay perkiness to +tease Sir S. about the "grateful model," whose name must surely be +Marguerite; but I put a stop to that. The hour after a wedding at Gretna +Green is no tune for talk of any woman-thing except the bride; and as I +may perhaps never be anybody's real bride, I insisted on my rights. This +carrying on of the Gretna Green game rather scandalized good Mrs. James, +but when she scolded me gently for my "childishness," Sir S. said, "Do +let her be a child as long as she can. It would be well for every one of +us if we kept something of our childhood all our lives. Just now I'm +finding childhood gloriously contagious. I don't know how many years +I've thrown off in two days' time, since this child princess commanded +me to play with her." + +This nipped the scolding in its bud (not that I minded it), but I'm sure +dear Mrs. James still thought my bride-game had been played too long, +and she switched the conversation to the real romances of Gretna +Green--so breathlessly thrilling, some of them, that I was ashamed to +hark back to the subject of ourselves. Not that Sir S. wouldn't make a +hero for my romance. I feel that under his quiet, sometimes tired +manner, there's a hidden fire, and I want to find out what he is really +like, if I can. The study of such a man will be more interesting and +even more mysterious than peeping through the keyhole of the garret +door, into what I used to call "fairyland." Already that seems long ago. + +No one would guess, who had only seen Mrs. James with Grandma, how much +the little woman knows, or how nicely she can talk, and I blurted this +thought out, before I stopped to reflect that it might sound rude. An +hour passed like five minutes in listening to her story of the Lord +Chancellor's wedding at Gretna, and Lord Westmorland's shooting of +Banker Child's horse, to save his young bride from capture by her +father; the tale of Robert Burns almost inveigled into marriage by a +pretty girl he met on the road; and best of all the exciting history of +the brave lass of Langholm, who ran through brooks and bushes to snatch +her lover at the last minute from a rival he was marrying in the +Blacksmith's Shop. This last anecdote had been "the doctor's" favourite. +One chapter of his history was devoted entirely to the Old Glasgow Road. +In it he gave three whole pages to the young man's bet and the two +lassies who were ready to help him win it. "The doctor was romantic at +heart," explained Mrs. James, sighing, and pausing with an ice-cold +chocolate éclair in her hand. "All romance appealed to his imagination, +and in his notes he gave much space to Gretna Green, from the day of +Paisley, the first priest, up to the present time, when couples marry in +the Blacksmith's Shop in fun and not in fear. But," she went on, anxious +to impress the great Somerled, "Doctor James gave space in plenty to the +serious history of the Road: the Raider episodes; the journey of Queen +Mary; the march of Prince Charlie's Highlanders in charge of +Cumberland's soldiers, on their way to prison at Carlisle; the tramping +of many penniless Scottish geniuses seeking their fortune in London +town; the visits of famous men like Scott and Dickens, and Edward Irving +the preacher, who made his bride get down from her carriage on the +bridge, and walk on foot into her adopted country, England." + +Mrs. James always grows excited when she talks about the doctor and his +unfinished history of Scotland; and though she'd known Sir S. only a day +and a half, she was mesmerized into telling him secrets Grandma couldn't +have dragged from her with wild horses. She even showed him Doctor +James's photograph, which, in a shut-up velvet case, she had put into +the handbag Sir S. gave her. "Do _you_, an artist, with your great +knowledge of human faces and the souls behind them, believe a man with +those eyes and that forehead would take his own life to escape scandal?" +she appealed to him. "Wouldn't it be more natural to disappear, trusting +to his wife's faith, until he had made a new career somewhere and won +back the honour of his name?" + +Very gravely Sir S. examined the photograph, which she had painted in +water colours, rather faded now; and I looked at it, though I've seen it +before. Apparently he was sincerely interested in her story, and in the +picture. But then he seems interested always, in a quiet way, in what +people tell him, never interrupting or talking of himself and his +affairs, as Grandma does if any one comes to see her. "You are right, +Mrs. James," he said. "That man is a dreamer, but not a coward. He might +do strange things, but never a contemptible one." + +"Oh, what a judge of character!" she breathed ecstatically. "And how +sympathetic! It's wonderful, in the busy, flattered life you must have +led for many years, how you've kept your kind heart and generous thought +for others. But it's your artistic temperament!" + +The great Somerled laughed and looked embarrassed. "My enemies say that +my 'artistic temperament' has been swamped long ago by my love of +money-making and getting difficult things to turn my way. I think the +enemies are probably right; but you and this princess would dig up any +decent qualities a man might have left, no matter how deep they were +buried under rubbish." + +"How do we dig them up?" I wanted to know. + +"By being children--both of you--in your different ways." + +Then he gave Mrs. James back the faded photograph, with a few more +compliments on the doctor's eyes and the shape of his forehead. It was +time to be starting on, but the grateful dear would not accept his offer +of help in clearing up. She sent me away with him down the road to +gather a bunch of bluebells, azure as a handful of sky, to put into our +hanging vase--my first Scotch bluebells. And as soon as we were well +away, he began asking questions about Doctor James, which showed that he +really cared. What was his first name? How old was he when he +disappeared? And how long ago was that? + +"His Christian name was Richard," said I. "It was seventeen years ago +that he disappeared--or died. And he must have been twenty-nine then, +because Heppie says he was too young for Mrs. James--only a year older +than she--which would make him forty-six now." + +"You mustn't give her away like that," Sir Somerled reproached me. "I +should have guessed her seven or eight years younger." + +"Ah, that's the massage and the skin food and neck exercises," said I, +wisely. "She _will_ be pleased when I tell her what a success you think +they are." + +"She'll be much more pleased if you don't tell her you've mentioned +them, and I strongly advise you not to. Do you happen to know whether +Doctor James had a scar on the left temple?" + +"Yes," I eagerly answered. "She's told me about it. That's why he turned +the right side of his face to be photographed. But why? Did you ever +come to Carlisle and see him before you sailed for America as a boy?" + +"I came to Carlisle. I may have seen him," Sir S. replied. "But say +nothing to Mrs. James about this conversation of ours. Some time, +perhaps, I may tell you why. If not, it's not worth remembering. And +now, I see she's got everything ready, and is waiting for us. So is +Vedder. The car's had a good drink of petrol, and we can be off--for a +sight of Carlyle's country. Will that bore you?" He looked at me almost +anxiously, as if something depended on my answer. + +"Bore me? Oh, no: I shall love to go there," I assured him. + +"Why? What do you know of Carlyle?" + +"Not much," I had to confess, "But there were three books of his my +father had, which I've read. And there's a picture of him still in the +library." + +"Which books? What picture?" + +"'The French Revolution,' and 'Hero Worship,' and 'Sartor Resartus,' It +was that last one I read first. I took it off the shelf because it had +such a queer name. I wanted to find out what it meant. Don't you always +desperately want to find out what everything means? I do. But I suppose +you know everything by now. Well, I began to read without being so very +much interested. Then, suddenly, my mind seemed to wake up. It was a +wonderful feeling, just as if I stood near to a man who was playing +marvellous and startling music on the grandest organ ever made. And the +man who played could sing too. He sang in a voice sometimes harsh and +sometimes sweet. It seemed to me as I read the book that it was humorous +and sad, tender and stern at the same time. And till the very end I was +carried along on the wave of that organ music, which had in it always a +thrill of the divine. I never found any other book in the library that +made me feel exactly like that, except Shakespeare--and Grandma had all +the Shakespeare volumes carted off to the garret after she came in one +day when I was eleven, and found me reading 'Macbeth.' As for the +picture of Carlyle, it shows him, sitting in a chair, with a look on his +face of a sad man alone in a gray world." + +"Whistler's portrait! You shall have all Carlyle's works and +Shakespeare's for your own. I'll give them to you," said Sir Somerled, +looking at me with an interested look, as if suddenly he liked me better +than he had before. + +"Oh, you _are_ good, and I should love to have them," I said. "But now +there'll be my mother I shall have to ask permission of for everything. +I must do just what she wants me to do, for I shall die if she doesn't +love me." + +"Yes. I'd forgotten," said he. + +"I hadn't, for a minute," I answered. "But I suppose, as mother is a +great actress, she loves Shakespeare and has all his works; and perhaps +she has Carlyle, too, in her library." + +"Perhaps," he echoed. + +"Don't you like her?" I asked. "You always look odd, and speak in a +short, snappy way when I talk of my mother." + +"I like and admire her immensely," he answered, in that remote tone +which tries to frighten me, and does almost--but not quite. "All the +same, I don't think you'll find Carlyle in her library, so you'll have +to let me give him to you. But meanwhile, you shall learn to understand +him better by seeing the little village where he was born, and the house +his father the stonemason built." + +So we started off in the car, going back to the highway and along a road +which perhaps would not have seemed extraordinary if it hadn't been made +surpassingly beautiful by men who lit the path of history with a shining +light. I had a gay, irresponsible feeling, sitting beside Sir S. on the +springy front seat of the luxurious motor-car, as if I were a neat +little parcel clearly addressed to my destination, and going there +safely by registered post. By this time even Mrs. James had ceased to +"bite her heart" when she saw another motor dashing toward us, or a man +sauntering across the road and filling the whole horizon. The car is so +singularly intelligent that you feel it is a friend, too kind-hearted +and chivalrous a creature to let anything bad happen. Of course, about +every ten minutes something _almost_ happens, but that is invariably the +fault of other people's cars. You dash up to the mouth of a cross-road +which you couldn't possibly have seen, because it is subtly disguised as +a clump of trees or a flowery knoll; and you discover its true identity +only because another motor--a blundering brute of a motor--bursts out at +fifty miles an hour in front of your nose. If you'd reached that point +an instant later, your own virtuous automobile and the wretch that isn't +yours would certainly have telescoped, and you'd have been sitting in +the nearest tree with your head in your lap. But already I begin to +notice that you may pretty well count on reaching the danger point +(produced by alien autos) at precisely the right instant, never the +wrong one, and this gives you a beautiful confidence in your luck and +your driver: although the real secret must lie in the acuteness of your +guardian angel or patron saint. Vedder, who when young was a champion +boxer, is very superstitious, and Mr. Somerled allows him a large gold +medal of St. Christopher on the dashboard. St. Christopher, it seems, +has undertaken the spiritual care of motor-cars, and as by this time he +has millions under his guidance, his plans for keeping them out of each +other's way must be as complicated as the traffic arrangements of a +railway superintendent. When I contrasted the angelic behaviour of our +car with the appalling perversity of other people's, Sir S. burst out +laughing, and said that evidently I was born with the motor instinct: +that he'd seen women who took days or weeks learning these great truths, +whereas I came by them naturally. "It's remarkable what a lot of +valuable knowledge can be picked up by an enterprising princess in a +glass retort, when the dragon isn't looking!" said he. + +"Princesses in glass retorts are perhaps forced to learn lessons tabooed +by dragons," I replied to this; "so if I know things or have thought +things that every other girl doesn't think or know, it's because they +were forbidden fruit. They were my only fun." + +"They've made you a splendid little 'pal,' if you know what that means," +said he. "I'm not sure the glass-retort system hasn't some advantages +for the bringing up of women. The proverb is that truth lies at the +bottom of a well. I begin to think it may be looked for in glass retorts +in the land of dragons." + +"You mean that I'm truthful?" I asked. + +"Yes. I'm inclined to believe, up to date, that you've remained as +transparent as the glass of your late prison." + +"What makes you think so?" I wanted to know. + +"Observation--partly. And the way you talk to me." + +"What way?" + +"Well--that's a knotty question. I can hardly explain, but----" + +"I wonder," I began to think out aloud, "whether you mean that I say +what comes into my mind without being afraid you mayn't like it?" + +"Er--um--perhaps that covers a good deal of the ground. But what put the +idea into your head? Why should you be afraid of me?" + +"I'm not. Only--I've thought that it would be more respectful if I were. +You are so celebrated, you see. That's the first thing I heard about +you--I mean, about your being such a famous artist. I heard you were +rich too, but of course that didn't interest me so much." + +"No? That proves the benefit of the glass-retort system." + +"Why--how, please?" + +"Because princesses who haven't been bottled up in them, but have lived +in the lap of luxury--and in the laps of luxurious mothers--understand +the value of money, and consider men famed for their millions worth a +dozen who've wrapped themselves up in a few rags of some lesser kind of +fame." + +"You call being a great artist a lesser kind of fame?" + +"I didn't once. But since I've got into the money-making habit, I've +accepted the world's opinion." + +"Pooh!" said I rudely. "I don't believe you have, because the first +minute I saw you, I felt sure you were a _real_ man. That's why I just +had to speak to you in the station, instead of one of the others. I +knew--by instinct, I suppose, as you say I know about motors. Think of +the glory of being able to _create_ beautiful things!" + +"Think of being able to buy them! Jewels and castles and yachts, and all +sorts of things that women love. Motor-cars for instance." + +"You could buy motor-cars with money you earned by painting pictures, +couldn't you?" + +"Yes; but not castles or yachts: and not enough jewels to please +princesses who haven't spent eighteen years in a glass retort." + +"Well," I said, "I may be no judge, but I think jewels and castles would +be a bother, and I should be seasick in yachts. Give me a man who brings +beautiful things out of his soul, not out of his pockets. You're very +nice now; but you must have been much nicer before you buried your +talents under the shields and bracelets you told me about. Even I know +what you mean by them--and what happened to Tarpeia." + +"_Even_ you! I begin to think you were born knowing about a good many +things besides motor-cars. And you are entirely right. I was much nicer +before I began to collect the shields and bracelets." + +"Can't you give a lot of them away, and do what I said--go back to the +time before you bargained for them?" + +"You don't understand how difficult it is to go back." + +"But you are back--in Scotland." + +"You're right. Now's my one chance to return to my youth and ideals. +Bright little Princess, thank you for polishing up the dulled surface of +my soul." + +"It's only the surface that needs polishing," said I. "The inside part +is shining, even when the outside looks dim. But I'm afraid you're +making fun of me?" + +"I was never more in earnest. I'm crossing more than one border with you +to-day." + +"Borders you like crossing?" + +"Great heavens, yes!" + +"I'm glad of that," said I, in a self-satisfied way, "for then you won't +miss Mrs. West so much." + +"Miss Mrs. West? Good Lord, I'd forgotten her!" + +"That's very ungrateful and horrid of you, then," I scolded him, +"because you and she were friends, and she knows how to be perfectly +charming." + +"Yes. She knows how." + +"She knows just what to do and say." + +"Yes. She's an agreeable--and experienced--woman." + +"And if it hadn't been for me, she'd be sitting by you now." + +"I have little doubt of that." + +"And you would have been happy." + +"I should have been contented. There's a big difference between +contentment and happiness. You can't have learned it, yet." + +"Oh, can't I! It's all the difference between--between--well, the +difference between this borderland seen on a dark day and seen on a day +of sunshine. It's the same landscape, but it doesn't look the same to +the eyes or give the same feelings to the heart. The dark-day feelings +would be calm and quietly pleasant; the sunshine feelings would be full +of thrills and heartbeats--as to-day." + +"By Jove, you've hit it!" he exclaimed as if to please me by agreeing. +"Full of thrills and heartbeats--as to-day." + +"Then you _do_ feel the romance of everything in this sunshine?" I +asked, quick to drag a "yes" from him while he was in the mood. + +"I should say I did. And I'm not ashamed, with you to back me up. But +I've a sneaking idea I should have been ashamed of it with Mrs. West. +And I shouldn't have felt the thrills, only a calm, peaceful pleasure, +as in the gray days--contentment. I shouldn't have known what I was +missing, perhaps. I should have respected myself for outgrowing my +enthusiasms. But--in my best moments, Princess, I've pitied people more +for not knowing what they miss in life than for missing the things." + +"Yes," I answered, "because it's better to know there are beautiful +things, and to want them in vain, than grub along without knowing of +their existence. But all that's got nothing to do with Mrs. West." + +"Perhaps not. Yet it has something to do with me. No need to bother +about the connection." + +"I won't bother about anything!" I laughed in my joy of life and of +motoring, which seemed one and indivisible just then. "I'm wrapped up in +the magic golden web that Sir Walter Scott and Burns have woven round +every mile of this land across the border--_our_ land, yours and mine." + +"So am I, caught in the web, lost in it--to my own surprise." He laughed +as he drove, his eyes alert and young. "Burns, by the way, came to +Ecclefechan, where we're arriving now. He had an uproarious time, and +wrote verses to the Lass of Ecclefechan, which shows the place must have +been a good deal livelier then than now. Or else, which is as likely, he +had a faculty of squeezing the juice out of the driest, most unpromising +fruit--the same faculty you have." + +"Perhaps the fruit dried up later," I suggested. "Burns died soon after +Carlyle was born, didn't he? And maybe people began to be primmer when +they were forgetting his influence." + +"No. Those of us Scots who were meant to be dour were always dour," Sir. +S argued, "since the days of John Knox, and long before. It was partly +climate--partly persecution. Both agreed with our constitutions. But +look, here's the little house where one of the greatest geniuses who +ever saw the light in Scotland first opened his eyes. I dare say he +didn't get much light--but he spent most of his life in giving it to +other people, out of his own gloom. Wouldn't Burns have been interested, +passing that house (as he must have, in the 'uproarious time' at +Ecclefechan), if his prophetic soul had said, 'Here, in this little +dwelling as humble as your own birthplace, will be born a man as great +as you--and one of your keenest critics?'" + +I didn't answer, because no answer was needed, and because we were both +gazing hard at a small, whitewashed, double house made into one by an +archway joining the two parts together. Coming from Gretna Green it was +on our left in the midst of a gray and white village which would have +looked commonplace if it had not been framed by an immense sky. It was +as if this vast blue crystal case had been set down over Carlyle's +birthplace to protect and mark it out from other places. There was the +narrow, high-banked brook--"the gentle Kuhbach kindly gushing by" (as +Sir S. quoted)--which had made music in Carlyle's childish ears, to echo +through them all his life. Perhaps he paddled in the brook on hot summer +days, just as little boys were paddling when our Gray Dragon suddenly +broke the respectable silence of Ecclefechan; and I know that he must +have seen stormy sun-rises and fiery sunsets reflected in it as in a +mirror, just as the Lady of Shalott saw all the things that really +mattered passing in her looking-glass. + +It is the kind of village, and the gray or whitewashed houses with their +red door-sills are the kind of houses, where you would say, rushing +through in a motor, "Nothing can possibly happen." Yet Carlyle happened; +and he was an event for the whole world, which now makes pilgrimages to +his birthplace. And I think that when his memory travelled back to +Ecclefechan, he would not have changed it for a garden of palaces and +flowers and fountains. Even the wee bairns playing in the road where +Carlyle played, knew why we stopped our car. They pointed out the +Carlyle house, gazing at us in solemn pity because we were poor +tourist-bodies, who couldna bide the rest of our lives in the best +village in a' the wurlld. + +For my part, I pitied them, because their feet were bare, whereas the +poorest children in my native Carlisle have wonderfully nice shoes, +bound in brass. But all the Scot--and perhaps the crofter--rose in Sir +S. when I mourned over the little dusty feet. "Do you think they go +barefoot because they've no shoes?" he asked. "You're wrong. You don't +know your own country-folk yet. They've as good shoes as those Carlisle +kids, and better, maybe. It's because they don't like the feel of the +shoes when they play, and they're saving them for Sundays. I did the +same myself. Not a pair of shoes did I have on my feet, except on the +Sabbath day, till I was turned eleven." + +It seemed to me that suddenly he had quite a Scotch burr in his voice, +and I did like him for it! + +An apple-cheeked old body opened the door. On it was a brass plate which +would have told us, if we hadn't known already, that in this house +Thomas Carlyle was born. Remembering what he grew to be and to mean in +the big world, the three tiny rooms and the few simple relics were a +thousand times more pathetic than if we'd been led through apartment +after apartment of a palace, seeing christening cups and things under +glass cases. They did not seem sad to me, only a little dour in a +wholesome way, as porridge is dour compared to plum-cake. But the +cemetery which we went to after we had seen the house made me want to +cry. I didn't like to think that, coming back here to sleep after all +those many years, Carlyle had not his wife to rest beside him. Lying +with his ain folk behind grim iron railings couldn't have consoled him +for her absence. This is the only graveyard I ever saw except the one +where my father is buried; and somehow, it doesn't seem respectful to +the dead to go and criticise their graves, unless you are their friends, +bringing them flowers--pansies for thoughts and rosemary for +remembrance. It's like walking into people's houses and opening their +doors to look at them in bed when they're asleep, and can't resent your +intrusion, though they would hate it if they knew. I said this to Sir +S., and he partly agreed with me on principle; but he warned me that +there are cemeteries I must visit in Scotland unless I want to miss the +last volumes of several interesting human documents. I don't know +exactly what a human document is; still, I suppose I shall go to the +graveyards for the sake of finding out what he means. + +He spoke as if I were likely to go to these places with him, and said +that he would enjoy showing me Carlyle's house in Chelsea, which is +"more full of the man's heart and soul than Ecclefechan is." But, of +course, he said this without stopping to think. He will go back to +America and forget the forlorn little princess he happened to rescue +from a neighbouring dragon. Yet never mind, I shan't be forlorn after +this! I shall have my mother, and mothers are more important to +princesses than the most glittering knights. I shall, of course, travel +about with her wherever she goes, so I can never be lonely or sad. I +ought to be even more impatient than I am for the day to come when she +is due in Edinburgh, and I can surprise her there: but I suppose, having +lived without her so long, it is difficult to realize that I'm actually +to see her at last. However, I think of her every minute--or perhaps +every other minute; and I haven't fully realized until to-day how much +there is for which I have to thank her: the gayety and hopefulness she +must have kept in her heart, and handed down to me. Without gayety and +hopefulness neither of us would have dared or cared to run away from +Hillard House. + +I think, far-fetched as it seems, it was seeing Carlyle's birthplace, +and feeling the influence of his parents upon him, which made me +understand. Great genius as he was, I wonder if he might not have been +even greater if his mother or father had taught him that it was right to +be happy and wrong to be sad? Sir S. says that Jenny his wife could have +taught him all that, if he had chosen to learn; but he was grown up +then, and so it was too late. The sunshine must be in your blood when +you are a child, and then no shadows can ever quite darken the gold--or +at least, that is the thought which has come into my mind to-day. + +It was the right thing to turn southward off the Glasgow highway after +Ecclefechan, to go to Annan and see the place where Carlyle got his +schooling. The Gray Dragon, travelling slowly (for it, or "her," as Sir +S. and Vedder always say), came to the end of the journey in a few +minutes; but when Carlyle walked along that pleasant shadowy road, +carrying his school books, he must have had plenty of time for +day-dreams. Now and then he could have seen the Solway gleaming, and I +can imagine how the beautiful, winding river must have given that grave, +wise boy thoughts of the great river of life, running to and from +eternity. We passed close to Hoddam Hill, where--Sir S. and Mrs. James +told me--the Carlyle family lived for a while when Thomas was grown up, +he translating German romances, and his brother working on the farm. + +At Annan, looking at the statue of Carlyle's friend, Edward Irving, in +the broad High Street, we came back to the subject of Doctor James, and +I heard for the first time the real truth at the bottom of the bad +gossip. + +We had got down from the car to look at the statue, and read what it +said on the pedestal. We were not thinking at first about the doctor, +but only of Edward Irving, and Sir S. was saying to Mrs. James how Annan +was only one of many towns where statues are put up to the memory of men +once misunderstood and cruelly persecuted in the very place where they +are afterward honoured. It seems that Edward Irving (who loved Mrs. +Carlyle when she was Jenny Welsh) had to come back to his native town to +be tried for heresy by the presbytery, after a brilliant career in +London as a fashionable preacher and founder of a new faith. All the +theologians of Scotland and crowds of other people (Sir S. says all true +Scots are theologians at heart) came pouring into Annan by coach and +chaise on the great day of the trial; and in spite of Irving's +passionate appeal, he was found guilty by a unanimous vote. + +Talking of the trial, and of the preacher's death the next year, took +Mrs. James's mind to the subject which is never farther away than at the +back of her head. She found a likeness between Edward Irving's fate and +her husband's. "Richard was born in Carlisle and loved the place, but +they believed evil of him and persecuted him," she said. "Some day he +will come back and make Carlisle proud of her son. That's what I expect. +That's what I live for." And she gazed up at the statue of Irving the +preacher with quite the look of a prophetess in her eyes. + +I was afraid that Sir S. would think her mad; but he seemed interested, +as before, and asked if she had in her mind any particular kind of +success her husband might be working to obtain. Was there something, +apart from his profession, and the unfinished volume of history, which +had occupied the thoughts of Doctor James in old days? + +The little woman answered this question almost reluctantly, and I soon +guessed why. There was a serum which the doctor had been trying to +perfect. It was to be used instead of chloroform or ether, for people +with weak hearts, or when for other reasons anaesthetics were dangerous. +A patient in peril of death had begged Doctor James to try it upon him. +The doctor had consented. The patient had died, and though it was not +really because of the serum, but because the man couldn't possibly have +lived in any case, the doctor's enemies had blamed him. "That was what +broke his heart," Mrs. James explained, still staring at the statue with +wide-open eyes, to keep the tears from falling. "That is why he died to +the world which misjudged him." + +"And do you think, if he can perfect this serum, he will come back?" +asked Sir Somerled. + +"_When_, not 'if.' But I always knew it would take a long time, because +unless some rich person or people had faith and helped him, he would +have to get together a good deal of money for a laboratory before he +could make a great success or a great name. And he went away almost +without a penny." + +"I see," said Sir S., thoughtfully. "Well, such faith as yours is enough +to inspire a man with courage to push the stone of Sisyphus to the top +of the hill. And it deserves a high reward. I hope the reward may come, +and that I may see the day. Now, we must go on, for this afternoon won't +last as long as I could wish." + +He helped Mrs. James to her place with extra kindness, almost +tenderness, tucking behind her back the gray silk-covered air-cushion +which she says makes her feel she is leaning against a nice pudding. + +Neither of us had asked Sir S. what we were to see next, for we trusted +him to choose; but when we were ready to leave Annan and go back to the +high road, he said that the thought of Galloway was haunting him. "We +can spin on to Glasgow by way of Moffat and see a lot of interesting +places; or we can turn west from Carlyle country, for a run through +Crockett country," he explained. "Which, shall it be?" + +I was ashamed to confess that I didn't know why he called Galloway +"Crockett country"; but Mrs. James saw my sheepish look, and excused me. +"The child has had no novels to read later than Scott." + +"Crockett has done for Galloway what Scott did for Tweedside," said Sir +S. "It's his country. He has made it live. When I give this girl the +promised present of Carlyle and Shakespeare, I must add Crockett. That +is, as she reminded me"--and he smiled--"if Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald +allows Ian of that ilk to lay gifts at her daughter's feet." + +"Oh, she'll permit Barrie to accept books," said Mrs. James, with her +pretty primness. "How the child will love the 'Raiders,' and the 'Men of +the Moss Hags.' Yes, certainly she ought to see 'gray Galloway.'" + +"Galloway be it, then," said Sir S., looking pleased. "But it won't be +gray at this time of year. It will be purple and gold and emerald, and +silvered with rivers running between flowery banks. And it will smell +sweet as a Scotsman's paradise, with bog myrtle and peat." + +"I too have often wanted to see Galloway," said Mrs. James, "even before +I read the Crockett books; for the doctor devoted a particularly +interesting chapter to its history. I remember well, the ancient name +was most romantic: Gallgaidhel, for the country of the stranger Gaels. +That was the heading he gave his chapter, and I fear I did not know what +'stranger Gaels' meant until I read it. The Celtic Gaels who lived there +used to be called Atecott Picts; and though they were very independent +and wild, and the Romans didn't govern them long, they accepted the +Northumbrians as their overlords--oh, it must have been in the seventh +century, I think. And two hundred years later they made common cause +with the Vikings: so the other Gaels, who would have nothing to do with +the foreigners, scornfully named the men of Galloway 'stranger Gaels.'" + +"It was just jealousy, then!" said I. "Because the people of Galloway +were so broad-minded and hospitable, and ahead of their times. It's the +right country for strangers to visit first----" + +"But we're not strangers," Sir S. cut me short. "You and I, Barrie, are +coming into our own. To-night for the first time you'll sleep in your +ain countree, under the 'heather moon.'" + +"It ought to be a wonderful place, for our first night of the heather +moon," I said, half shutting my eyes--"a mysterious, beautiful, _lucky_ +place, to remember always. What shall it be? Have you decided on what is +appropriate?" + +"I'd thought of Dumfries," he said. "But it doesn't answer that +description, and though it's in Galloway, it concerns Burns and is out +of Crockett land. Still----" + +"Sweetheart Abbey!" Mrs. James exclaimed rapturously. "It should be at +Sweetheart Abbey that Barrie dreams her first Scottish dreams." + +The knight laughed rather bitterly for some reason. "Are Scottish dreams +different from other dreams?" + +"Perhaps," said Mrs. James, "they are the dreams that come true." + + + + +VI + + +It is days later, it seems a long time ago that I wrote of our plan to +spend the first night in Scotland at Sweetheart Abbey--a long time since +the night itself; for I have lived more in these few days than in all my +life before. + +Soon we are to reach Edinburgh. Monday is the day when my mother will +begin acting there in her new play. I shall see her. It is to be the +Great Day of all, the day to which all the others have been leading up, +and I ought to be perfectly happy. So I am! Still, there's one little +heavy spot in my heart. All the yeast of happiness won't make it light. +The beginning of the new means the end of the old. The trip will be +over--for me; though the Knight and the Gray Dragon will go on and have +hundreds of adventures without me. They will be my knight and my dragon +no longer. Perhaps I shall never see them again. + +Before our days together slip away into the background of my mind (it +seems as if they never could!) I want to write down things about them to +keep and read when I am _old_. + +First of all, there was Ruthwell Cross. + +We went there from Annan; and as we flew along in the car over a good +white road, we could see across widening waters the mountains of the +English Lake country floating like a mirage along the southern sky, +Skiddaw with its twin peaks higher and bluer than the rest. How I love +the names of the Cumberland places and mountains! I made Sir S. say +Helvellyn and Blencathra and Glaramara over very slowly, just for the +music in my ears. And when his voice says a thing it sounds particularly +well. I like to hear it roll out such a word as Northumberland, for +instance. The way he says it makes you think of thunder on great +moorlands, or a rush of wild Scotsmen over the border. But the Celtic +names he speaks most lovingly, most softly, so that they ring on your +ear for a long time after they are spoken, like an echo of fairy bells. + +I did not mean to write all this about him and his voice when I began. +There is so much else to say. Yet, somehow, I keep running back to him +in my thoughts, especially now the trip is nearly over. And while I +still cling to the subject, I have found out that he can sing as well as +paint. But the singing belongs to Sweetheart Abbey; and Ruthwell Cross +came before. + +Mrs. James and Sir S. excited my interest in Galloway by telling me bits +from the "Raiders," then stopping in exciting places to talk of +something else. And somehow Galloway does seem a country where almost +anything might happen--big, sensational, historic things. There was +nothing gray to see except glimpses of the Solway, where the sea poured +in its resistless tide; and that was the gray of polished silver. I had +an impression of high hills, blunt in shape yet strangely dignified, and +wide-spreading moors which sent out exquisite smells like lovely unseen +messengers to meet us, as the car seemed to break through crystal walls +of wind. Here and there were piles of pansy-brown peat, ready for +burning. Children with heads wrapped in scarlet flame ran out of +cottages to stare at us. Sir S. actually admired their red hair. He +exclaimed suddenly, "By Jove, it's worth crossing the ocean to see that +glorious stuff again! It's the hair of Circe." I don't know when +anything has made me feel so much like a kitten that purrs over a dish +of cream. For you know the hair he loved was _just_ my colour, not a bit +less scarlet. What would Grandma say? + +It rained once--sharp rain like thin daggers of glass stabbing our faces +as the car dashed through--and the wet road looked like a shining silver +ribbon flung down anyhow on purple velvet. The purple velvet was +heather, and I never saw any before we started on our trip, except a +little sad, tame heather in the garden of Hillard House--heather +moulting like a bird in a cage, with all the spirit of the moors gone +out of it. But this Galloway heather was real heather, the heather of +poetry; and I knew that by and by I was going to see the heather moon +rise over it. The very thought brought a thrill--and I was glad, as I +had it, that Mrs. West was somewhere else in her own car. She does so +damp you, somehow, in your high moments, and make you feel too young for +anybody to care for your crude little thrills or take them seriously. + +When the rain stopped, it left a thin white mist floating over the +heather, until the sun broke out and the deep purple was lit to crimson, +like a running fire. + +I'm not quite sure if all this happened before Ruthwell Church (called +Rivvel by the people near), but in my memory it is part of the same +picture, of that first day in Galloway. + +I know we skimmed through a little place called Cummer-trees, and then +Sir S. slowed down to show us, he said, one of the "sights of the +world." He had never seen it himself, but he knew all about it, and even +Mrs. James knew a little. It is a great advantage to a simple woman to +have had a clever husband, and feel obliged, to live up to him. + +We had come not so much for the church as for a wonderful stone cross +which it contains, as a jewel-box contains treasure of pearls and +diamonds. This cross is worth countless numbers of both; and it has a +history as intricate as its own strange carvings. + +In the manse they gave Sir S. the key of the small old church behind a +high wall with steps up and down: and once inside he led us straight to +the north end, where, in a side aisle, we saw a great shape rise. We +must have known it to be a marvel, even if we had heard nothing +beforehand. + +The cross used to stand, not in the church, but out in the open long +before the church was built, and it towered eighteen feet tall against +the sky. There it lived year after year, generation after generation, +and nobody knew what its carved birds and beasts and hieroglyphic +inscriptions meant. Nobody cared much, until a gloomy set of men in a +General Assembly, when Charles I was King of England, threw it down and +broke it up, because it was an idolatrous emblem. Luckily, some wise +person hid all the pieces in the church; but after a while another +person not so wise threw them out into the backyard. There they stayed +until a Doctor Duncan thought he would have the cross put up in his +manse garden: and some great Norwegian scholars, to whom he sent copies +of the writings, grew very excited, and contradicted each other about +them in 1802. But no one knew what the letters really meant till the +eldest son of the famous actor John Kemble came to the neighbourhood for +a holiday. He was a learned authority on Anglo-Saxon times, and he +discovered that the writing was really Early English, the very earliest +of all, the rudiments of the language which--as Sir S. expressed +it--"Chaucer helped to form and Shakespeare perfected"; because they had +to _make_ their words, as well as group them together--which is all that +lazy authors have to do nowadays. The quaint carvings relate to the life +of Christ and saints, and they are described in Latin from the Vulgate; +but it was the runic inscriptions which John Mitchell Kemble puzzled +out--a kind of rhymed soliloquy the cross itself was supposed to speak; +and afterward he found the whole thing in an Anglo-Saxon MS. of the +seventh or eighth century, far away from Scotland, in a library at +Vercelli, near Milan. But it was written by the Northumbrian bard +Caedmon, in a poem called "The Dream of the Holy Rood." + +No wonder Sir S. wished to see Ruthwell Cross. There's nothing else of +the kind, he thinks, so splendid anywhere. + +Even then my first wonderful day in Scotland wasn't over, for we had +time to see Caerlaverock Castle, which, according to Sir S., is another +of the best things on earth. I suppose, in old days, when the world was +small because it was difficult to travel great distances, it didn't seem +odd to find magnificent runic crosses, and castles, and historic +blacksmiths' shops, and houses of geniuses all standing cheek by jowl +within a step of each other. They had to be like that, or nobody from +the next county would ever have seen them: but now, especially to a +person who has seen nothing except in dreams, it is startling, almost +incredible. + +Caerlaverock, Mrs. James said, was probably Scott's Ellangowan in "Guy +Mannering"; so I shall read "Guy Mannering" as soon as I settle down to +live with my mother. We couldn't help getting a little mixed up with +Scott even here, at the gate of the Crockett country; and there were +traces of Burns too, because of our being near already to Dumfries, +where he lived for years and finally died. But the idea Sir S. had set +his heart upon was for us to come back to Dumfries after we had seen +Galloway and had run up to Burns's birthplace at Ayr. It would make each +part of the trip more "concrete," he said. + +Whether or no the stronghold of the Maxwells was Ellangowan, it was in +any case the key to southwest Scotland, and in looking at the place it +is easy to understand why. A great red-gold Key it was when we saw it, +red-gold in the western sunlight in a hollow near the river; such red +and gold colour as the old sandstone had, in contrast with the green of +lichen and green of waving grass, I wouldn't have believed in, if I'd +seen it in a picture. I should have said, "The artist who painted that +ruined castle put on the colours he would like to see, not those he did +see." But I should have misjudged him, because the colours were real. + +Once there was a double moat all round the vast, triangular castle, and +still there's water in one of them. You would have thought the Maxwell +ladies had thrown their rubies and diamonds into it one wild day when +they were escaping from enemies, and that the jewels had lain ever since +at the bottom of the moat unnoticed, though the sunlight found out and +treacherously tried to tell the secret. Think of Ptolemy writing about +Caerlaverock, and calling it Carbantorigun! I'm glad we haven't to call +it that now, or I should always have to say _it_--as one goes on saying +"you" to a person whose name one hasn't caught. + +Even if Caerlaverock were in hideous surroundings, it would be +magnificent: but the river Solway is its silver foreground, and Lochar +Moss is its mysterious background; so it is perfect in beauty as in +strength, and if only no such hateful things as cannons had been +invented, it would not now be a ruin. Although it lies so low, it was +built to resist everything but gunpowder: for how could the Maxwells +dream that all their beautiful arrangements for pouring down molten lead +and boiling oil would be useless against a new foe? + +Edward I took the castle in 1300, but Bruce got it back thirteen years +later; and there was much fighting and tossing back of the Key from one +hand to the other even before the great siege when the Earl of Essex +punished Lord Herries for defending Queen Mary. Still, the walls stood +bravely, and after the Essex affair they were made stronger than +ever--so strong and so splendid it must have seemed as if Caerlaverock +need never capitulate again to any enemy. But no sooner had the Maxwells +finished a lovely new façade, the best they'd ever had, with carved +window and door caps of the latest fashion, than Colonel Home came along +with his grim Covenanters and blew up everything with his horrid +cannons. I can't help disliking him, for the Maxwells seem to have been +the most fascinating people. One Lord Maxwell of the seventeenth +century, who was Roman Catholic when it wasn't safe to be Roman +Catholic, used to disguise himself as a beggar, and play the fiddle in +the market-place of Dumfries as a signal to tell the faithful of his own +religion where and when they might come to Mass. They understood +according to certain tunes agreed upon, which was easy, as they had only +three meeting-places. A nice old man in the castle told us these stories +and showed us the exquisite courtyard where Burns came one day when he +was seventeen and cut on a stone in the wall the initials R. B. in a +triangle, like a masonic sign, which suggests the wedge shape of the +castle. + +Sir S. knew all about this carving, and said that Americans had offered +two thousand pounds for the stone. But the Duchess of Norfolk, who is +mistress of Caerlaverock in her own right, turned up her nose, +metaphorically speaking, at the offer. "I bid ye fair:" is the motto +that goes with the crest over the huge gateway between two towers, and +the rumour is that the Americans, in bidding for the stone of the +initials, quoted this motto; but their aptness did them no good. In one +of those towers Murdoch, the blind Duke of Albany, was imprisoned for +seven years by James I before he was executed at Stirling; and they say +that in the green hollow where the great red ruin glows he can be seen +walking in the moonlight on the anniversary of his beheading. + +One of my favourite stories in history is about Lord Nithsdale and his +brave, clever wife who saved him on the eve of his execution by dressing +him in her clothes and letting him walk calmly out of the Tower of +London in her place. Think of being able to do such a thing for a man +you loved! He was one of the Lords Nithsdale who came from Caerlaverock; +and not far away, at Terregles House, is a portrait of that Countess of +Nithsdale, with the cloak which her husband wore when he escaped. They +have a Prayer Book, too, of Queen Mary's in that house, for she gave it +to Lord Herries, who sheltered her in her flight after the battle at +Langside, eighty miles away. But we didn't see these things. It was the +old man at the castle who told us of them, because they are still in the +keeping of the Maxwell family, of which he is very proud. + +We hurried quickly through Dumfries, not to see or think of the Burns +associations there until we should come back; but at Lincluden Abbey, +close by, we were forced to think of him--although, as far as our trip +was concerned, he wasn't born. At Lincluden, where he loved to come, +walking out from Dumfries (as he must have walked to Caerlaverock to cut +his initials) he saw the Vision. And Lincluden is so sweet a place that +my thoughts of it, mingling very humbly with the great poet's thoughts, +will lie together in my memory as pressed flowers lie between the pages +of a book. + +The road which leads from Dumfries to Lincluden seems like a quiet +prelude to a lovely burst of music, so gentle and pretty it is. Then +suddenly you come to the promontory stitched on to the mainland with +great silver stitches of rivers, the Cluden and the Nith; and there are +old earthworks, fallen into ruin, which guard the Abbey as the skeletons +of watch-dogs might lie guarding a dead master. There's a mound, too, by +the side of the ruined church, and it is called a Mote, which means +something desperately interesting and historic, and there's a Peel-tower +in ruin. Indeed, all is in ruin at Lincluden Abbey; but that makes it +the sweeter and sadder. And as we came, the red of the crumbling +sandstone burned in the fire of sunset like a funeral pyre heaped with +roses. The melancholy, crowding trees and the delicate groups of little +bushes were like mourners coming with their children to look on at the +great burning. + +We went into the church to see the tomb of Margaret Countess of Douglas, +who was a daughter of King Robert the Third; and somehow the mutilations +of the effigy made it more beautiful, causing you to see as in a blurred +picture the thousand events of troublous times which had passed over the +figure, leaving it through all peacefully asleep. A daughter of a king, +with the Douglas Heart to guard her, she would be too noble in her stony +slumber to show that she minded losing her features and a few other +trifling accessories which might spoil the looks of less important +women. + +When we came out, high in the sunset glory gleamed a silver sickle, +reaping roses. It was the heather moon, and I cried out to Sir S. as I +saw it, "Wish--wish! Your first sight of the heather moon, and over our +right shoulders for luck! Whatever we wish _must_ come true!" + +I was so excited that I seized his hand; and he was too polite to give +it back to me like a thing he didn't want. So he held it firmly in his +while we both looked up to the sky, silently making our wishes. My wish +was to be that my mother might love me; but I stopped and thought, "What +is the good of making such a wish, when I've only one, and I'm sure to +get that one without the heather moon, as mothers all love their +children." This caution was very "canny" and proved my Scottish blood, I +couldn't help thinking, as I paused in order to select the most +appropriate wish for the heather moon to grant. + +Several ideas presented themselves with a bow: a wish to be happy: but +that wasn't "concrete" enough, as Sir S. would say. A wish to be very +rich and able to do anything in the world I might like to do; but being +rich sounds so fat and uninteresting--or else bald-headed; for nearly +all the photographs in picture papers of desperately rich people are one +or the other, or both. At last I began to be nervous, for if Sir S. or +Mrs. James (who was close by) should speak before I'd given my wish to +the new moon, she'd be unable to grant it, even with the best +intentions. That is a well-known fact in connection with wishing by the +moon. I have it on the authority of both Mrs. Muir and Heppie. Being in +a hurry, I grew confused, and so could think of nothing more important +than to wish for my knight never to forget me in future, wherever he may +be. And just as I'd finished, he said, "Well? What did you wish?" + +Of course I couldn't tell him such a wish as that; but, luckily, you +must never let anybody know what you've wished by a moon or a star, if +you want the wish to come true. + +I explained this to Sir S., and he said, as far as he was concerned, it +didn't matter, for he hadn't wished after all. "Oh, what a waste of the +heather moon!" I cried, for it really seemed too bad. But he answered +that the only thing he particularly wished for just then was a thing +which wasn't fair to wish, on account of the 'other party concerned.' I +laughed, and said if he had _wished_ to wish, he had wished, in spite of +himself, and the heather moon had heard; because that's the business of +any well-trained new moon, and the heather moon is the best-trained of +the year. "'The other party concerned' must just take the risk," I said. +"And very likely 'twill be the best thing for him, her, or it in the +end." + +"I daren't hope that," said he, looking up at the silver sickle as +earnestly as if we weren't talking nonsense. + +"Don't you think the heather moon knows best?" I reproached him. But he +did not answer, and only hummed under his breath, as we walked to the +waiting car: + + "How far, how far to Gretna? + It's years and years away-- + And coach-and-four shall nevermore + Fling dust across the day." + +All the way along the shadowy, switchback road from Dumfries going to +Sweetheart Abbey (I like to write the name, it is so pretty and +old-fashioned) we had glimpses of the moon scattering silver through the +tree branches as she fell down the west. I thought the soft white curve +like a baby's arm, rounded at the elbow; and it waved us good-night over +the heather-clad mound of Criffel, as a baby might wave over the fat +shoulder of a big nurse dressed in purple. It is _cheek_ of Criffel to +call itself a mountain, and of course it wouldn't dare to if there were +other real mountains within twenty-five miles. + +When I made this remark Mrs. James asked me where, in my sequestered +life, I had got hold of such an unladylike word as "cheek," but I told +her I must have been born knowing it, as there was never a time in my +memory when I didn't. Also Mr. Douglas had used it several times in +Carlisle Castle. + +"Haven't you forgotten him yet?" asked Sir S. + +"It would be silly to forget, and have to make his acquaintance over +again at Edinburgh," I said. "He asked me particularly to think of him +during our trip whenever I should see the Douglas Heart. Now I have just +seen it at Lincluden." + +"Douglas Heart indeed! Douglas cheek!" I heard Sir S. mutter. + +There is one part of that road between Dumfries and Sweetheart Abbey I +shall never forget: the view from Whinny Hill--a sudden view springing +from behind trees, as if a green curtain had been pulled back from a +picture. In this picture there were the silver Nith, and purple Criffel +of course (which always tries to get itself noticed wherever you turn), +a great forty-foot monument put up to commemorate Waterloo; and again +the red triangle of Caerlaverock glowing on the green shore of the +Solway Firth. + +I suppose the people who were shy of seeming sentimental insisted on +calling Sweetheart Abbey New Abbey. I can imagine Sir S. voting for the +change, because I fancy that he would endure torture rather than be +thought sentimental. He describes a place or a thing or a person +glowingly, then hurries to cap his description with a few joking or even +ironical words, lest he should be suspected of romance or enthusiasm. + +The village is called New Abbey too, so it is safe to mention that to +the driest person. It was just beginning to be evening, an evening +softly gray as doves' wings folding down, when our Dragon sidled toward +an inn it saw, quite a nice little inn, where Sir S. announced that we +would stop the night. Before going in, however, he took us to look at a +queer bas-relief built into the wall of a whitewashed cottage on the +left side of the road. It showed three ladies industriously rowing a +boat across the ferry--pious dames who brought all the stones from +Caerlaverock, on the other side of the Solway, to build the Abbey. + +"Rock of the Lark" is a delightful name, but Sweetheart Abbey is +prettier, and the reason of the name is the prettiest part. Only I wish +that the devoted Devorgilla who built the Abbey of Dolce Cor to be a big +sacred box for the heart of her husband had had a worthier object of +worship than the king, John Balliol. All the history I have ever read +makes him out to be a weak and cowardly and rather treacherous person; +but, as Sir S. said, "Mirabeau judged by the people and Mirabeau judged +by his friends were two men"; and I suppose John must have put himself +out to be charming to Devorgilla, or she wouldn't have wandered about +with his heart in an ebony box inlaid with silver, and insisted on +having it on the table in front of her when she ate her dinner. That was +one way of keeping her husband's heart during her whole lifetime--and +even after death, for of course she had it buried with her. It must have +been glad of a little rest by that time, the poor heart, for it had so +much travelling to do. I suppose it even went as far as Oxford when +Devorgilla founded Balliol College. + +The last shaft of the sun was turned off the rose-coloured ruin and the +secluded valley where the cross-shaped Abbey hides from the world; and +the moon was gone, too, swept away like a tiny boat on a wave of sunset. +Still, it was full daylight, and Sir S. announced that he had a plan. +This plan was for us to go (as soon as we'd seen our rooms, which he had +engaged by telegram) and get permission to enter the Abbey by twilight, +when no one else was there. + +The little gray inn of the town looked no bigger than a good-sized +private house, but it was the very first hotel of my life, and I +regarded it as an Epoch, with a capital E. That point of view was upheld +later by the heavenly scones and honey they gave us--heather honey, gold +as the heather moon. And we had cool, clean rooms, suitable for the +dreaming of sweet dreams. _My_ dreams there seemed very important. + +The great Somerled can of course get anything he wants to ask for if he +chooses to reveal himself--anyhow, in Scotland; because already I am +beginning to learn that even the smallest or humblest Scottish peasant +knows all that's worth knowing, not only of the past but of the present, +and has heard of all the celebrities. Maybe there might be miniature +places in England, America, Germany, or France where the poor and +uneducated would know nothing of Somerled the painter and millionaire. +But in Scotland, apparently, though there are many poor, there are no +uneducated persons. Those to whom his being a painter would mean nothing +would be interested in his money. Those who didn't care for his millions +of dollars would have read about his painting: and all would value him +because he belongs to Scotland. + +As soon as our luggage was in our rooms and dinner ordered, Sir Somerled +inquired if we were ready for the Abbey; but Mrs. James mildly asked if +we would mind going without her. She had begun to realize that she was +tired, and would like to rest. She could go by herself to the Abbey +early in the morning before starting time. I felt that I ought to mind +more than I did, but I couldn't help liking to be with Sir S. alone. It +seemed like the night of our first meeting; for some one had always been +with us, more or less, ever since. It was only a short stroll through +the village, not enough to call a walk. A dear little lady who lives in +a nice cottage close to the ruin opened the iron gate, but she did not +go in with us, because it was time for her supper. She had a photograph +done from one of the great Somerled's most famous pictures, and if he +had been a long she could not have been more polite. + +At first, the inside of the shell-like Abbey with the beautiful name was +a disappointment. The green grass was encumbered with tasteless graves +and flat modern stones which looked as if they had lain down there +without permission. + +We wandered about rather forlornly for a while, until we found +Devorgilla's thirteenth-century tomb. Sir S. told me her history, and +waked the sad old place to living interest. I seemed to see the +ever-loving lady, followed by her chosen maidens carrying the heart in +its ebony and silver box. And together we made up a theory, that of +every event _something_ reminiscent lingers on the spot where it +happened. If only our eyes were different, we should be able, wherever +we went, to see filmy, mysterious pictures painted on air--fadeless, +moving photographs of all the people and all the deeds which have made +up the world's history. + +This set us talking of our own pictures, which we are leaving behind us +as we go through life; and I couldn't help thinking how he and I, in +accordance with this idea, will for ever and ever go on being "married" +at Gretna Green. I laughed at the thought, and he asked me why, so I +told him. + +"When you're marrying your real wife, years from now maybe, and have +forgotten my existence, that scene will still be enacting itself," I +said, "not only on the films the photograph men took, but on air films. +Doesn't it frighten you?" I asked. + +"Doesn't it frighten you?" he echoed. "Because you will marry. I never +shall." + +"How do you know?" I catechized him. + +"If I can't have the wife I want, I'll have none." + +"Perhaps you can have the one you want if you ask her nicely." + +"I don't intend to ask. I'm not the right one for her." + +"You might let her decide that!" I nobly said, for Mrs. West may be the +woman. "I do hope, if men ever love me, they'll tell me so." + +"No fear! They will." He laughed more loudly than I have heard him +laugh. + +"But the right one mayn't, if he thinks as you do." + +"He won't. He'll be thinking only of himself. But look here, my girl, be +sure you _do_ take the right one when you marry; for if in my opinion +you're likely to make a big mistake when the time comes, I may be +tempted to put a spoke in the fellow's wheel." + +"Please do!" I laughed. + +"You think I'm joking," he said, watching me in a way he has, between +narrowed lids, his eyes almost black in the twilight. "And so I am to a +certain extent. Yet I might forbid the banns, perhaps--if I chose." + +"But how?" + +"Haven't you any idea?" + +"Not half a one." + +"Then I won't tell. It would only worry you--for nothing. Marry in +peace, when your Prince comes, and I'll send you my blessing--from far +away." + +"I don't like to think of your being far away," I said. "Let's not talk +of it. For you are my only friend--except Mrs. James. And you're so +different." + +"I thank Heaven!" he said. "And I thank her for wanting a rest. Good as +she is, three would be a crowd in Sweetheart Abbey." + +Speaking of her made me think of the time. We had promised Mrs. James to +go back in half an hour for dinner! Already more than half an hour had +slipped away as we made our air-film photographs to haunt Sweetheart +Abbey with all its other ghosts. + +The twilight was changing to a light more mysterious, and as we looked +at each other through the opal haze I felt strangely that we were +changing too. It was as if our realities were less real than the shadow +pictures which were to live on here together forever--as if our bodies, +which would go away and separate, to live different lives far away from +one another, would not be _us_ any more. + +I could not have imagined so wonderful a light as that which illuminated +the great rose-window and filled the vast broken shell of the Abbey. It +was as if the day had been poured out of a cup, and night was being +slowly poured in--the dove-gray night of dreams. It was pale, yet not +bright like the light of dawn. It was more like a light glimmering over +a sheet of water, a light made of the water itself. Almost I expected to +see the Heart rise up in the ebony and silver box, and the box opening. + +"You look like a young seeress," my Knight said. "What is it that you +see with your great eyes gazing through the dusk?" + +"I see--a heart," I answered. "I think I see a heart." + +"That is very intelligent of you," he said, in a changed tone. "Come, +child, it's time I took you home." + +"Is there the ghost of a heart floating here?" I asked, wishing to +linger. But he took my hand and drew me toward the gate. + +"To me," he said dryly, "it appears to be a real heart--almost too real +for comfort." + +We walked back to the inn, and he was uninterestingly commonplace all +the way. He talked about dinner, and buying petrol for the car, and told +me dull facts about tiresome things called carburettors. It would have +been a horrid anticlimax, spoiling all the romance of Sweetheart Abbey, +if he had not changed later on. But he did change. There was a little +piano in the sitting-room they gave us, and Mrs. James began drumming +out a few Scotch airs, warbling the words in a high, thin voice rather +like that of an intelligent insect. There was one tune I knew, and I +couldn't resist joining in. At the end Sir S. applauded. + +"What a pity her grandmamma wouldn't let her take lessons, as I once +ventured to suggest!" said Mrs. James. "She has a true ear, and a sweet +voice wonderfully like her mother's, which I quite well remember. But +Mrs. MacDonald had the idea that music lessons would lead to vanity. +Don't you think, sir" (she often slips in a respectful "sir"), "that her +voice would repay instruction?" + +"I do," pronounced the great Somerled. + +"I'm sure _you_ sing," went on Mrs. James. "I flatter myself I can +always tell by people's faces." + +"Like Barrie, I never had lessons," he said. "But I suppose we +Highlanders are born with music in our blood." + +"Then you do sing?" she persisted. + +"Only to please myself. Not that it does!" + +"Will you sing to please us?" + +"It wouldn't please you." + +"Barrie, _you_ ask." + +"The Princess commands!" I said, not expecting him to humour my +impudence, but he did, by going at once to the piano. It had lisped and +stammered awkwardly for Mrs. James, but it obeyed him as if the keys +were mesmerized. He played a prelude, and then sang "Annie Laurie," in a +soft, mellow voice, so low that people outside the room could hardly +have heard. It seemed as if there must really be an "Annie Laurie" in +his life. Surely a man could not sing like that, and look like that in +singing, unless he called up the face of some woman he loved. I wondered +if he thought of Mrs. West, who is so very pretty, and rather like the +description of "Annie Laurie." His eyes looked far away as he sang, +through the wall--oh, yes, I'm sure they could see through the wall at +that moment--perhaps as far as "Maxwellton Braes"; perhaps still +farther, searching for Mrs. West wherever she might be. + +I don't know how it would make one feel if such a man with such a voice +looked into one's eyes and sang a song of love. I'm afraid it might make +one rather foolish. But it was only at the wall that Sir S. stared until +he began a very different song--the lament of a Highlander who would +nevermore see his island home nor the love of his youth. It was a +heart-breaking song; and though his voice was pitched so low it was +almost like singing in a whisper, there was a strange, vibrating power +in it, as there is in the strings of a violin touched but lightly by the +bow. Sir S. transferred his attention from the wall to me as he sang +this sad old ballad, and I could not look away, because there was the +same compelling power in his eyes as in his voice. No doubt it was only +of the song he thought, not of me at all, really; yet I could not shake +off the haunting impression of the look, and it made me dream of him all +night. I saw him standing beside me in the strange, pale twilight of +Sweetheart Abbey. And in his hand was a box of ebony, inlaid with +silver, which he held out. But when I took the box it was locked, and he +had no key. "Only the key of the rainbow will open this box," he said. +And then I woke up, feeling somehow as if the dream were of importance, +and I must try to find out why. + + + + +VII + + +Next morning when I saw Sir S. I felt confused and vaguely ashamed, as +if something had happened. But, of course, nothing had happened, nothing +at all. I kept on reminding myself of that until I was at ease again. +And his manner helped me to realize how silly I was, for almost he +seemed to go out of his way to put on the commonplace air I had +disliked. It was as if he wrapped himself up in a big, rough coat, +smelling of tobacco smoke, and rather old and shabby, with the collar +well turned up. + +We started early, long before eight, and Mrs. James remarked, while we +were dressing--calling out from her room to mine through the open +door--that there was more credit for Sir S. than for us in liking an +early start. Many men as successful and flattered and rich as he, she +said, would have grown luxurious in their tastes, and lazy. They would +loathe getting up at six, and staying in tiny hotels, and fussing about +to help their chauffeurs when anything went wrong with their cars. They +would hate so much having to pack bags and look after themselves that +they would find it impossible to enjoy travelling without a valet; but +here was this man, used to every luxury, and able to command it, putting +himself to trouble of all sorts and even enduring hardships as +cheerfully as a "little bank clerk out for a holiday with his sister and +aunt." + +I agreed with her, and I suppose bank clerks are as interesting a class +as any; but I'm glad Sir S. is not one. And it is more fun being his +princess than his sister. Mrs. James may be his aunt if she likes. I +wouldn't be it for all his millions. + +He asked her again if she would like to try the front seat, but she +politely refused, and then, with his rough-coat, turned-up-collar-air, +he invited me to take it. Something deep down in me, like a little live +creature whispering, told me to make him turn down that collar and throw +off that rough coat. It did seem such a _waste_, to have him wearing his +commonplace airs while we travelled through the most adorable country we +had seen yet. I wanted him and me and the scenery all to be romantic +together, and so I told him at last. "But if I'm determined to keep on +the safe side of romance?" he said. + +"If you've decided to be dull and disagreeable," I threatened, "I shan't +give you the 'rainbow key' when I find it. I'll hand it over to somebody +else." + +"Will you?" he said. "Be sure the somebody else deserves it, then." + +This annoyed me. Because I'm looking for the rainbow key for _him_, not +somebody else. "At present I don't happen to know anybody else I'd care +to give it to," I remarked. + +"Ay," said he, "there's the rub. You know so few. But it will be +different when the princess has a dozen knights all in the competition." + +"Perhaps other knights won't notice that I'm a princess." + +"Judging from what I've observed, I think they'll be quick to notice +that." + +"Well, it remains to be seen." + +"Just so. It remains to be seen." His voice sounded sad or bored, so I +tried to be tactful for once, like Mrs. West, and changed the subject. + +This was the road which Carlyle thought the most beautiful in the +kingdom. Going to Mainsriddle and Dalbeattie we skimmed through dark, +haunted-looking woods, to sudden glimpses of far-down yellow sands and +floating forms of mountains. The tide was running out or running in, +veining the floor of gold with misty blue traceries, and making bright +pools like bits of broken glass. The trees along our way were a +procession of benevolent giants holding green umbrellas over our heads, +because they mistook us for expected royalties; and on the smooth white +surface of the road they had scattered shadows like torn black Spanish +lace. Criffel followed us everywhere, trying jealously to keep us from +noticing that the noble mountains of Cumberland were still watching us +out of sight, across the Solway Firth. And indeed, Criffel, with some +small brother hills he had to-day collected, like the hasty gathering of +a clan, did manage to destroy the effect of distance so far as he and +his brethren were concerned. He and all the rest, no matter how far off, +pushed themselves into the foreground by means of their colour, so +violent a purple that it struck at the eyes, and vibrated in the ears +like rich wild notes of an organ rolling over the uplands of Scotland. +Only the sands and the sea looked distant, though really they were near; +and I worried about the groups of cattle gossiping so pleasantly +together about their cuds and calves. They had a placid air of ignoring +such large facts of life as incoming tides, and could never have read +what happened to Mary and her cows on the sands of Dee, a resort only +less fashionable in the cattle world than their own. + +Lights on sky and sands, seen through the netting of tree branches, were +like sweet bursts of laughter in the forests; and the glory of the +heather was a wordless song in praise of Scotland. Yet in these flying +Galloway landscapes there was an impression of the mystic and +melancholy, which reminded Sir S. of "The Twilight of the Gods": strange +purple rocks jutting out into water coldly bright as a sheet of mercury, +and desolate islands remote and haunted as the place where Gunter and +his sister lived in the opera. We seemed to be travelling through vast, +lonely places, though it was but a part of Galloway, and all Scotland is +but small--just large enough to give an eyeful of beauty always. + +When we came to the sparkling granite town of Dalbeattie (a miniature +Aberdeen, Sir S. called it) instead of going straight on toward +Kirkcudbright we turned westward to see the great stronghold of the +Black Douglases. It was no more than seven easy miles to Castle Douglas, +a little modern town all laid out in rectangles. Sailing straight +through, we came out on the edge of Carlingwark Loch, which rings a few +green islets with silver; and taking a side road we were close to the +river Dee. There, on a cushion of an island, only big enough to hold it, +rose the great ruin of Thrieve Castle, the home of the proud and +magnificent Douglases. Once boats must have carried the knights and +ladies back and forth between the mainland and the fourteenth-century +fastness of old Archibald the Grim. But now I saw a line of +half-submerged stepping-stones, the only way of crossing in these days +when there is no fighting or feasting at Thrieve, and no "tassel" +dangling from the knoblike "hanging stone" over the great gate. + + "Workers of high-handed outrage! + Making King and people grieve, + O the lawless Lords of Galloway! + O the bloody towers of Thrieve!" + +Sir S. quoted as we stared up at the giant keep, seventy feet high, with +its tremendous walls. "They were a terrible power in the land, that +family, at their greatest, when they lorded it over Galloway and +Annandale, and owned Touraine and Longueville in France, and used to +ride out with a retinue of a thousand picked horsemen." + +"That nice soldier yesterday--Mr. Douglas at Carlisle--thinks they were +a _charming_ family," said I. "He has an old proverb something like +this: + + "So many, so good as of Douglases have been + Of one surname in Scotland never yet was seen." + +and he told me a great deal about the Douglas Heart." + +"He would!" mumbled Sir S. "There were good hearts and bad hearts among +them, but all were great hearts in the old days; anyhow, I'm not +surprised that Crockett got inspiration from this place when he used to +play here, coming over from Castle Douglas, where he was at school. He +must have had his head buzzing with story plots when he'd climbed up +inside the walls and crawled out to sit astride of the hanging stone. +I'll warrant he saw Maclellan beheaded in the courtyard while Sir +Patrick Gray, the King's messenger, supped with Douglas; and heard Mons +Meg fire off the first granite cannon-ball, that shot away the hand of +the Countess as she held a wine-glass up, drinking confusion to her +enemies. No wonder little boy Crockett got absent-minded one day, when +he dropped his watch instead of a pebble in wanting to test the time the +stone would take to fall." + +The next bit of Crockett-lore I heard was at Auchencairn in the deep, +indented bay we'd reached by turning south for the coast again. There, +it seemed, we were in the heart of Crockettland, for Hestan Island is +the Rathan Island of the "Raiders." All round was sweet, welcoming +country, low mountains and rippling meadows, where it seemed that the +Douglas soldiers had laid their glittering helmets down in long straight +ranks on a carpet of cloth o' gold. Over these fields of garnered wheat +came a breeze from the sea, with a tang of salt like a tonic mixture, +and there was a murmurous sound on the air, a message from the tide. + +There were hundreds of historic things to see, in every direction, if we +had had time for all: traces of the Attecott Picts; Pict forts and +tombs, castles of the Middle Ages; robber caves; Convenanters' +monuments; and at Balcarry, near Auchencairn, the landing-place of the +smuggler Yawkins, who was Scott's "Dirk Hatteraick." But we had only +five days for everything before the Great Day--which will be coming so +soon now. From Auchencairn we turned inland to a rolling country where +the Gray Dragon would be down one hill and halfway up another before he +knew what had happened. At Dundrennan--"Hill of the Thorn Bushes"--he +had his first mishap; but after the surprise of thinking a bomb had +exploded, I was glad he'd seized just that opportunity of bursting a +tire, because it gave us more time for the Abbey than we should have +given ourselves. + +While the chauffeur made the dragon's toilet, patching up a fat white +foot as he might have doctored the pad of an elephant, we wandered +about, and finally decided to lunch in a secluded corner of the +twelfth-century ruins. + +Mrs. James and I set out our picnic-table, a folding thing that Sir S. +carries in the car, and we counted on having the place to ourselves. +Tourists though we are, we scorn other tourists. But it seems incredible +that such as they can scorn us. We talked about Queen Mary and of her +last meal within those walls, and it felt sacrilegious to laugh and joke +where she had been so sad. We pictured her, young and beautiful, taking +leave of the loyal men who had begged her in vain not to trust +Elizabeth; and we could fancy the town turning out to see her vessel set +sail--a very different town it would have been then from the charming +little place it is to-day, with its low white cottages half covered with +flowers, the spotless walls as clean as damask tablecloths, and all so +gay and bright to the eye that grim Dundrennan Abbey in its midst is +like a skull fallen in a rose-garden. + +"Ah," sighed Mrs. James, shaking her head, with a jam puff in her hand, +"if the Queen had listened to Maxwell she might have lived in safety to +be an old woman!" + +"True, she might have kept her head," Sir S. agreed, comfortably cutting +himself a piece of plum cake; "but if she'd taken Maxwell's advice, +instead of sailing from Port Mary, never to see Scotland again, wouldn't +the whole civilized world miss its best-loved heroine of romance? No +other woman since history began has so captured the hearts of men, and +made herself so adored through the centuries, in spite of all her +faults, or because of them. Mary Stuart and Napoleon Bonaparte are the +two figures in history of whom no one ever tires of talking or reading." + +"Still, we must be sad at Dundrennan, where her last night in Scotland +was spent," Mrs. James mildly persisted, having eaten her puff while Sir +S. argued. "I wonder if Michael Scott the magician, who lived here (he +comes into the "Lay of the Last Minstrel," you know), had prophetic +visions of Queen Mary and her fate? I should think so, for he had the +secret of all sorts of spells. The people of the neighbourhood believed +that he'd locked up the plague in an underground room of the Abbey, and +for years they dared not excavate for fear the demon should leap out and +ravage the country. They used to think they could hear a rustling----" + +At that instant we heard one ourselves; a distinct rustling fell upon +our ears, and made us turn round with a start. The plague we feared was +tourists; but if it had been Michael Scott's demon, with a scarlet body +and a green head, I should have liked it better than Mrs. West's pale +purple coat and motoring bonnet. I don't know how Sir S. felt about the +surprise, but that was _my_ feeling, though I was glad to see her +brother. I find him the nicest thing about Mrs. West. + +"Who would have thought of running against you?" she exclaimed, as Sir +S. jumped up from the table and shook hands as cordially as if there had +never been that mysterious row. "We've come from Port Mary, where Basil +sentimentalized over the stone Queen Mary stood on to get into her ship. +We haven't the patience to make our notes before luncheon! We're _so_ +hungry, and there's such a lot to write about King David--_do_ you think +he built the Abbey, or was it Fergus, Lord of Galloway?--and all this +architecture which interests Basil even when he's starving! We've +brought our own sandwiches--we won't bother you----" + +Of course Sir S. and Mrs. James both protested that having them was a +pleasure, not a bother. As for me, I remembered that little girls should +be seen and not heard, so I said nothing, and ate the nicest cake for +fear Mrs. West might get it. Sir S. gave his place at the table and his +folding-chair to Mrs. West, and finished his luncheon, standing up, with +Mr. Norman. After all, Mrs. West didn't seem to be hungry. She ate +scarcely anything, and when Sir S. asked her to have some ice-cold white +wine from the refrigerator basket, she said with a soft, sad smile, "'I +drink to thee only with mine eyes.'" Then, suddenly, hers filled with +tears, so they were liquid enough for a good long drink! She looked down +again quickly, with a blush which gave her complexion a peach-like +bloom; and Sir S. made haste to question Mr. Norman about the hired car. +But I could see that he was embarrassed and distressed, and wondered +more than ever what their quarrel was about. Sir S. wouldn't listen to +me the first day, when I said it was my fault, and I oughtn't to go in +his car. I'd almost forgotten that, it seemed so long ago; but I +remembered when I saw the tears in her eyes, and heard the strained +sound in his voice. Even Mr. Norman didn't look happy. Mrs. James was +the only one not affected. She ate her luncheon with a good appetite, +which the sorrows of neither Mrs. West nor Queen Mary could take away +from her. + +When we had finished, Mrs. West asked Sir S. in a gentle hesitating way +if he would mind explaining to her the beautiful Gothic doorway at the +south side of the church. It was such a chance to find a great authority +on architecture, like him, upon the very spot, for she and Basil were so +ignorant, they always feared to make mistakes in their notes. Sir S. +went like a lamb led by a chain of roses, but apparently Mr. Norman +didn't feel the same need of expert advice. He stopped with Mrs. James +and me, and helped us clear the table. When we'd packed everything up, +he offered to take the basket to the car; and, as the others hadn't come +back, I went with him, carrying the folding-chairs, which were not much +heavier than three feathers. + +"Have you remembered my advice?" he inquired. "Have you begun to write?" + +"Yes, a little," I said. "What about your book?" + +He shrugged his shoulders, looking melancholy. + +"Won't the plot come right?" I asked. + +"No. Nothing comes right." + +"What a pity!" + +"Yes, it's a pity. But I can't help it." + +"Can't Mrs. West help?" + +"She's not in the mood. Not that it's all her fault. Probably it's just +as much mine. We're getting on each other's nerves--and that's new to +us. There won't be a book. There can't be a book as things are." + +"Yet you're going on with your trip?" + +"Oh, yes, we're going on with our trip. Aline wouldn't give that up." + +"If it hadn't been for me," I said, "it would have been all right for +you both. I feel a _beast_! I've spoiled everything." + +"You're a witch, and you've bewitched us. Yes! That's what you have +done." + +"Thanks for your polite way of putting it," said I. "'Witch' is a nicer +epithet than 'beast.' I wish--I almost wish--I'd never seen any of you!" + +"I don't," said he. "And I don't believe Somerled does. To go back to +the time when we didn't know that the witch-child existed would be going +back from electricity to candles." + +"You have a pretty way of poking fun at me," I laughed. "But I suppose +you mean I've given you all a shock. Well, you'll soon be rid of me. +Three days more, and the end! But I do wish I knew how to mend matters +and make you and your sister happy again, at once." + +"I could tell you how," he said quickly. + +"Do, then! You've just time, if you hurry up before the others come." + +He looked round, and there were Mrs. James and Mrs. West walking toward +us with Sir S. They were very near. + +He hesitated, and his face grew red. "Will you promise not to be angry?" +he almost whispered. + +"I promise! Tell me." + +"If you want to make everything come right for everybody in a minute, +you must turn your attention entirely to me." + +"What good would that do?" I asked stupidly. + +"It would do me all the good in the world, because, as I told you, +you've bewitched me. It would do my sister good because--well, because +she's particularly anxious for you to like me. And it would do Somerled +good because--it might teach him his own mind--bring him to his senses." + +"I don't understand one word you're talking about!" I broke out. + +"It doesn't so much matter what you understand as what you do. Dear +little Miss MacDonald, will you try and be very, very kind to me, +for--everybody's sake?" + +"Of course," said I. "But you must call me Barrie." + +"Thank you! That's one step. Will you call me Basil?" + +"If you like," I answered. "Basil and Barrie! Don't they sound nice +together?" + +Just then the others came up and heard what I said, which made me feel +foolish, as they'd missed the first part. But Mrs. West beamed at me. I +had been thinking that Basil Norman was the sort of man I should love to +have for a brother, but Mrs. West as a sister I could _not_ stand! + +"Basil and Barrie _look_ nice together too, don't they, Mr. Somerled?" +she remarked. + +"Very," said he dryly. And the next thing I knew was that she was +sitting beside him on the front seat, and I was tucked in beside Mrs. +James, with Basil Norman opposite. Their motor, it seemed, was not +behaving well, and Aline was nervous, so Sir S. had suggested, as we +were all going on to Ayr, that they should come with us for the rest of +the day. + +I felt rather dazed about everything, and I'm afraid made a hash of the +scenery in my mind, until I had calmed down. I remember that we swept +through Kirkcudbright, which was named for St. Cuthbert because his +bones were once in the church. They were taking them on somewhere else, +but I don't know why. Basil told us all about it; but it sounded so odd +to hear him talking instructively of saints and Covenanters and martyrs, +and "the torch of religion being first lighted in Galloway," after he +had been begging me in a very different voice to "be nice to him," that +it muddled up my intelligence. I liked the town because it was pretty, +with graceful spires and lovely, ivied ruins; but I didn't care much +about the saints, or even about the last Lord Selkirk, for whom they put +up a Celtic cross in the Kirkcudbright market place; and I couldn't be +bothered pronouncing Kirkcudbright correctly. Of course it's done in the +last way you think it possibly could be, like all other Scottish names! +I brightened up a little at the story of Paul Jones at St. Mary's Isle, +because pirates are always nice, and he was classic. Besides, it was +amusing of him to fail to kidnap Lord Selkirk and steal a silver teapot +instead. To please Benjamin Franklin he gave the teapot back, so he +didn't get much out of that adventure! + +I remember too that there were hills on the way to Gatehouse of Fleet, +hills which turned their backs and reared on their hind legs as we saw +them in the distance; but always they knelt meekly in front of the Gray +Dragon, as if he beat them to their knees. They were not so +accommodating to the hired car which followed. Something was the matter +with its internal economy. It grunted and groaned and emitted +evil-smelling fumes because it couldn't digest its petrol. Basil named +the creature Old Blunderbore, but said he would not dare to call it so +before its chauffeur-owner, who glared behind his goggles when it was +blamed for anything. + +Gatehouse of Fleet looked, according to Basil, like places in Holland, +because sailing ships were apparently moving through fields, and masts +mixing themselves up with tree branches. Suddenly we had plunged into +Scott country, sandwiched in with Crockett, for Gatehouse is the +"Kippletingan" of "Guy Mannering." There was a sweet, sad smell of the +sea; and I heard Mrs. West ask Sir S. if it didn't remind him of "that +last night on the ship, when we told each other things?" + +About this time, I think it must have been, we began to see so many old +castles dotted about the landscape that at last we almost ceased to +notice them. It must have been nice living in one of those box-like +fortress castles in old days, when all your friends had them too; so +jolly and self-contained. And, as a matter of course, when you built one +you had a few dungeons put in, just as one has plenty of bathrooms now +in a big house. If you were of a dramatic turn of mind, you placed your +dungeons mostly under your dining-hall, so you could hear the starving +prisoners groan while you feasted comfortably. We passed several dear +little towns, too, which I should like to have for toys, to keep in +boxes when not playing with them. On most of the houses were charming +chimney-pots of different colours, exactly like immense chessmen, set +out ready for a game. All the men in these towns looked almost ill with +intelligence. Most of the girls were very pretty, with little coquettish +features contradicted by saintly expressions, and even the dogs appeared +well educated and intellectual. + +At Newton-Stewart a change came over the houses, but not the people or +animals. I felt that the smallest child would know more about books than +I did; and there was hardly a nondescript face to be seen. All could be +classified in historic Scottish types. But the whitewashed, thatched +cottages in the suburbs would have looked Irish if they had not been too +preternaturally clean. In the streets of Newton-Stewart there was not so +much as a stray stick or bit of paper. It looked to me a deeply +religious place, and Basil said perhaps it was trying to be worthy of +St. Ninian, who first brought Christianity to Scotland. He was a native +of the Solway shore, but went to Rome, where they liked him very much +and made him a bishop. Then he felt impelled to convert his own people, +so he sailed from France and landed at the island of Whithorn, which is +now an excursion place from Newton-Stewart. That sounds irreverent, but, +after all, an excursion is only a kind of pilgrimage; and even if people +are catching fish or eating them, they can be pleased to be at the one +place in Scotland where Christianity has gone on without interruption by +Vikings or others for fifteen hundred years. + +Then, besides, Newton-Stewart has a monument of Samuel Rutherford to +live up to. And they ought to have one of his namesake, Samuel +Rutherford Crockett, who has done so much for Galloway. + +It was in honour of his "Raiders" that we took the longest way to Ayr. +Some of the best things in that book happened near Loch Trool, so we +wanted to see Loch Trool. Bruce was there too; but this was a Crockett +tour. We should have gone perhaps, even if the run had been dull, for +it's only thirteen miles from Newton-Stewart, paradise of fishermen, to +the hidden lake; but the thirteen miles turned out to be a panorama of +beauty. Sir S. was surprised by its loveliness, though he knew by heart +Burns's poem, "The Banks of the Cree." We did not come at once to the +river; but from House o' Hill (delicious name!) we plunged into a wild, +forgotten paradise. The road lay under an arbour of trees like an +emerald tunnel, with a break here and there in the green wall to show a +blue shimmer of mountains and hills in the distance. We seemed to have +slipped into the hole leading to fairyland and pulled the hole in after +us; but I knew I was not going to enjoy getting there as much as if my +gray bonnet and coat had been on the front seat instead of Mrs. West's +purple beauties. It was suddenly that we came into sight and sound of +the river, and so deep was the stillness that we might have strayed into +the haunt of a sleeping nymph. Nothing moved but the rushing brown +water, and there was no sound, when we stopped to listen, but its joyous +song and the humming of bees in bracken and heather. + +Basil can "make believe" more easily and less stiffly than Sir S., +because he is an author, and used to stringing whimsies together. He and +I "pretended" that the bees were a fairy band, playing to a hidden +audience in a theatre roofed with the silver sheen of arching ferns. +Wafts of perfume came to us, cooled in woodsy dells, or warmed on +sunshiny banks of flowers; but not a soul could be seen anywhere, nor a +house. We knew that this was an inhabited world only by the wires +stretched across the river for the sending of letters and parcels. + +Sunset-time had not nearly come yet, but already a silver slit was torn +in the blue of the sky; and for the second time the heather moon was +smiling its bright semicircular smile, as if to say, "Make the most of +me, Barrie, _your_ time is short!" Yet how could I make the most of her +when I could see only my knight's back, with a purple shoulder as close +to his as possible, and the heather moon was _ours_? + +Suddenly Basil said, "Oh, there's your heather moon! I thought of you +yesterday after it rose until it set, and wondered what you were doing. +I do believe this _is_ different from other moons. Don't you see, young +as it is, how it has power to change the yellow of the sunlight, seeming +to alloy it with silver?" + +I did see, but thought I must have fancied the effect, until he saw it +too. (We often think and see and say the same things, which is nice, but +not so exciting as the society of a man who thinks different things and +makes you argue.) The silver pouring down from that small crescent +seemed to sift through the strong golden light in a separate and +distinct radiance. It shimmered on the sea of waving hills and billowing +mountains that opened out before us, as if sprinkling a glitter of +sequins over the vivid green and amber and purple. Wherever there was +shadow this pale glimmer painted it with ethereal colours, like the +backs of rainbow fish moving under water. I might have jumped out of the +car and found the rainbow key, but nobody wanted it now! + +"Just as that young, young moon has power to shine through the strong +afternoon sunlight, so a girl may all in a moment throw her influence +over a group of people older and more experienced than herself," said +Basil, smiling at me, and then at Mrs. James, as if he didn't mind her +hearing the flowery compliment. + +"I don't know any such girl in real life," said I; "but you might work +her up for your book." + +"I shall have to put her in, if the book's to be written," said he. + +By and by we came to the lake, or, rather, far above it; and Sir S. +stopped the car to let us get out and look down. The water was a clear +green with glints of purple, as if beds of heather grew underneath. +There were jagged, bare rocks, and rocks whose shoulders were half +covered as if with torn coats of faded brocade, dim silver of lichen, +and pale pink of wild flowers. I hoped that Sir S. might join me for a +look at the heather moon lying deep in the lake like a broken bracelet, +but he didn't come. He looked at me very kindly from a distance, not +coldly, yet not warmly, and he stayed with Mrs. West. + +It was Basil who told me about Robert Bruce and his men hiding here, and +rolling huge stones on the heads of the English soldiers who marched +along the bank of the lake in search of the "outlaws." It seemed as if +nothing terrible could have happened in so sweet a wilderness; but that +was not the only horror. There were other wild deeds in history, and in +the story of the "Raiders," memories of hunts for Covenanters, and great +killings. But now all is peace, and I should have thought Loch Trool +forgotten by the world if, in a dell of birch, rowan, hazel trees, and +great pines like green umbrellas, I had not spied a roof. + +Sir S. said it was the roof of Lord Galloway's shooting-lodge, loved by +its owner because it was "out of tourist zone." So much the worse for +tourists! So much the better for Lord Galloway! + +I should hate to think of the road to Loch Trool smoking with motor +dust. Of course our own Gray Dragon's pure dust is a different matter! + +As we ran out of Crockett land into Ayrshire we came into Wallace land; +for every foot of Scotland is taken up twice over by something or +somebody wonderful. There isn't an inch left for new history-makers. If +we could see those "emanations" Sir S. talks of--those ghost +pictures--as far as the eye could reach we should see men marching, +splendid men and women, too, who have made the world shine with their +deeds, processions coming from every direction, out of the dim beginning +of things up to the present day. + +After the wildness of Loch Trool we had a country of plenteousness and +peace. Basil said it was like a Surrey set down by the sea, so I suppose +Surrey has big trees and flowery hedges and rolling downs, purple with +heather. But surely no heather can be as purple as Scottish heather? + +The sands of Girvan seemed to float like a golden scarf on the blue sea, +and the town looked a romantic, mediæval place till we shot into it. +Then we were disillusioned as to its age; but Ailsa Craig was noble in +the distance, and a few members of the gull colony had flapped over to +give town dwellers and visitors a sad serenade. "Gulls, golfers, and +geologists all love Girvan," Basil said. + +"Have you put that down in your notebook?" I inquired. + +"Not in those words. But I jotted down something about this town in +advance from authorities I've looked up. I generally keep two books +going: one in which I put the things I want to see, and ideas for plots +sometimes tangled up with a sort of diary; and another book of thoughts +about places I have already seen--thoughts I can weave into a story in +one way or another." + +"You haven't once written in either of your books to-day!" I accused +him. + +"No. I told you I'd given up note-taking for the present. I'm all at +sea. But just now it's a beautiful if not very calm sea." + +"When it quiets down you'll begin again," I consoled him. "How I should +love to see a real, live author's notebook! It would be so _useful_ to +know how you manage to--to----" + +"Record impressions," Mrs. James helped me out. + +Smiling, Basil took from a breast-pocket a small green morocco volume +with a pencil slipped into a loop. Compared to Mrs. West's pretty book, +his was a shabby thing; but it smelt of good cigarettes. + +"I'm afraid this will disillusion you," he said, "if you expect +something interesting. I simply make notes of things I want to see, or +jot down thoughts to recall pictures to my mind. Reading over one's +notebook is like glancing over a lot of kodak films. Sometimes one +sticks in a lot of nonsense." + +I opened the little volume, and ran my eyes down the short pages. +"Carlisle, Saturday, August Something or Other. Notes for Scotch Tour," +I read aloud. "Story of honeymoon. English hero--American girl. Aline +wants her Canadian. I see her American. Dispute. Must decide soon. +Reading up Galloway makes me want to go there. Aline says rush straight +on to Ayr, and save time. Hate saving time! Worst economy. More time you +spend, more you have. Must go along coast of Ayr, anyhow. Once lined +with strongholds of great families. See Dunure, Crossaguel, and deuced +lot of others. + +"Keats visited Burns's birthplace. Wrote sonnet there. Look this up. + +"Burns sought out, along banks of Ayr, places where Wallace was supposed +to have hidden. Good stuff this. Wallace fought all over the place here. +At Irvine, one of his earliest exploits. Kindled big fire, neighbouring +village. When English soldiers marched forth to put fire out, jumped on +them and killed the lot. Stuffed bodies into dungeon of castle at +Irvine. Called 'Wallace Larder' after that. Nasty larders people had in +those days. Read up account Douglas Larder. Compare the two. See which +worse. Why not call Barns of Ayr Wallace Oven? Read up Blind Harry for +picturesque story Barns of Ayr. Far as I remember, English enticed all +neighbouring Scots to powwow of some sort. Wallace expected; delay on +way. Scots executed on some pretext. When Wallace turned up, niece +warned him. He routed up few followers, set fire to barns and burnt +English, who were celebrating triumph over Wallace and his men. When get +to Ayr look this up further.... Word 'Whig' comes first from Ayr. Wonder +why? Look up. Also get Burns glossary. Dialect difficult. Aline won't +read Burns. Fear she's going to fail in this book. Thinks only of one +thing. But no matter. Courage, mon brave! + +"Sunday. Had batch bad notices of last book from America. Aline gone to +bed with headache as usual after bad reviews. Says we must economize. +She'll forget when we start and want best suites of rooms with baths +everywhere. I _know_ that book was good. Hang notices! Understand so +well what Job meant when said, 'Oh, that mine enemy would write a book!' +He wanted to criticise it. Each new boil would suggest scathing epithet. + +"Monday. Everything changed. Old plot exploded in thousand pieces. +Mustn't be honeymoon couple. Heroine radiant young girl, eighteen, hair +red as Circe's, eyes of new-born angel, comes like bombshell into hero's +life. Not good simile, bombshell. Query, hero. Would she fall in love +with man of B. N.'s type? I see another type more probable, but don't +want that. + +"August 4th. Fearful row. General upset. Don't see any book unless I +write it alone. Aline says I can save situation for her. Would like only +too well do what she wants, but difficult bring it off as things are. +Chances in favour of other man. Temptation consent be cat's-paw. Is that +fair to the lovely chestnut in the fire? Extra-ordinary that child like +this can so upset us all. What is the electric attraction we can't +resist? More than normal amount of radium, perhaps!" + +"Well, why don't you laugh at the rattle of the dry bones?" asked Basil, +as I read on, more and more puzzled. + +"I haven't come to many funny things yet," said I, "except about Job. +That was rather good, though I don't see how you weave such things into +your books." + +"Job--Job?" he repeated vaguely. Then a rush of blood went over his +whole face, up to his forehead. His dreamy dark eyes looked suddenly +anything but dreamy. "Good Heavens!" he gasped. "What have you got +there?" and began to ransack all the pockets of his waistcoat and coat +until he found the twin of the book he'd given me. "This is what I meant +you to see," he said in a queer, ashamed voice. + +I handed the first book back to him. He seized it and glanced from page +to page, looking almost ill. By and by he came to something which seemed +to scare him. As far as I could tell, it was farther toward the end than +I had read. + +"Would you mind showing me where you left off," he asked. + +"It was where you were wondering whether your new heroine had swallowed +radium or something," said I. + +"Oh!" He looked relieved. "Well--I wouldn't have had you see that +idiotic stuff for a good deal. But I told you, didn't I, that if the +book went on I'd have to put you into it? There's a lot of silly rot +there. Poetical license!" + +"The thing that made the most impression on me was the part about the +red hair," I said. "The description sounded so nice. Who was Circe, +please? Was she Scottish? It's a name a Pictish princess might have +had." + +"The first Circe lived even before the Pictish princesses," Basil +answered, quieting down, though he was still very flushed. "But she's +had a good many descendants--one or two at least in each generation of +women born in every country. Not that you--I mean the new heroine--will +be one of them really." + +"What did Circe do?" I hurried on. + +"Do? She was an exceptionally attractive woman. She had a special kind +of magnetism that nobody could resist. She amused herself by turning all +the men she knew--there were quite a lot of them--into animals of +different sorts." + +"I think it would have been cleverer and more attractive of her if she +had turned animals into men," said I. + +"That's what _my_ heroine can do," Basil explained. "She's a kind of +miniature baby Circe, for her red hair and general get up, and her +curious power of upsetting people and their plans from the first minute +they see her. But--my heroine wouldn't and couldn't turn her victims +into beasts. She makes them want to transform themselves into something +very extra special in the way of manliness." + +"Why do you call her _your_ heroine with an emphasis?" I wanted to know. +"Isn't she your sister's heroine, too?" + +"No. My sister doesn't see her as a heroine for a novel. And that's why +I say the book we started out to write won't materialize. No author can +write a story he or she doesn't take a strong interest in." + +"That's where my writing is easier," I said. "I just put down all the +things exactly as they happen, and as I see and think about them. So +there's no heroine--and no hero--and no story." + +"Yes, that is simpler," he agreed. "That's the way the Great Author +writes His book. Only all His characters are heroes and heroines in the +stories of their own lives." + +As we talked, the moon went down in the west. The sky was a pale lilac, +like a great concave mirror reflecting the heather. Then it darkened to +a deeper purple, and made my thoughts feel like pansies, as they +blossomed in my mind. We fell into silence. But Mrs. James said +afterward that was because we were hungry and didn't realize what was +the matter with us. Perhaps she was right, but it didn't seem so prosaic +at the time. + +As the car brought us near the town of Ayr (which, with its lights +coming out, reddened the purple mirror) it was too dark to see details +clearly. But, driving slowly, we were aware of a thing that loomed out +of the quiet landscape and seemed strangely foreign to it, as if we were +motoring in Greece or Italy, not Scotland. It was a great classic +temple, rising on the banks of a stream that laughed and called to us +through the twilight. + +"Can it be somebody's tomb?" I asked. But there was no cemetery, only a +garden, and close by a camel-backed bridge that crossed the surging +river. + +"It must be the Burns monument," said Basil. "I've never been here, but +I've studied up the place and looked at maps till I can see them with my +eyes shut. This is the right place for the monument, with a museum, and +some garden statues of Tam o'Shanter and Souter Johnnie, which we'll +have to visit by daylight to-morrow. I hope you're going to invite me to +sight-see with you?" + +"It's not for me to invite any one." + +"Look as if you want to, and it's done." + +"Oh, I'll do that!" I promised. + + + + +VIII + + +We stopped at a big railway-hotel when we came into Ayr. Basil and Mrs. +West took rooms there too, because it was the best in town, and Mrs. +West always wants the very best--except when she's depressed by bad +notices of her books! + +It was late, and she was so faint with hunger that she begged us not to +dress, but to go to dinner in ten minutes. We agreed; but when we'd +hurriedly washed our hands and faces and assembled at the rendezvous, +there was no Mrs. West. Basil was the only one who didn't look +surprised. Ten more minutes passed, perhaps, giving us time to think how +hungry we were too, and then the lady appeared. She hadn't exactly +dressed, but she had done something to herself which made her look fresh +and lovely and elaborate, in contrast to Mrs. James and me. + +"Dear people!" she exclaimed, "I'm so sorry if I've kept you waiting, +but I simply couldn't find a _thing_; and the more haste, the less +speed, you know. Mr. Somerled, you've been here before in your +pre-American days. Do, like an angel-man, show me the way to the +dining-room. I can never get used to going in late, with a lot of people +staring. Basil will take care of Barrie and Mrs. James." + +I felt as if I should go mad and bite something if she were to cultivate +the habit of calling me "Barrie"; but as I'd invited both her brother +and Sir S. to do so, and Mrs. James had never called me anything else, I +couldn't very well make Mrs. West the one exception. + +A good many of the hotel guests had finished dinner by that time, but +twenty or thirty were still at their tables in the big dining-room, +which seemed to me absolutely palatial after my "glass retort." +Evidently we were well in the thick of "tourist zone" again, judging by +the look of the people, for most of them had the air of having travelled +half round the world in powerful and luxurious motor-cars. You could see +they weren't "local"--with four exceptions, our nearest neighbours. I +thought they were pets; but Mrs. West stared in that pale-eyed way I +noticed women have when they wish to express superiority or contempt. + +All four of the pets were old--two very old, two elderly. The first pair +wore bonnets which they must have had for years, things that perched +irrelevantly on the tops of their heads, and looked entirely extraneous. +The second two had something more or less of the hat tribe, and Sir S. +said this was because their elders considered them girls, and granted +them the right to be frivolous in order to attract the opposite sex. +Mrs. West was sure that such headgear couldn't be got for love or money +except in small remote Scottish towns. "Might come from Thrums," said +Sir S. I'd never heard of Thrums, and Basil explained that it was a +famous place in a novel, written by a man of my name, Barrie. "The real +place is Kerrimuir," he went on, and promised to give me the book. + +At this Sir S. glanced our way for an instant, looked as if he +wanted to speak, changed his mind, and turned again to Mrs. West, next +whom he sat, with Mrs. James on his other side. No wonder, I thought, +he liked better to look at her than me, as she was so fresh and +elaborate and charming. All through dinner he talked to Mrs. West +and a little to Mrs. James, leaving Basil to entertain me, which he +did very kindly. Still, Sir S. seemed annoyed because a party of +young American men at a table near ours stared at me a good deal, +though he didn't care to pay me any attention himself. He drew his +eyebrows together and glared at them once, whereupon the nicest +looking of the four (and they were all good-looking) bowed. Sir S. +returned the nod stiffly, with an "I-wonder-if-I-really-_do_ +know-you,-or-if-this-is-a-trick-to-claim-acquaintance?" sort of +expression. + +Perhaps I ought to have been annoyed too, but I wasn't a bit. They were +_such_ nice boys, so young, and having such a glorious time! I was glad +they looked at me and not at Mrs. West, and I was sure they didn't mean +to be rude. Probably they'd seen mother, or her photographs, and were +puzzling over the resemblance which Sir S. and Basil both say is very +strong, in spite of "marked differences." Whenever we speak of her, I +feel as if I could hardly wait till Monday, though at other times the +present seems so enchanting I can't bear to have it turn into the past. + +The American boys (I thought that none of them could be over twenty-one) +lingered at their table a long time after they seemed to have finished +their dinner. They played some kind of game with bent matches which made +them laugh a good deal; but the minute we got up, I heard them push back +their chairs, though I didn't turn my head. + +Basil and I walked out of the dining-room after the rest of the party, +and the boys came close behind us. I heard one say in a low voice, "Did +you ever see such hair?" and I felt a sort of creep run all the way down +my plait and up again into my brain, because I've been brought up to +think red hair ugly, and it's hard to believe every one isn't making fun +of it. However, I remembered what Sir S. said about the flame-coloured +heads of the children in the road, and that stuff Basil wrote in his +notebook about Circe. Then I felt better, and hoped that the boys were +not laughing. + +Outside the dining-room door the handsomest one got near enough to speak +to Sir S. "How do you do, Mr. Somerled?" he said. "Don't you remember +me? I'm Jack Morrison, Marguerite's cousin. I met you twice at Newport +while you were painting her portrait." + +"Marguerite Morrison. 'M. M.,' the grateful model who gave him the +refrigerator basket!" thought I. And Sir S. proceeded to give the cousin +a refrigerator glance; but it didn't discourage him. He went on as +cordially as ever. "My three chums want to be presented: Dick Farquhar, +Charlie Grant, Sam Menzies. We're all Harvard men, seeing Europe in +general and Scotland in particular, in our vacation. We've every one of +us got Scottish blood in our veins, so we sort of feel we've earned the +right to make your acquaintance. And we've been wondering if you'd +introduce us to your friends, if you don't think it's cheek of us to +ask!" + +Sir S. looked as if he did think it great "cheek"; but if he hesitated, +Mrs. West quickly decided for him. She gave the nice American boy one of +her sweet, soft smiles, and said, "Of course Mr. Somerled will introduce +you all to us; or you may consider yourselves introduced, and save him +the trouble. My name is Aline West, and this is my brother, Basil +Norman." + +She went through this little ceremony in a charming way, yet as if she +expected the young men to be delighted; and I too thought they would +burst into exclamations of joy at meeting celebrities. But not a word +did any of the four say about the books, or their great luck in meeting +the authors. Perhaps they were too shy, though they didn't seem shy in +other ways. They just mumbled in a kind of chorus. "Very pleased to know +you both" (which Mr. Norman told me afterward is an American formula, on +being introduced); and when they'd bowed to the brother and sister and +Mrs. James (though she hadn't been mentioned) all four grouped round me. +This was natural, I suppose, because we were more or less of an age. + +"Is this your daughter, Mrs. West?" asked Jack Morrison. "And may we +children talk to her?" + +For a minute that pretty, sweet-faced woman looked exactly like a cat. +She did, really. It almost gave me a shock! I thought, "She must have +_been_ a cat in another state of existence, and hasn't quite got over +it." Not that cats aren't nice in their way; but when ladies in +fascinating frocks, with hair beautifully dressed, suddenly develop a +striking family likeness to Persian pussies robbed of milk, it does have +a quaint effect on the nerves. + +"Miss MacDonald is _not_ my daughter," said Mrs. West, laughing wildly. +"I'm not _quite_ old enough yet to have a daughter of her age, and she's +not such a child as she looks. But _do_ talk to her, by all means. I'm +sure she'll be very pleased." + +"Then your name _is_ MacDonald?" Jack Morrison exclaimed. "We were +saying at dinner how much you look like Mrs. Bal MacDonald, the +beautiful actress. Is she any relation?" + +"Yes, she is," I answered. And I would have gone on to tell him and his +friends that she was my mother, but I saw Sir S. and Mrs. West and Basil +looking as if they wanted to get away, so I dared not go into +particulars. + +"Do tell us about it," said all the American boys together, when I +paused to take breath and think. I should have loved to stop and talk +about mother, but magnetic thrills of disapproval from my guardians +crackled through me. "If you're in Edinburgh next week maybe you'll find +out," I said consolingly. "But now I must go." + +I bowed nicely, and they bowed still more nicely, trying to look +wistful, as if they didn't want me to hurry away. + +We went to a private sitting-room Sir S. had taken, so I suppose he had +invited Basil and Mrs. West; and I thought they would speak of the +American boys, but nobody even referred to their existence. This made me +feel somehow as if I were being snubbed. I don't know why, for nobody +was unkind. + +Afterward, when Mrs. James and I went to our adjoining bedrooms, I asked +her if I had done anything I ought not to have done. + +"No, my dear child," said she, smoothing my hair, which I'd begun to +unplait. "Nothing except----" and she hesitated. + +"Except what? Tell me the worst." + +"There isn't any worst. You did nothing that Mrs. West and I wouldn't +like to do, if we could. I won't go into particulars, if you don't mind, +because it wouldn't be good for you if I did, and might make you +self-conscious--a great misfortune that would spoil what some of us like +best in you. But you needn't worry." + +"Mrs. West looked as if she longed to scratch my eyes out. She needn't +have been so _very_ vexed at my being taken for her daughter. I'm not a +scarecrow, or a village idiot." + +Mrs. James laughed, a well-trained little laugh she has, which seems +taught to go on so far and no farther--like the tune I once heard a +bullfinch sing in a shop. + +"My dear, you're too young and unworldly to understand these things," +she said. "A pretty woman, a celebrity like Mrs. West, isn't pleased +when she expects all the attention of young gentlemen for herself, to +find that she goes for nothing, and all they want is to talk to some one +else. And then, at her age, to be taken for a grown-up girl's mother! I +couldn't help being sorry for her myself. I know what it is to want to +keep young." + +"But you're thinking of Doctor James," said I. "And she's a _widow_. +Besides, she's always calling me a child, and telling me to play dolls." + +"Well, that isn't to say that she wants all the men there are to play +dolls with you," chuckled Mrs. James. + +"These were boys, compared to her. She must be _thirty_." + +"Maybe she's more, if the truth were known. But why should it be known? +Even when we're thirty and--er--a little over--we like to be admired by +boys as well as others. It makes us feel we haven't got _beyond_ things. +Still, she needn't grudge you those lads. She's got the great Somerled." + +"Yes, I suppose she has," I admitted grudgingly. + +I went to bed feeling as if elephants had walked over me for years. + + * * * * * + +Next morning Sir S. seemed to take it for granted that Basil would look +after Mrs. James and me. He certainly put on rather a "kind uncle" air +with me, but the more he did so, the less and less I felt as if he were +my uncle, and the more and more I wanted to have him for my knight--mine +all alone, without so much as a link of his chain armour for any one +else. + +It is strange, as I've thought often before already, how one can get to +feel in such a way about a person one has known only a few days. But you +see, _I've known Sir S. in a motor-car_. I do believe that makes a +difference. Motor-cars vibrate, and you vibrate in them faster than you +do when not in motor-cars; so your feelings travel much faster than they +would in any other way. _That_ must be the scientific explanation of +what I feel for Sir S. + +Here we were in Ayr, whither we'd come to think about Burns and nobody +else (unless, perhaps, Wallace) and this was to be the beginning of a +special little tour, following all along the line of Burns's pathway in +life, from his birth in the town of Ayr, to his death in the town of +Dumfries. We'd hurried through Dumfries almost with our eyes shut, on +purpose not to see where he died, before he was born, so to speak; and I +had thought all this inspiration on the part of Sir S. I fancied that he +had planned it partly for my sake, because of my being just out of the +glass retort. But now he abandoned me to another; and seeing him +entirely absorbed in Mrs. West kept me from dwelling on Burns as much as +I ought. If you are to concentrate your mind on historical characters or +poets, you must clear your brain out to make room for them, whereas mine +was stuffed full of fancies about myself and other people, none of whom +are historical at all yet--except, perhaps, the great Somerled. + +Neither could Basil think exclusively of Burns, as we walked together +through the pleasant town of Ayr, after our early breakfast. He was +absent-minded once or twice, and when I said, "A penny for your +thoughts!" he answered that they were of the book he would like to write +but couldn't. + +"The men I want to write about are boiling with primitive passions," +said he, laughing, "and that won't do for a 'motor-novel.' Not that +people who travel in motor-cars aren't mostly boiling with primitive +passions for one cause or another, every minute. But the critics won't +have it. According to them, characters can experience grand emotions +only when they are keeping still, not when they're being hurled about +the country. The proper place for primitive emotions is in small fishing +villages, or, better still, on Devonshire moors, or, best of all, in the +illimitable desert. So you see the men I have in my mind wouldn't go +down with the critics, because unfortunately they happen to be in a +motor-car." + +Talking of men in motor-cars, at that moment an enormous red car, going +very fast, changed its mind suddenly, stopped short in twice its own +length, and out jumped four men. They were the Americans of last night, +and by this time I had mixed up their names (except Jack Morrison's, +because he was so good-looking, with square blue eyes), but they +labelled themselves over again very neatly for me. The freckled one was +Dick Farquhar; the one with a moustache like the shadow of a coming +event, Charlie Grant; the one with the scar on his forehead, Sam +Menzies; but they had funny nicknames for each other. Afterward Basil +said they made him feel as if his name ought to be Methuselah. + +The boys had been going to Burns's birthplace in their motor-car, but +they asked if they might walk round the town with us, and take to their +auto later. I looked appealingly at Basil, for they were such fun, so he +said, "Yes, of course"; and they were very polite, and called him "sir," +as they had Mr. Somerled the night before. But each time they used the +word, Basil looked as if he were swallowing bad medicine, and yet as +though he were inclined to laugh. Presently, however, he went ahead with +Mrs. James, following his sister and Sir S., and left me to the four +boys. We laughed at everything. I'm afraid it wasn't at all the spirit +to go hero-worshipping; and none of them knew anything about "The Twa +Brigs" of Burns's poem. I should have liked to call Basil and ask him, +but they said they should feel it would be money in their pockets never +to have been born if I "shunted" them like that, so we laughed a great +deal more and went on wallowing in ignorance. They seemed to take it for +granted that I would rather be with them than with the others, and they +paid me all sorts of funny compliments. They vowed that they had +resolved to change their whole trip because of me, and wherever I was +going they would go too; so, just for fun, I would tell them nothing +except that it was to be Edinburgh on Monday. Cross-question as they +might, I would say no more than that they must find out my hotel, and +how I was related to "Mrs. Bal" (as they all called her) for themselves, +if they were to find out at all. + +They knew little more about Wallace than Burns. When we stopped in front +of the monument in the High Street, coming back from the Auld Brig, Jack +Morrison began grandly with "Scots wha hae wi' Wallace bled," but he +could get no farther, and stopped to ask helplessly, "Where _did_ he +bleed, anyhow? Was it here, and if not, why did they put up the +monument?" + +Even I knew that Wallace was born in Ayr; and when I impudently inquired +what they came to Europe to see, if they cared more about football than +history, they all answered that they came to see pretty girls. "And, by +Jove, we're doing it!" added Charlie Grant. + +"Can't you find pretty girls at home?" I sneered. + +"We have found 'em. We're looking for new types now," said Jack. "So's +the great Somerled, isn't he? He told my Cousin Marguerite that he was +going a long journey in search of a model with the right shade of hair, +which was hard on her, poor girl, as she's spent a pot o' money on hers. +But Somerled's a sardonic sort of chap, don't you think? They say his +money's spoilt him. He hardly ever paints nowadays. Too busy grubbing +for millions. I've heard that you have to go on your knees to get him to +do a portrait--and if he graciously consents, you can't tell but he'll +bring out all that's most evil in your soul on to your face, like a +rash. You never know what'll happen with him--except his fee. Nothing +less than ten thousand dollars, if you get off cheap." + +"I don't think he's that kind of a man at _all_," said I, "Why, just to +prove to you that he isn't, he's offered to paint me for nothing!" + +They all roared at this, and wouldn't explain why. I didn't like them +much, for five minutes; but after that I couldn't help forgiving them +again. + +We took the Gray Dragon for Alloway and for Burns's birthplace, but the +boys jumped into their car and kept close behind us. Hardly had we got +into the tiny thatched house--once a mere "clay biggin"--where Burns was +born, than the four appeared on the scene. Mrs. West was scarcely civil +to them at first, until Basil whispered (only in fun, of course, but she +took it seriously, as she often does when people think they're being +humorous), "If you're nasty to those boys, it will be a bad +advertisement. They won't read your books or tell their friends they're +the best books going!" She was quite kind and elderly-sisterly to them +after that. But nice boys as they are, it did grate on me having them +make jokes every minute, even about that wonderful, pathetic little room +with the railed-off furniture and curtained wall-bed. + +Luckily I had been reading about the cottage and everything else +concerning the Burns family while I dressed. I knew already how Burns's +father built the tiny house with his own hands; how the night that +Robert was born, a fearful storm came up which threatened to sweep away +the whole biggin; and how the poor young mother had to be hustled off to +a neighbour's cottage. How little the poor couple guessed that the baby +born "in thunder, lightning and in rain" would make of the clay biggin a +world's shrine, to be bought by the nation for four thousand pounds. +Maybe it cost five pounds to build. How I did want to believe that from +one of the bowls kept on a shelf in that room of the wall-bed Burns had +eaten his porridge as a child. Of course that would be almost too good +to be true; but he did eat his porridge in that room, anyhow--and often +wanted more than he could get. What brains of genius have been nourished +on porridge and oaten cake in this country of ours! I felt more than +ever proud of my Scottish blood as I stood in that low-ceilinged +cottage; and I wondered if Sir S. had the same glorious thrill. I didn't +know if he had ever before come to Ayr; but I did know that his first +home on our own island of Dhrum must have been much like this--just a +clay biggin with a but and a ben. He, too, was born a genius. He, like +Burns, knew grinding poverty. He, too, was taken up by great ones and +dropped again, for he has told me so. + +Once Sir S. was near me for a minute--without his Aline--and I did want +some word to prove that I was still his princess, he my knight. But all +I got from him on the subject was: "Well, do you think the knights +'notice' that you're a princess?" + +I stared, bewildered. Then I remembered our conversation in the car, +before Mrs. West came and annexed the front seat. Of course I knew he +meant the American boys. + +"They notice that I'm like my mother," said I. + +"Oh, is that all?" And he laughed. Then Mrs. West flitted over to ask if +we oughtn't to go to the museum. + +It is a pathetic little museum, with intimate relics and countless +pictures of Burns, each one making him look entirely different from all +the others. By and by we went on to the monument, the strange classic +temple that had loomed out of the twilight as we came to Ayr. The road +from town to the monument was the way of Tam o' Shanter's wild ride, or +almost the same; only there's a tram-line now to spoil the romance, if +one chooses to let it be spoiled. As for me, I'd scorn to let romance be +broken by an object so dull as a tram-car. When things are ugly I simply +make them transparent for my eyes, and see through them as if they +didn't exist. + +I had to do a good deal of this juggling in the neighbourhood of the +monument; for the booths bristling with Burns souvenirs, and the tea +gardens where crowds drink to Burns's memory in ginger pop and fizzy +lemonade, would be rather dreadful if they were not funny. I'm sure, +though, Burns's sense of humour would make him laugh a mellow, ringing +laugh: if he could see those thousands of bottles of temperance drinks +being emptied in his honour. + +It was good to escape from the gay, meretricious gardens to the +graveyard of Alloway Auld Kirk, where Tam o' Shanter's witches danced, +and where Burns's father lies buried. There was peace, too, where the +Brig o' Doon arched its camel-back over a clear brown, rippling stream. +There, through the singing of the water, through the playing of an old +blind fiddler scraping the tune of "Annie Laurie," I could hear the true +Burns song, the music of his thoughts sweetly ringing on, to keep the +world young, as the bright water leaps on forever to give its jewels to +the sea. + +We went back from Alloway to Ayr, and lunched early in our own hotel. +The boys lunched early too, and when we started out on the next stage of +our Burns pilgrimage, we saw their red car panting in front of the +hotel. I had heard no talk of new plans for Basil and Mrs. West, but +they must have talked things over with each other or Sir S., for +Blunderbore was vibrating healthily between the Gray Dragon and the Red +Prince. I could have jumped for joy when I saw Blunderbore, and kissed +him on his bonnet. Already in imagination I was in my old place on the +front seat of our car, beside my knight; but the first words of Sir S. +snatched me off again and left me dangling in mid-air. + +"Sure your motor's all right again?" he inquired of Basil. + +I held my breath for the answer. + +"Yes, thanks, quite all right." + +"You know"--and Sir S. turned to Mrs. West--"we're delighted to keep you +as our guests." + +"You _are_ good," she answered, "but--we mustn't wear out our welcome." + +"Don't be afraid of that." (I did so wish I could have been sure whether +his tone was eager or only cordial! Probably Mrs. West was wishing the +same.) + +"Thanks a thousand times, but we'll sample our own car for a while. We +shall meet and exchange impressions. And perhaps--after Edinburgh----" + +She broke off, leaving the rest to our imagination. Mine was so lively +that it gave my heart a pinch. I could see what she meant as clearly as +if she had held a photograph before my eyes: me, with mother, waving +good-byes from a hotel door; she and her brother transferred permanently +to the Gray Dragon, the Row forgotten; Blunderbore's nose turned meekly +back toward Carlisle; Mrs. James out of the picture. Just for an instant +I could have cried. Then I reminded myself for the twentieth time that +in a few days _nothing_ can matter, because I shall have my own dear, +beautiful mother, who will make up to me for everybody and everything +else. + +I don't know how I should have borne it if Mrs. James had wanted to sit +in front, but the angel didn't. And presently there was I in my old +place, feeling as if weeks instead of hours had elapsed (yes "elapsed" +is the most distance-expressing word) since I last sat shoulder to +shoulder with Sir S. + +That feeling of long-ago-ness made me a little shy, and to save my life +I couldn't think of a word to say except about the weather; so I said +nothing at all, and he said the same. By and by I began to count. When I +had got up to five hundred, and still he hadn't spoken, I knew I should +certainly burst if nothing happened before a thousand. + +"Well?" he murmured at last in an isolated way. + +"Five hundred and eighty-six," I counted aloud inadvertently. + +"Eh?" said he. + +"I was just seeing how many I should have to count before you spoke." + +"H'm! I'm afraid you do find me a dull companion after all your latest +acquisitions. But what can I do? In a way I'm your guardian temporarily. +I can't let you run about the country alone with hordes of young men. I +may seem selfish; but I have done my best for you since other and +younger knights came upon the field." + +"That _is_ hypocritical!" I flung at him. "You shed me on others because +you like the society of a grown-up woman better than mine; and then you +pretend you're doing it for my sake. I _like_ that!" + +"I thought you would like it. That's why I did it." + +"Not because you wanted to talk to Mrs. West?" + +"Oh, of course I like talking to her. Don't you like talking to her +brother, and all that drove of boys?" + +"Why--yes, I like talking to them well enough, but----" + +"But what?" + +"You ought to _know_, without telling." + +"I don't know. Are we playing at cross purposes?" + +"How can I tell, if you can't?" + +"How can I, if you _won't_?" + +"Oh, don't let's argue about nothing! Let's be happy--perfectly happy." + +"In other words, if milk has been spilt, don't water it with salt tears, +but leave it to collect cream." + +"Yes. Why doesn't everybody treat spilt milk like that?" + +"It doesn't occur to poor worried humanity. It wouldn't occur to me in +other society--Princess." + +"Thank you, Sir Knight." I couldn't resist nestling my shoulder closer +to his in joy and gratitude: and then an odd thing happened. A tiny +shock of electricity seemed to flash through his shoulder to mine. I +never felt anything like it before. It made my heart stop and afterward +beat fast. I had to talk of something irrelevant in a hurry, so I +grabbed at Burns: and indeed we ought not even for a minute to have +talked of any other subject on this road, which we were exploring only +because of Burns. Not that the high road between Kilmarnock and Dumfries +wouldn't be worth seeing if Burns had never set foot on it, and if no +other great ones had passed that way. It would be worth travelling for +itself alone, for every mile has its own special beauty. And the more I +think of Scotland the more I tell myself she is like a wise connoisseur +(I hope that's the word!) who goes ahead of others to a sale of splendid +pictures, and secures the finest for herself at a bargain. Several of +the prettiest pictures hang on the blue-and-gold walls of the Burns +country. + +We came suddenly into view of Arran when the car had spun us along an up +and down road to Ochiltree and Cumnock. It was I who, looking back, +first caught sight of the jagged pinnacles boldly painted in purple on a +far, pale sky. I didn't know what they were, but Sir S. put on the +brakes quickly, and let us stop to look. He remembered the cliffs, and +gazed at them with a light in his eyes which would have told me, if I +hadn't known before, that he had been homesick for Scotland all these +rich, successful years, whether consciously or not. + +By and by we came to the Nith, which afterward we did not leave; and +through a green glen wound the "sweet Afton" Burns wrote of and loved +almost as dearly as he loved its elder brother. Here in this valley, +companioned with his own starry thoughts, he walked and rode, happy in +his fellowship with Nature, even though poverty made him an exciseman at +fifty pounds a year. He had to put down smuggling with one hand and +write his glorious poetry with the other, as Mrs. James expressed it. At +New Cumnock he would spend a night sometimes on his way to Ellisland, +his "farm that would not pay," near Dumfries. + +Always following in the track of Burns, the Gray Dragon dashed up and +down short, steep, switchbacked hills (which must have tried any steed +of ancient days except a witch's broomstick) and whisked us into +Sanquhar, the "sean cathair" or "old fortress" of earliest Gaelic times, +now snappily called "Sanker." There Queen Mary rested, going to +Dundrennan after the terrible battle of Langside; there Prince Charlie +marched; and there was a monument of granite to the Covenanters Cameron +and Renwick. Burns must have dreamed of Queen Mary when duty brought him +to Sanquhar; and Renwick would have been a person to appeal to him, +because of his youth and good looks, and because the "pretty lad" was +the last martyr to the Covenant. But perhaps he thought most of all of +that Admirable Crichton who was born at Sanquhar, not in the castle of +his wild and brilliant family, but at Eliock House. Burns would maybe +have liked him not so much for taking his degree at St. Andrews when he +was twelve, or for knowing ten languages and many sciences, as for +wandering adventurously over the world, winning tilting matches at the +Louvre, and the love of ladies at Padua and Venice. + +Mrs. James had bought a book with quotations from a diary of Burns, and +she read out to us while the car stopped at Sanquhar what he had written +about one specimen day: + +"Left Thornhill at five in the morning. Rode four miles to Enterkinfoot +and made a call: thence three miles to Slunkerford with another call: +thence six miles to Sanquhar, where there were twenty official visits to +be made: thence two miles to Whitehall, with two more calls: and a +return journey to Sanquhar, finishing the day's work at seven in the +evening." + +Poor poet. But he had always his glowing fancies to keep his heart warm. +We felt almost guilty because we had no horrid calls to make, as he had; +nothing to do but enjoy the scene made magical by his love of it: the +valley with its near green hills and distant peaks of Galloway and +Lowther; the river girdling wooded reaches with a belt of silver, or +burrowing through deep rocky channels, purple as heather petrified. It +was all as different from yesterday's Crockettland as if we had crossed +the ocean from one to the other. + +At Carronbridge we saw the woods of Drumlanrig on our right hand; and +Sir S. told me about the Duke of Queensberry who spent all his money in +building the splendid castle, slept in it one night, saw the bills for +it, cursed himself and it, and went away with nothing left but a broken +heart. "Deil pyk out the een of him who sees this," he wrote on the back +of the biggest bill. + +There's a Burns museum at lime-tree-shaded Thornhill, but I refused to +go in and stare at an original cast of his skull. I do think a man, +especially a great genius, ought to be allowed the privacy of his own +skull! + +Closeburn is the place where the Kirkpatricks, the Empress Eugénie's +family, used to live before they went to Spain. At Auldgirth we went +over a bridge built by Carlyle's father. At Mauchline Burns grew from a +boy into a man and fell in love. At Ellisland, Burns lived for a long +time with his handsome wife, Jean Armour. At Dalswinton the first +steamboat made its first trip, and Burns was on it. All round us now was +Scott's "Red-gauntlet" country; and the bridge crossing the Nith at +Dumfries was built by Devorgilla. There was something to see and think +of every minute; and in fifty-nine miles we had followed Burns's whole +life-story on its slow way from Ayr to Dumfries. Only--we couldn't +follow his thoughts to the stars! + +We had stopped many times; still it wasn't yet five o'clock, and we had +time to see all that's sacred to Burns at Dumfries, the "Fair Queen of +the South," as Sir S. called it, quoting I don't know what. + +First we went to the house in Bank Street where Burns came when he left +Ellisland, and had seventy pounds a year to live on instead of fifty--a +sad and grim little house, where in the wee closet that was his study we +could hear the music of the Nith, but catch no sparkle of its water. He +had hardly air enough to fan the fire of genius, yet it went on turning +brightly because nothing could put it out. If it was a sad house to live +in, it must have been even sadder to die in. He'd have liked his last +look to be on sky and meadow, or he would not have said in his "Song of +Death": + + "Farewell, thou fair day, thou green earth and ye skies, + Now gay with the broad setting sun. + Farewell, loves and friendships, ye dear tender ties! + Our race of existence is run." + +I found those words in the Poems bound in tartan which Basil had bought +for me in a fascinating bookshop at Ayr and I read them in the room +where the poet died. Afterward I was glad to see in St. Michael's +churchyard a great many of the "loves and friendships" resting near him +in his long sleep. Their presence consoled me for the mausoleum which +nobody can admire nowadays, or think worthy of him. Almost, I would +rather have had him lie under one of those strange, enormous tombstones +like stone cupboards or tables which clutter the graveyard. + +While we were trying to find the burial-place of Napoleon's doctor, and +some martyrs and cholera victims Mrs. James was interested in, Mrs. West +and Basil appeared, and then the Americans. Sir S. looked horribly +bored, when he saw the four tall, brown, nice-looking boys, and asked me +quite fiercely if I'd given them permission to follow us every step of +the way. I snapped back, "No, of course not!" And immediately he said, +"Forgive me. If you had, after all where would be the harm?" + +There was no time for more. We had to say, "How do you do?" to Basil and +Aline; and then the boys surged round us, in their high spirits rather +like big Newfoundland puppies sacrilegiously racing each other among the +graves. They had been reading up history on purpose to please me, they +announced, and were ready to bet five pounds against a glove that they +knew more than I did. Was I aware that Dumfries meant "fort in the thorn +bushes?" Had I learned that the British Christian chief, who was the +real King Arthur, fought with pagan Saxons all along the Nith. Did I +know it was in Grayfriars, or the Minories Church, that Bruce killed the +Red Comyn, Devorgilla's grandson? + +They won the glove; and then there was a scene when they took a penknife +and cut it up in four pieces, one for each man. I tried to keep them +from being so foolish, but might as well have tried to stop the wind +from blowing; and it was no wonder that Mrs. West turned her back on us +rather than see those dreadful boys ostentatiously stowing away the bits +of gray kid in what Jack Morrison called their "heart-pockets." + +I was afraid Sir S. might think it was my fault, their coming to stay at +the pretty hotel he'd chosen for us because it overlooked the river; but +it wasn't a bit. It was just as much a coincidence as Mrs. West and +Basil finding three Canadian friends already there--perhaps even _more_ +of a coincidence; for it didn't seem to me that Mrs. West was really +astonished at finding these people at a Dumfries hotel, or they at +finding her and Basil. I was there when they met in the hall: two rather +handsome dark men, brothers, named Vanneck, and the fair, thin little +wife of the younger one. All they said at first was, "Well, this _is_ +nice! How do you do?" And it struck me afterward, when I thought it +over, that if it had been a great surprise, they would have mentioned +it. I wondered if they hadn't corresponded and arranged it somehow, for +they appeared to know each other very well, and to be the best of +friends, especially the elder Mr. Vanneck and Mrs. West, who called each +other "Aline" and "George." After dinner it turned out that she had been +inviting the Vannecks to go on to Melrose and Edinburgh in Old +Blunderbore, without consulting the chauffeur-owner of the car. He +thought the load, with extra luggage, too heavy for Blunderbore's +powers; consequently Mrs. West threw herself on the mercy of Sir S. She +asked if the Gray Dragon could take Basil, and the Gray Dragon's master +quietly said yes. + +After Mrs. West had walked with Sir S. in the churchyard of St. +Michael's, he seemed very thoughtful and a little gloomy, even stiff in +his manner with me. At first I felt it must be that she had said +something to change him toward me, but again I told myself that that was +a silly and far-fetched suspicion. It was more likely that he +disapproved of my "larking" with the American boys and giving them a +glove to divide in bits. Afterward, too, when they turned up at our +hotel, he might easily have thought I'd encouraged them to follow us +again. + +I hoped for a chance to put that idea out of his mind, but next morning, +starting for Melrose, Vedder had the place next Sir S., and Basil, Mrs. +James, and I were all three together behind. + +We started before Aline West and her friends the Vannecks (her special +one is a widower, very rich, who has proposed several times, she told +Mrs. James); but the four boys waited for us to get off again, so they +might know where we were going; and I began to be almost angry, because +of the wrong impression their nonsense was making on Sir S. It had been +so good to get him back yesterday that it was worse than ever so see him +slipping quietly away once more. + +If it hadn't been for these worries, it would have been a wonderful day. + +From Dumfries we ran up and down nice scallopy hills, crossing the Annan +at a place named Beattock, for Moffat, where there are sulphur wells a +girl discovered two hundred years ago, and made the fortune of the town. +Then there was a lovely road along Moffat Water, with a succession of +wild green dells and hillsides cleft with fern-choked ravines. Still we +were in Burns's country, for by Craigie Burn lived Jean Lorimer, to whom +he wrote love-songs; and a little farther on was the scene where "Willie +brewed a peck o' maut." The next bit of beauty was associated with the +Ettrick Shepherd (I can't bear to think of his name being Hogg), for he +wrote a Covenanter story, "Brownie of Bodesbeck," about a mountain we +could see hovering in the distance. + +All Moffatdale looked a haunt for fairies, so no wonder it is cram full +of legends; and if I had been sitting with Sir S. I should have begged +him to stop and let us scramble up a rocky path to the haunt of a pale +spirit disguised as a waterfall. The Gray Mare's Tail is a disguising +name, too, for there is nothing gray about it, but all white as +streaming moonlight; and Sir S. and I together might have stood a good +chance of finding the rainbow key, sparkling on some cushion of +irridescent spray. We missed the chance, however; and who knows if it +will ever come again? + +Basil had bought a volume of Scott's poems for me, to match the Burns's +and he found in "Marmion"--where he knew it existed--a verse about the +torrent: + + Issuing forth one foamy wave, + And wheeling round the Giant's Grave, + White as a snowy charger's tail + Drives down the pass of Moffatdale. + +So already we were coming into Scott's country. I remember Birkhill, +because it's the watershed between the Moffat and the Yarrow, and the +word "watershed" goes through my mind with a musical white rush, like a +cataract. It suggests beautiful faraway things. Besides, there's another +reason for remembering. Close by, at Dobbs Linn, the Covenanters used to +hide in the time of the great persecution. + +We swept through some bare, bleak country before coming to the Yarrow, +but the rover brought us back to gentle, cultivated land, with thoughts +of her favourite Wordsworth for Mrs. James; and soon we came to a very +famous place, Tibbie Shiels's Inn. I had never heard of it, but that +doesn't take from its fame! Basil and Mrs. James could both tell me how +Scott, and Christopher North, and De Quincey, and a long list of other +great men, used to meet at the house kept by Mrs. Richardson, "Tibbie," +who outlived all the noble company, and was buried at last in the same +churchyard with the Ettrick Shepherd. + +By and by our road dropped down and down to the shores of lonely St. +Mary's Loch (Scott wrote of it in "Marmion"), and at the end of the +still lake to Dryhope Tower, where brave Mary Scott, his ancestress, +"The Flower of Yarrow," had her birthplace. + +So we went on to Selkirk on its hill overlooking Ettrick Water, and +stopped just long enough to buy some of the celebrated "bannocks" for +our picnic luncheon later on, and to have a glance at the statues of Sir +Walter Scott and Mungo Park, the African traveller. Basil pretended to +be shocked because I had never heard of him! "And you had never heard of +Aline and me till you met us," he sighed, shaking his head. "I suppose +you never heard of the sutors of Selkirk, either? The burly sutors who +'firmly stood' at Flodden when other 'pow'rful clans gave way'? Well, +I'm glad, anyhow, that we aren't the _only_ people you'd never heard +of!" + +Basil seemed very happy, and kind, and _understanding_, somehow, as if +he saw that something was not quite right with me, and he wanted to +console me as well as he could. + +Sir S. had managed very clearly about not letting us stop to look at the +town of Burns's death until we'd seen the place of his birth and traced +out the path of his life-story; but he couldn't contrive the same kind +of trip for Sir Walter Scott's country without going over the whole road +twice. Besides, he wanted us to see Melrose by moonlight, and said it +would be "incomparably better than Sweetheart Abbey." But I knew it +wouldn't be better for me, and I didn't quite forgive him for thinking +it possible, now that we had got so mixed up with irrelevant people. + +We had to go to Jedburgh first, the place farthest south; then to +Dryburgh; then flashing through Melrose to Abbotsford, where Scott died +as well as lived; and then back to Melrose for the night. That was his +plan; and I still supposed that we were to go on somewhere else next +day--Sunday--not arriving in Edinburgh till Monday. But it seems that +Sir S. had made up his mind to a different programme, though he said +nothing about it then. + +Things happened to the boys' car on the way to Jedburgh, though the road +was good, and only undulating. Basil said that, as a matter of fact, he +had "ill-wished" them and their auto, and as "thoughts are things," he +had created the nail on which their tire came to grief. "Somerled and I +want to be the only ones," he added mysteriously. "We'll have no +interlopers." Which would have made me think him rather a frivolous +person, after all, if he hadn't been so well up in the lore of the road, +and known so many interesting things about Jedburgh, the county town of +Roxburghshire. + +"If we curse a mere nail on a white velvet road-surface nowadays," said +he, "think what the roads must have been like when Jedburgh had a royal +castle, and kings and queens were travelling about from one of their +houses to another! Think what Queen Mary must have had to endure, even +bringing things down to modern times, comparatively. She stayed in +Jedburgh town, in an old house in Queen Street--came for assizes, I +think. Then, while she was there, bored to death, she heard that +Bothwell was 'sick of a wound' at Hermitage Castle, over twenty miles +distant. In an hour she was on her palfrey and off to see him, falling +into a morass on the way. But she got back again that night, rather than +her good subjects should say she neglected their affairs. She fell ill +with fever after her exertions. What wouldn't she have given for a +motor-car? But how she would have been bumped and bruised if she'd had +one, though the roads were grand then compared to the state they'd +fallen into after the Romans marched out of Scotland. Imagine the early +kings and queens with their processions passing where we pass now; and +armies returning from battle with their prisoners; and bands of pilgrims +going to some sacred shrine; and robber hordes moving at night; and +wild-beast shows on the way from one fair to another. Can't you see the +panorama?" + +I could, easily, picture after picture. But when you come to think of +it, he'd mentioned nothing as curious as motors, which we take quietly +for granted, just as our forefathers took the wild beasts and the +robbers. + +We had a glimpse of Burns's "Eden scenes on crystal Jed," though only +enough to be aggravating, for Basil said there were prehistoric caves, +and scenery enough to make a journey to Scotland worth while, if one +came for nothing else. But people in motor-cars never seem to turn aside +for anything. They go toward their destination like creatures possessed. +So, although Jedburgh is supposed to be the most historic town of the +Lowlands, we hardly looked at it in our haste to see the Abbey, and to +rush on to other Abbeys--a dayful of Abbeys! Not that Jedburgh put +itself out to attract us. It had rather a grim air as a town, as if it +hadn't quite forgotten the fierce slogan of the Jedburgh men, who +shouted "Jethart's here!" as they wielded the terrible Jethart axes +invented by themselves. And one isn't allowed to go inside Queen Mary's +house to see the tapestry her ladies worked. + +I wished to think no abbey so beautiful as Sweetheart Abbey, which was +my first, and seen on the first night of the heather moon; but I had to +tell myself that Jedburgh was lovelier, in its garden on the river-bank. +Dreaming of its own reflection, its hollow, window-eyes could see, deep +down under a glass, all its own history and legends preserved forever as +in a crystal casket; the story of saintly King David who built it, and +of the French friars who left their own Abbey at Beauvais to people it; +better still, of the wedding with the spectre guest--the marriage of +little French Jolette to Alexander, the last of the Celtic kings. +Perhaps, too, the window-eyes peering into the crystal could see the +figure of Sir Walter Scott, seeking and finding inspiration in the +Abbey's old tales. + +Basil, who told me the stories, read in a book that "Jedburgh is +completer than Kelso or Dryburgh, and simpler and more harmonious than +Melrose," so when the four boys appeared at last in Dryburgh Abbey, +having calmly missed out Jedburgh and Kelso to save time, I used the +criticism as if it were original, with great effect; for by that time +_we_ had made a side dash to see lovely Kelso, where Sir Walter went to +the Grammar School, and met Ballantyne, who long afterward published his +novels and brought about his bankruptcy. I heard also, read out from the +same book, that the stone of Dryburgh was taken from the quarry that +built Melrose, and that the name Dryburgh meant "Druid." Even the boys, +I think, could hardly help feeling the mysterious, haunting charm of the +place, which was as strange and secret as if the dark yew trees and +Lebanon cedars guarding the ruins were enchanted Druid priests. There +was a Druid urn, too, which looked as if it knew all the secrets of the +ages, and had held sacrificial blood. + +I could imagine Sir Walter Scott coming to Dryburgh again and again, and +loving the hidden spot so well that he wanted to sleep his last sleep +there. Such a peaceful sleep it must be with the Tweed singing out of +sight, and yews old as legend to play lullabies upon their own +harp-strings when the wind touches their dark, rustling sleeves. + +The song of the Tweed at Abbotsford was the song of Inspiration, +changing to the song of Fulfilment in the master's passing hour. Now, at +Dryburgh, the river veils itself like a mourner, and its song is the +Sleep Music which has in it the secret of death and of life beyond. I +stood for a minute alone in front of the tomb where Sir Walter's body +lies with those he loved best, in the place he loved best, and +transparent green shadows like the spirits of shadow hid me from the +sunlight. While I shut my eyes, I could understand the message of the +song. And I knew that if my knight had been with me it would have come +to him in the same way, because we are both of the land where the old, +old secrets of wind and waves and rock are in the blood of the people, +and sung by their bards. It is perhaps the mysterious kinship of far-off +ancestry which draws me to him, and tells me that we two belong +together--that others stand outside as strangers. + +Just then I felt that it would have been worth the bother of being born +only for the sake of that minute, if I had no other minutes worth +living; and it seemed that some knowledge was coming back to me which +souls forget as bodies grow up to manhood or womanhood. But suddenly +Basil's voice broke the Music. "You look as if you were conjuring up the +White Lady of Avenel, who will come to any one who knows how to call +her, here at Dryburgh," he said. And I opened my eyes as if he had +jerked me back by the arm from the days of the Druids to the era of +motor-cars. And so he had--by the ear, not the arm. If Sir S. had spoken +to me then it would have been different. I begin to think he is going to +be the only Real Man in my world. But if I find that out, and he doesn't +think me the only Real Girl, what will become of me? + +After we had done what Mrs. West, in her pretty little tinkling voice, +called "exhausting Dryburgh" (as if one could!) we went to Melrose, only +four miles away, to leave our luggage at a nice hotel and take rooms for +the night, before going on another mile and a half to Abbotsford. I +little thought what a surprise I should have by and by, owing to this +plan of action mapped out by Sir S. + +The next thing that happened to us was seeing the many turreted house +built by the "Wizard of the North," when his wish was to found a great +Border family. He didn't realize then that he was founding a great +school of romance and that all the world would be his family in mind and +heart. + +A book Basil had, said that the house was "ill-placed," but to me that +seemed a dull and unimaginative criticism. Nowadays people may think a +great deal about wide views from their windows; and if I ever build a +house with a fairy wand, that's what I shall choose to have myself. But +perhaps in Sir Walter's day the thing most sought for was a peaceful, +sheltered outlook all to yourself and your family, like a secret garden +of which only you had the key. Just such an outlook the Wizard had from +his windows; and of course what he most wished for was to bring the +singing Tweed into his secret garden, just as you coax a lovely wild +bird, if you can whistle its own notes, under the trees it loves. + +Perhaps if Sir Walter had not been able to look out over his flowers and +hay-scented meadows to the friendly river, inspiration might have failed +him in his troubles. But, you see, he had that secret garden of his +soul; and when he was there it must have walled him into a region of +peace where worries could do no more than knock at the door. + +Wandering over the big house with Mrs. James and Basil (the boys in the +background), I was glad, glad that Sir Walter had owned so many +treasures, and collected so many curiosities; yet I felt an undertone of +sadness even in the library (where the twenty thousand books are, given +back by those decent bodies, his creditors), a sadness like that which +must have pressed on his spirit, thinking of all the money he had paid +for his home, and the beautiful things in it--all the money he would +have to make out of his brain to clear away the debt. "When I do build +my house, I shall have a gallery like this in the library," I said, +thinking Basil was close behind me, as he had been; but instead, there +was Sir S. standing silently by. Basil had gone into the study, or +perhaps into the tiny "Speak a bit," to look at the wall-panelling taken +from Queen Mary's bed at Jedburgh. + +"That's just what I was thinking about my library," Sir S. answered, as +if I had spoken to him. + +"Haven't you got one yet?" I asked. + +"Only an embryo library in a flat in New York--a rather nice flat. But a +flat isn't home. And you know--you ought to know--the house of my heart +is on a faraway island." + +"The island of Dhrum?" + +"Yes. I've just begun to realize that I never have had and never can +have a real home out of the Highlands. Would you think me an +interloper--you and the other grand MacDonalds--if I, the crofter's boy, +should develop an ambition like Sir Walter's--oh, not so worthy or +splendid, because _I'm_ neither worthy nor splendid--if I should wish to +have the great house of the MacDonalds of Dhrum, not let to me for a +term of years as it is now, but bought and paid for as my own?" + +"Can the MacDonalds sell?" + +"Yes, and will, if I'll pay his price. You see, he has no son, only a +daughter; and she, having failed to bring off a match or two----" + +(I didn't let my eyes twinkle, or my face do that weird thing, "break +into a smile"; but Jack Morrison told me that Miss MacDonald had "set +her cap at the great Somerled," and torn it off and stamped on it in +rage because--this is Jack's slang--Sir S. "wasn't taking any.") + +--"Having failed to bring off a match or two, has settled down into +old-maidhood. She's an enthusiastic suffragette, and hates living out of +London. The Mac of D. considers his club his castle, or a good deal +better; and as he's the last of the line--not a male heir, no matter how +distant--he can do as he likes with his ancestral stronghold. You know, +I suppose, your father was born at Dunelin Castle?' + +"Yes," I said. "I wish I'd been born there, instead of at Hillard +House." + +"So do I wish it. If you had been, I should have no hesitation +in--er--in building the gallery round the library wall." + +"You think you really will decide to buy the castle?" I asked +breathlessly. + +"Sometimes I think so. At other times I think, _Qui bono?_ I say to +myself that I shall never have a home, or an incentive for settling +down. But come along and look at Sir Walter's treasures before any one +else appears." + +"Where's Mrs. West?" I asked involuntarily. + +"She's annexed your bodyguard for the moment--do you mind?--appealed to +their innate love of horrors by showing them the picture of Queen Mary's +head, painted an hour after her death by a brother of Margaret Cawood, +her attendant. Suddenly I felt that, if Basil could spare you to me for +ten minutes, I should like to be the one to show you a few things--the +things I loved best when I came from Edinburgh to Abbotsford with a bit +of the first money I ever earned by my brush." + +I turned on him, opening my eyes wide. "Basil spare me!" I echoed +scornfully. "I'm not his princess, even if you don't want me for yours." + +"I do want you. But----" + +"Oh, here he comes!" I whispered, shrill as a cricket. "Take me to see +_your_ things, quickly." + +So we ran away from Basil, and I had one of the happiest hours I have +ever lived through; although the sight of Sir Walter's neat clothes in +the glass case--the thick-soled boots, the broad-brimmed hat that +covered his thoughts, the coat that covered his heart--brought tears to +my eyes. + +Next best, I liked the bit of Queen Mary's dress, the pocket-book worked +by Flora MacDonald, Prince Charlie's "Quaich"--the cup with the glass +bottom to guard the drinker against surprises--the ivory miniatures Sir +Walter and his French bride exchanged, and the Rob Roy relics. Perhaps +it is odd, but they were the very things Sir S. had remembered most +affectionately. Last of all he showed me a toadstone amulet set in +silver, a charm to prevent and ward off the spells of fairies. "If I +could have had a thing like this to carry about with me in my +motor-car," he said, "I should perhaps have been safe. But it's too late +now." + +He smiled at me with that whimsical yet kind smile which is the only +sort he ever gives me since Mrs. West and Basil and the boys came. +Before their day, there was a different look in his eyes. I can't tell +what that difference was, but I liked the old look a thousand times +better than the new, which makes me feel I may as well go into a +convent. Not that I intend to do so! + +Just then Basil came to say that his sister and the Vannecks were going, +as Aline was tired; and would Sir S. tell her what time we were to see +the Abbey. Basil and I were left together--quite as usual, lately. He +made some rather nice poetical remarks about the house at Abbotsford: +how marvellously it expressed the personality and tendency of Sir +Walter's mind; and how it seemed to him that here was the true heart of +Scotland embalmed in spices and laid in a shrine, just as Robert Bruce's +heart lies at Melrose. I hardly listened, though, for I was wondering so +much what Sir S. would have gone on to say about the amulet if Basil had +let us alone a minute longer. But fairy fancies were in the air, in one +form or other. As we walked up the narrow path which would bring us to +the motor, Basil told me a dream he'd had the night before. "I thought," +he said, "that I was a humble reincarnation of Thomas Ecildoune--Thomas +the Rhymer--and that I was walking in the Rhymer's Glen--it isn't far +out of this neighbourhood, you know--when a Vision in a magic motor-car +came sprinting down the steep curve of a rainbow. In front of my feet, +the Vision contrived to stop the car, or in another second it would have +run over me. Out she stepped and announced that she was the Queen of the +Fays, whom I would remember meeting before in my last incarnation, in +the same place. Strange to say, she looked exactly like you--and I must +add, she acted exactly as you do." + +"Why, what was it she did?" I couldn't help wanting to know. + +"She heartlessly vanished, just as I began to hope she might remain and +become my muse. You always vanish--and generally with another man." + +We both laughed, and were laughing still when we came up with Mrs. James +and Mrs. Vanneck, Mrs. West and Sir S., who were ahead of us with the +others. + +It had to be sunset and moonlight together for Melrose Abbey, for the +heather moon was still too young to be allowed by Mother Earth to sit up +late, all alone in the sky. This was not the "pale moonlight" Sir Walter +wrote of, and looked to for inspiration in his "Lay of the Last +Minstrel," but a light of silvered rose which seemed made for love and +joy. I thought, if an alchemist or magician should pour melted gold and +silver together in a rose-coloured glass, and hold it up to the sun, it +would give out a light like this. It might have been an elixir of life, +for it gave back the Abbey's youth, and more than its youthful beauty. +The bullet-shattered stone turned to blocks of pink and golden topaz, +and each carving stood out clear, rimmed with sapphire shadow, as we +wandered round the cruciform Gothic ruin, our feet noiseless on the +faded velvet of the grass. Even in the darkest shadow there lay a ruby +flush, like a glow of fire under a thick film of ash; but inside the +Abbey was a soft, gray gloom, as if evening hid in the ruins waiting its +time to come out. The Trinity window, the Calvary window, the window +with the Crown of Thorns, and the east window in the chancel, which Sir +Walter loved best, were all sketched against the sky in tracery of sepia +and burnt amber, as I heard Sir S. saying to Mrs. West. And though I +shouldn't have known what colours to use, because I'm not an artist, I +could see that the tall stone shafts were like slender-trunked trees +crowned with high clusters of branches, as in pictures of desert palms. +I wondered if the men who carved the stone had travelled in the East and +had seen palm trees rising from pale sand, black against a paler sky. +And I wondered, too, if queer knots and fantastic holes in the gray +trunks of oak had not put into men's minds the first idea of gargoyles. + +Sir S. and Basil, who have been almost everywhere, agreed that they had +seldom seen such marvellous detail of carving, so many whimsically +planned and exquisitely carried out irregularities, or such lovely, +well-preserved sandstone. That quarry which gave the material for +Melrose and Dryburgh was a treasure-mine, and even the Romans knew and +valued it. I was quite glad to find those two-agreeing about something, +because ever since Basil joined us they have differed politely over +nearly every subject that came up. + +We had been deeply occupied with Michael Scott's supposed grave, and the +story of the "dark magic" by which he divided into three, Eildon Hill, +in whose caverns Arthur and his warriors still sleep their enchanted +sleep; and so, when some strangers approached us, we didn't even look +up. A very intelligent custodian, who has written a book about the +Abbey, was showing us round at that moment, and telling things about Sir +Ralph Evers, whom the Douglases killed for revenge, on Ancrum Moor, and +all about the pillar with the "curly green capital." He had saved the +Douglas Heart for the last, as the crowning glory in the history of +Melrose; but when we'd done some sort of justice to everything else, he +marched us into the presbytery where the Heart is buried, and where, +according to his theory, it is commemorated in the carved stone tracery +of the window. + +A man with his back to us turned as we appeared, and I interrupted the +custodian's learned discourse by crying out the name most sacred in the +Abbey. "Mr. Douglas!" I exclaimed; for it was he--the Douglas +soldier-man who was so kind, taking us all round the castle at Carlisle. +He said we might meet at Edinburgh, as he was soon to have leave, and +intended to visit relatives there, but it was a surprise coming on him +in the shrine of his ancestors. + +I thought, of course, his arriving at that minute was an extraordinary +coincidence; but when Sir S. shook hands, and asked in a matter-of-fact +tone, "How is it we meet here?" he confessed, as if half ashamed, that +it wasn't exactly an accident. "You see, I often come to Melrose for a +look round if I'm in Scotland on leave," he said, "and I saw in the +paper yesterday that you were motoring in this neighbourhood, expecting +to call at Dryburgh and Melrose before Edinburgh." + +"Ah, yes--that interview Aline gave a journalist acquaintance of mine at +Dumfries," I heard George Vanneck murmur to Basil, who looked rather +cross. + +"I arrived at the hotel just after you'd been there to leave your +luggage and sign names in the visitors' book," Donald Douglas went on. +"They said you were motoring over to Abbotsford, and would come back to +see the Abbey later; so it occurred to me, if I strolled over about this +time, we might run across each other." + +"Quite so," remarked Sir S.; an expression I detest, it sounds so like +filing iron, especially as he said it then. However, the soldier-man +didn't appear to mind in the least that the Great Somerled was stiff and +unsympathetic. He attached himself to me, as I was his only other real +acquaintance, except Mrs. James, in the party; and of course, as he +reminded me, we were very old friends--as old as the day we first saw +each other in the street at Carlisle, years and years ago. + +He seemed to know as much as the custodian about Melrose and the Douglas +Heart--which was natural, as he so values everything connected with his +family name. He told me all about the good Sir James Douglas: how King +Robert Bruce when dying begged his friend to take his heart to the Holy +Land, and bury it where he had wished to go and fight for Christendom as +an expiation for killing the Red Comyn. It was as good as a chapter out +of a novel to hear how the Douglas got permission from the new king to +be gone seven years on his great adventure; how he heard on his way to +Jerusalem that King Alfonso of Spain was fighting the Saracens at +Granada, and couldn't resist offering his help, being sure that Robert +Bruce would have done the same; how in battle against Osmyn, the Saracen +king, he was hard pressed, and taking the casket with Brace's heart in +it from over his own heart, he threw it far ahead of him in the enemy's +ranks, shouting, "Pass first in fight, as thou wert ever wont. Douglas +will follow thee or die!" And how he did both follow and die, but +falling only when he had killed many Moslems and hewed his way through +their bodies to where the heart lay. + +"That's the old story of the Douglas Heart," said the soldier-man, "and +there's a new story of the Douglas Heart I hope you'll let me tell you +some day before long, because it's even more interesting--to me." + +"Why, then, I expect it will be to me too," said I politely, "so why not +tell it me now, in Melrose Abbey, the place of all places?" + +He looked at me in an odd way, and said, "Yes, it _is_ the place of all +places; but I'm afraid it's a little too early in the day----" + +Just then Basil came up to announce that Mrs. James had sent him to +fetch me, as we must return to the hotel and dress. + +"Too bad!" I exclaimed. But as Sir S. was not far off I called to him, +"Don't you think we may come back here again after dinner?" + +"Certainly, if you like," he answered. "Although the moon will have +gone." + +"That doesn't matter," said I; "there will be stars. Mr. Douglas has a +_new_ story of the Douglas Heart to tell me, which he thinks is even +more interesting than the old, and it ought to be told in the Abbey." + +When I explained this, Donald Douglas turned bright scarlet, and all +three of the Vannecks burst out laughing, which I thought extremely rude +and uncalled for. But Sir S. looked as solemn as a judge. + +"No doubt he's right about it's being more interesting, and quite as +credible," said he. + +I don't know whether Mr. Douglas would have asked Mrs. James and me to +walk over to the Abbey with him after dinner or not, if the weather had +kept fine, but a thunder shower came up and it poured. So, although I +teased him again to tell me the new story, when everybody but Mrs. James +and he and I were playing bridge in our private sitting-room, he +refused. "I'll wait till Edinburgh," he said, "if you'll let me see you +there." + +I had to explain that I didn't know where I should stay in Edinburgh, as +that would depend upon my mother, to whom Mr. Somerled MacDonald was +taking me. + +"And Somerled himself, and the others?" he asked. + +"Oh, they're going on," said I, "leaving me behind." + +He looked delighted; so perhaps he had not forgiven the Vannecks for +laughing. + + + + +BOOK III + +BASIL'S PLOT AND "MRS. BAL" + + + + +I + + +Will the time come, I wonder, when I can calmly "work up" these things +into a plot? If so, I foresee that I shall have to toss a coin to decide +on the casting of my own part in the story. Heads, I am hero; tails, I +am villain. But it has always been a theory of mine that ninety-nine out +of a hundred novels are unjust toward some of their principal +characters. Each (alleged) villain ought to have his motives and actions +explained from his own point of view, not according to that of the (also +alleged) hero and heroine whom he possibly tries (with success or +failure) to separate. If this were done in books, villains _qua_ +villains would practically cease to exist; for it seems to me, in my +experience of life as a man and a writer, that no normal, healthy +villain is a villain in his own eyes. To understand all is to pardon +all; and in analyzing his motives in order to justify himself to +himself, he sees from every point of vantage, he knows how necessary +certain actions are which appear evil to the limited view of the hero +and heroine. They see him always obliquely, in profile; therefore they +are prejudiced. And what is doubly unfair to the poor villain, the +author of the book sympathizes with the others from first to last; +whereas, if the villain were allowed to explain himself in his own way, +not the author's, he would stand in the centre of the picture. Not being +prejudiced against himself, he would have a chance of appealing to the +readers' sense of justice. + +Unfortunately for me, I have a way of seeing two sides of a question at +once, even when my own interests and those of another are violently +opposed. This is a kind of moral colour-blindness; for to be +colour-blind means merely that your eyes give you an impression of red +and green at the same tune, so that you can with difficulty tell which +is which. Both kinds of colour-blindness, moral and physical, handicap +you for success in life. On the whole, I think the moral sort is the +more inconvenient of the two. If you saw nobody's motives but your own, +you would be able honestly to detest your enemy and work against him. +You would then be happy and successful, because of your complete +self-confidence. It is seeing the enemy's point of view, and +sympathizing in spite of yourself with him, which upsets you. + +That has been my state of mind ever since I was a small and +over-sensitive kid who wouldn't watch a terrier worry a rat because +something made me put myself at once in the rat's place. Wiser boys +called me a milksop and various other names, which I furiously resented +yet inwardly recognized as just. Also they kicked me at times, and +bashed me on the nose. I did my best in wild tempests of rage to kick +and bash them in return, and now and then I gave them back as good or +better than I had from them. But if I saw their blood flow, that same +ridiculous Something which went out to the rat sickened within me, and +was sorry. + +I understand myself rather well, when I'm not in the grip of emotion; +but at present my eyes are blinded. I feel so intensely for myself and +for my sister that I'm not sure whether I act as I do more for her sake +or my own. Probably, however, it is for my own. And, curiously enough, I +dimly see past this brain-storm and heart-storm to some day of calmer +weather when it may still be possible to make use of myself and her, +and--the others, as "material." I don't know if I shall do this, yet it +may happen; and sometimes, even now, these disturbing incidents take +form in my mind as scenes for a future book. I suppose this shows that +the writer in me stands in front of the man. Some day I shall see myself +clearly again one way or the other. + +It was going to be a pleasant little story, this Scotch romance Aline +and I had planned. I knew all the people in it intimately, and was in a +hurry to pick the lock of their prison with my pen, for they were +impatient to get out and begin to live and move. I thought Aline was +almost as much interested, though she never gets into such wild +enthusiasm over a new book that she can hardly wait to write it. She's +too well-balanced, and has too many outside interests, as a very pretty +and popular young woman should have; whereas, since the joy of writing +saved my life, it has always been first with me--until the other day. + +With Aline, the mischief began on shipboard--or perhaps a little before, +though I realized then for the first time what was happening. + +I have great faith in Aline's charm. I've seen several clever and +important men go down before it; but somehow I felt doubtful about +Somerled. If Aline has a lack--I may admit it here--it is temperament. +Possibly I have a touch of what she misses. And until I began to write, +I often wished to be without it. Anyhow, I can see that, sweet and +delightful as she is, a man of temperament might in exalted moments find +a note flat in the music of companionship. + +Somerled has, I should think, spent at least ten years in trying to bury +his temperament under layers of hard common sense. But all the time it +was there, like boiling hot lava under a cold crust; and when Aline told +me how he valued their friendship, I wondered whether she were right, +and just how deeply his admiration of her was rooted in his heart. I +wondered if she were the type of woman he would want, not only for a +friend, but by and by for his wife; and caring for Aline as I do, I +worried about her affairs a good deal, apart from the influence they +were likely to have on the book. Still, I confess I thought as much +about the people in the story I had in mind as I did of my sister--if +not more, at that time. + +Then, the night Aline and I had our big talk about Somerled, the Girl +came. And that was the end of the book for me too. + +If some time I grow callous enough to write her into a romance (she'd +fit into nothing else), I doubt if I could make clear the extraordinary +and instantaneous effect of her on all those she approaches. + +It isn't only her looks, though she's beautiful, as some blithe sprite +met by chance in a forest. It isn't only her youth, for she is too +absurdly young. A girl, to be taken seriously by a grown man, should be +at least one-and-twenty. She is, I believe, on the lilied edge of +eighteen. Ridiculous! Yet where she is, other women, also beautiful and +also young, are dimmed like candles that have burned all night when a +window is flung open in the face of sunrise. Something in her eyes, her +smile, the turn of her head, the light on her lashes and the shadow +under them, the way she catches in her breath when she laughs and looks +at you, the curl of her hair and the colour and fragrance of it, call to +the deeps in a man. I defy any man to resist her completely. I have +watched men in the street as I walked with her, or in hotel dining-rooms +as she came in. Be they old or young, weak or strong, grave or gay, +intelligent or dull, at sight of her the same pagan light of romance +springs into their eyes. Mysterious and irresistible as the lure of the +Pied Piper is the lure of this child who knows nothing of her own power. + +She is a true daughter of Nature, but--she is also the daughter of Mrs. +Bal. + +Can Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald have been such a one when she was +eighteen? No, in spite of the haunting, almost impish likeness, I'm sure +she cannot. But I think Somerled wonders, and that now and then the +relationship and the resemblance creep between him and his instinctive +perception of truth in the girl. + +She came to us with Somerled on the night of our first sight of her, +leading him as Una might have led her lion. + +It was a blow to Aline, a blow over the heart, and I felt it for her on +mine. She managed her affairs badly next day, but I didn't blame her. I +couldn't. Somerled and I had already lost our heads. + +I scarcely believe Somerled was in love with the girl then; perhaps he +isn't even now. He merely felt the call of youth, and a strange beauty +and a stranger vitality. His life needed this call. It waked up the +sleeping youth in his own heart. It set his old enthusiasms singing like +birds uncaged. It made him want to be again all the things he had +decided not to be. It brought back beliefs in realities that he had +feared were illusions. In other words, it freed the temperamental artist +and dreamer from the spoilt and successful millionaire. But he could +have let the bright vision go, perhaps, and have been pleasantly +contented later to remember it, if--it hadn't been for Aline. Because +she wanted to part them and make him forget the girl's existence, she +took the very way to throw them together. Then, when she had done her +worst, she turned to _me_ for help. + +I was horribly sorry for her, and the keen hurt of my sympathy made me +fear for myself. The girl had got hold of me too, of course. When I +found that she was going away from us with Somerled, I felt physically +sick with the sense of loss. It was as if, with Barrie gone, everything +was gone. I knew that poor Aline must be suffering exactly the same dumb +tortures in regard to Somerled, whom she had thought so nearly hers. And +that is why, when she begged me to help--somehow, anyhow--I wasn't sure +whether I promised to please her or myself. + +I was able to do very little toward keeping the promise, either way, +until Edinburgh. It was there, really, that Aline and I first seriously +took up the rôle of villains--if we are villains. But two persons less +well cut out by Nature for such parts can hardly exist. We want to be +good and happy, and we want each other to be happy, and all those whom +we love to be happy; but we want them to be happy with us and through +us. This is where Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald comes into the plot. Without +her, nothing could have happened as it is happening. + +I shall never forget that first scene between the girl and her mother. I +knew it would not be recorded in that poor little "book" of Barrie's, +which every day she was writing and hiding. I thought that the book, +which had no doubt been leading up to this scene, would probably stop +short at the last sentence breathing hope of it. + +Not that I have seen what she wrote. It was I who put the idea of +writing into her head; but, though she didn't guess it, that was only +done to give myself the right of Mentor when I still supposed we should +all start gayly off together for Edinburgh from Carlisle. I suggested +that she and I should "collaborate." Ha, ha! I believe "ha, _ha_," by +the way, is an ejaculation confined entirely to thwarted villains in +stageland; but if I am a villain, I'm not thwarted yet. + +Aline's attack of temper, which upset everything, upset that scheme +among the rest; but it seems the impulse I gave, pushed Barrie on to +achieve something literary. Only, she steadily refused to let me see a +line she wrote. The sole pleasure I got out of her taking my advice was +in Somerled's face when I teased the girl about her "work." If he had +been teaching her to sketch and paint I should have felt the same. + +He is afraid of himself, because she has captured his thoughts; and +afraid of her, because she's Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald's daughter. When +he sees her followed by a trail of young men, like a bright comet with a +tail it's been busily collecting in a journey through space, he asks +himself whether this is going to be Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald over +again? He wonders if he dare believe in the kindness of Barrie's smiles +for him, or whether his portion is no better than those she deals out +gayly to the rest of us. At least, this is as I judge him, though from +the first we've exchanged no confidences on the subject of "Mrs. Bal" or +Barrie her daughter. + +Somerled knew Mrs. Bal in America. I never made her acquaintance, but I +saw her act in Montreal every night of her engagement there. I couldn't +keep away--yet I didn't want to meet her. I thought perhaps if I did I +should be ass enough to fall in love. That is the truth. A good many +fellows of my acquaintance, and others I'd heard of, had fallen in love, +and had been flirted with till the lady was sick and tired of them. +After that they were very sorry for themselves. I never heard anything +else against Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald, and I don't believe there's +anything worse to hear, than that she's a spoiled, flattered, selfish, +and self-centred beauty, who expects every man to fall down before her, +and generally gets what she expects. + +None of us talked much to Barrie about her mother, though at first she +was continually bringing up the subject. We knew she thought of it +constantly: that beneath all her joy in escape from bondage, in +motoring, and in her adventures in beautiful, historic scenes, there was +always that undertone--"When I meet my mother." And we too felt the +strain of suspense, though in a different way--at least, Somerled and I +felt it. I could see it often in the peculiar darkening of his face when +anything happened to suggest the idea of the mother in the background. +As for Aline, I suppose it was but natural her only interest in Mrs. Bal +should be, "How will her reception of the girl affect me, if at all?" + +Aline's arranging to pick up the Vannecks at Dumfries gave her the +excuse she's been longing for ever since the quarrel, to get me into +Somerled's car, though she didn't wish to seem as if she were forcing +herself upon him. Perhaps he might have found some way of shuffling out +of it, but in St. Michael's churchyard at Dumfries she asked if he +didn't think the "little romance a very pretty one?" He inquired what +she meant. She appeared amused at his denseness--"so like a man!"--and +said, "Why, what could I mean except dear Basil and little Barrie? I +didn't know _any one_ could help seeing! But don't say anything, please. +It might nip the orange-blossoms in the bud." + +She told me this afterward, because I had to know if I were to "live up +to it." And I'm afraid by that time I was ready to live up to it, +whatever the consequences might be. That is enough to explain why +Somerled without hesitation invited me to migrate into his car when +Aline had filled up Blunderbore with a party of three guests. He might +even then have kept Barrie in her place beside him, or have appointed me +to it; but that wouldn't have been Somerled as I see him, saying to +himself, "Let them have each other's society, since that's what they +want. I don't know what _I_ want, or whether it's best for her or me +that I should want anything." + +Right or wrong about his state of mind as I may be whatever it was, he +surrendered to me with an air of grave kindness which put on again the +several years he had thrown off in the last week. (Yes, it was only a +week that had made these changes for all of us!) Sitting with Barrie and +her good friend Mrs. James (great character, that little woman: must use +her in a book sooner or later), I knew just how passionately the girl +was looking forward to the "surprise" meeting with her mother. My nerves +were as tense as hers--even more tense, it may be, for I was like one +behind the scenes, knowing what she did not know. I felt so sure the +"surprise" was going to turn out differently from what she pictured that +I had a sense of guilt whenever I saw her smiling dreamily. I was +continually wondering what would happen, and what she would do when it +did happen. And I had the impression that Somerled constantly brooded +over the same subject, asking himself the same questions. The happier +the girl was, the sorrier we both were for her, silently, without +telling each other, and the more we wished to save her from any +suffering to come. I knew that I could read so far into Somerled's +thoughts, where they kept to the same road as mine; but I doubt if he +were conscious of any fellow-feeling with me. I was to him only the most +deeply infatuated and the most seriously in earnest of Barrie +MacDonald's rapidly accumulating string of ridiculous young men. + +Sympathy and curiosity, tossed together in an indistinguishable mass, +made a confused omelette of my emotions as we spun along that lovely +wooded road past Galashiels and into Edinburgh. I wanted to witness the +first meeting of mother and daughter, yet I dreaded it. I didn't see how +I could decently contrive to be "on" in that scene, yet I felt it would +be too bad to be true that it should be enacted in my absence--almost as +monstrous as that the world should be able to get on with me out of it. + +It was Somerled, of course, who settled that his Gray Dragon (Barrie's +name for the car) should arrive at Edinburgh on Sunday morning instead +of Monday. He didn't trouble himself with intricate explanations, merely +remarking that a Scotch Sunday was a bad day for travellers, apart from +their religious conventions. If they hadn't any, others had; and those +others were the very ones with power to make backsliders uncomfortable. +They could close abbeys and museums, and they could shut the doors of +inns in hungry faces at meal-times. "Besides," he finished, without a +smile, "I took over the job of guardian _pro tem_ from Barrie's +grandmother, and I'm sure Mrs. MacDonald would wish her granddaughter to +go to church on Sunday." + +Barrie opened her eyes at this speech. Probably she'd never heard any +talk of theology from Somerled, and was puzzled by his sudden interest +in her spiritual decorum. I guessed that he wanted to give her the +brilliant spectacle at St. Giles as a surprise on his last day of +guardianship, but it occurred to me also that there might be other +reasons in his mind for cutting short the tour. He might be tired of me +as a guest thrust upon him. He might be sick of the American boys, and +the soldier, Barrie's latest collected specimen (the Douglas youth also +is travelling _en automobile_), or he might have reflected that it would +be well to find out in advance where Mrs. Bal meant to pass her +Edinburgh week. He must have realized that such a spoiled pet of society +was as likely to visit admiring friends as to put up at a hotel. + +We left Melrose a little before eight o'clock, promising Aline and the +Vannecks (who hate getting up early) to engage rooms for them at the +Caledonian Hotel. We had forty-six miles before us, but the Gray Dragon +bolts a mile as a dog bolts an oyster, and as it was too early for many +other dragons of his kind to be on the march, Somerled did a little +discreet scorching through the lovely green and gold and purple +landscape, past Galashiels, Stow, and Heriot. This haste--which didn't +mean less speed--gave us time for a detour of a few miles to Rosslyn +Chapel, which it would have been a shame to miss. + +I wish I knew more about architecture! I thought Rosslyn a gem, and +should have described it as a thing of unique perfection; but Somerled, +who knows all about such things, said no, it was far from right +artistically, though beautiful in spite of faults. My description would +briefly be: whole chapel like great carved jewel-casket for a queen; +ornamentation simply dazzling in intricacy and delicate detail; +extraordinary pale rose-flush in shadow on stone pillars, which have the +rich cream tints of carved ivory. No two alike: Spanish spirit visible +here. Reminded me of detail in Burgos Cathedral. Nice story about the +Prentice's Pillar. I looked it up when I found we were going to Rosslyn, +and told it to Barrie before Somerled had a chance to open his mouth. +Showed her the sculptured head of presumptuous man who dared finish the +column according to design of his own, while this master was +unsuspectingly studying up ideas for it in Rome. She thought the pillar +more beautiful than the "horrid master's" work, and almost cried to hear +that the prentice had died from the mallet-stroke of the jealous +avenger. Barrie with tears in her eyes is a danger to beholders. She was +particularly adorable just then, as her hair was wet with rain (our +first rain) and curled on her forehead in little tendrils. This rain, by +the way, came on worse later, and was perhaps the original, if indirect, +cause of what might be called our villainhood--Aline's and mine. + +We were pretty well drenched getting from Dragon to Chapel and from +Chapel to Dragon, though the distance was nothing, but the downpour +severe. Then, we three passengers were safely housed in the closed car +while Somerled and Vedder the chauffeur had the full benefit of the +storm. They were protected by a glass screen, but the waterspouts seemed +to find them out, and Mrs. James and Barrie were so sorry for the two +men that I felt a "luxurious slave" to cringe in shelter while others +soaked. + +Vedder, by the way, interests me as a type. I thought Aline and I had +used up nearly all possible types of chauffeurs, but he's a new one, and +may prove valuable in case of future need. I understand that he was +distinguished in his remote past as a prize-fighter, then as a Cockney +coachman in London. Somerled rescued him from something or +other--prison, probably, judging by the shape of his nose (think it must +have been broken and mended in absent-minded moment by amateur) and the +look he gives me occasionally from corner of eye--like vicious horse +cowed by owner and dangerous to strangers. Barrie and Mrs. James think +him such a "quiet, nice man." It is not their business to judge +character, luckily for their illusions. My opinion of Vedder--who looks +exactly like the frog footman in Tenniel's illustrations of "Alice in +Wonderland"--is that he's a smouldering volcano. He never speaks unless +absolutely necessary, then uses as few words as possible, but his +thoughts seethe in language unfit for publication except where his +worshipped master is concerned. He also, in his way, is a victim of +Barrie MacDonald. He has mentally apportioned her to Somerled, as spoil +of battle. His vicious wall-eyes regard with distrust and hatred other +male creatures who dare to contend for the prize. If he could arrange an +accident to the Dragon without injuring it (an idol only second in his +heart to Somerled) or any one under its wing, except me and himself, I +feel sure he would risk his own bones for the sake of cracking mine. As +for my sister, he does not approve of her. In looking Aline-ward, his +face seems to become perfectly flat, like a slab of stone, features +almost disappearing, except his slit of a mouth. "Nice, quiet man! So +contented with his uncomfortable perch at his master's feet!" But--when +the slightest mishap befalls the Dragon, and his services are needed as +doctor or surgeon, he lets bottled-up steam escape. Without a word, he +sets to work like a demon, accomplishing what he has to do in about half +the time our best chauffeurs have taken. I should not be surprised at +any moment to see ears, eyes, and nose emit lambent flames. Chauffeurs +are a strange race, and Vedder is the strangest of the lot. + +Drawing near Edinburgh, and encountering the first tram lines, it was +pretty to watch Barrie's excitement. To understand, one had to remember +that this was by far the biggest town the child had ever seen, so that +even the outskirts impressed her as something stupendous. + +As if for her pleasure, the rain stopped. "The nice, quiet man" +uncovered us pampered passengers, and as we went on again, Edinburgh the +beautiful, lying before us like a shadowy blue and purple map, began to +take shape as a city of spires and monuments and gardens, and reveal its +unique marvels. At this moment, I had my uses. Though it was my first +sight of the Athens of Great Britain, I've fagged it all up so +faithfully for the book that I know what everything is and what most +things mean. I ventured to point out the Salisbury Crags, and Arthur's +Seat watching over the town and Castle like a guardian lion. It was all +very well for Barrie to come to Edinburgh to find her mother, but I +didn't want her to miss realizing that she was entering perhaps the most +beautiful city in the world, and one of the most historic, after Rome. I +knew if I didn't give her this impression Somerled would, and wickedly I +wished her to be primed by me before he got his chance. The only trouble +was that I hadn't enough time to make her see fully all the glorious +contrasts which ought to strike the mind at first sight of Edinburgh, +where Yesterday and To-day gaze at and criticise each other across a +gulf material and imaginary. Even though Somerled brought the Dragon +down to snail's pace, I couldn't do the subject justice, with my best +eloquence snatched at random from notebooks. Mrs. James would keep +interrupting with quotations from "the doctor's" famous unfinished MSS. +I would almost have preferred the silent Vedder as a chaperon. But there +was some comfort in the certainty that Somerled was envying me the place +to which I'd been appointed by himself. As he was driving through +traffic, and couldn't glance round, he was unable to see how Barrie's +eyes wandered from the points I indicated to others which she selected +for herself. + +My dramatic announcement, that where now rises the solid gray mass of +old Edinburgh once crouched the wattled houses of the first inhabitants, +scarcely caught her attention. She would gaze dreamily at Arthur's Seat, +because Mrs. James had just unfolded a meretricious legend to the effect +that King Arthur used to sit there and watch his troops. And the dark +crag of the Castle, with its thousand years of history, its crowning +walls and towers, its chasms of purple shadow, riveted her fancy when I +would have discoursed on the modern charm of Princes Street--that "half +a street" so much more splendid than any whole street ever planned. + +"The doctor told me, I remember," said Mrs. James, "that at the end of +the eighteenth century, when they wanted to build the new Edinburgh, +they had to bribe people by giving them large tracts of land in order to +make them move out of the old town, or they wouldn't budge. Sometimes a +quarter of what they presented to one man in those days is worth a +hundred thousand pounds now." + +In spite of the girl's excited admiration of the goddess-town, her first +question on getting out of the car was to Somerled about her mother. "I +think, if she stops at a hotel, she's likely to choose this one," he +said. "That's why I've brought you here." + +"Thank you," she answered. "Thank you for everything." Then it was my +turn to envy him. + +She was pale, her face drained of colour, and extraordinarily spiritual +as she stood in the big hall, waiting to hear what Somerled would be +told at the desk. He came back soon, and announced that Mrs. Ballantree +MacDonald had engaged a suite at this hotel, but it was not known +whether she would arrive that night or on Monday morning. + +"Meanwhile, I've taken a room for you adjoining Mrs. James, as usual," +Somerled said. "When your mother arrives and you have met, she can make +any new arrangement for you she chooses." + +"And you--will go on--with the others?" asked Barrie, catching her +breath in that engaging way she has when she is excited and trying to +control emotion. + +"I shall go on--sooner or later," replied Somerled. "But--I shall have a +look round Edinburgh first, and see what has happened to my old haunts." + +I thought her face brightened. + +"Aline and I must 'do' Edinburgh too, of course," said I. + +She smiled, but as if she were thinking of something else. And it was +then that suddenly, for the first time, I felt capable of developing +into an able-bodied villain--in fact, committing any crime which could +transfer from him to me the kind of look she had given Somerled. + +"I must of course go back to Carlisle and my work, as soon as I have +paid my respects to Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald," remarked Mrs. James. + +"We'll talk of all that to-morrow," said Somerled, who, I suppose, +engaged her at so much a thousand words--I mean, so much a day--as +chaperon for his "ward." "Whatever happens, you must see Edinburgh while +you're here. And besides, it's on the cards that I may be able to give +you a pleasant little surprise before you leave Scotland. I rather hoped +for details of it to-day; but there's nothing interesting in the mail +they handed me at the desk" (he said this like a native-born American), +"so we must have patience till to-morrow." + +"A surprise!" echoed Mrs. James, looking quite pretty and young, as she +surprisingly does sometimes. "Does Barrie know?" + +"No," said Somerled. "Barrie doesn't know." + +There was just time to go to our new rooms and make ourselves +respectable for church, no light thing in Scotland. Aline and the +Vannecks hadn't turned up yet, but, knowing them and knowing +Blunderbore, I thought nothing strange of the delay. Aline's game was, +of course, to make Somerled jealous of George Vanneck, her old and +well-worn chattel, whom she at heart despises, and to seem not too eager +for his (Somerled's) society, while I, attached to his party by special +arrangement, could protect her interests--and my own. + +Somerled had ordered Vedder to wait with the Dragon when the luggage +had been taken down, and thus we saved ourselves some minutes +which we should have lost in walking. We left the car as soon as +possible, however, and plunged into the beauty and squalor of the High +Street on foot. I annexed Barrie as a companion, and Somerled did not +fight for her. Quietly he contented, or seemed to content, himself +with Mrs. James, and my impression was confirmed that, whether he +wanted Barrie or not, he was deliberately standing aside in my favour, +giving me my "chance"--perhaps to test Barrie or me--or both. Who could +tell? Not I. Somerled is hard to read, even for a professional +character-vivisectionist. + +"Are you too much excited, and taken up with thoughts of your mother, to +care about all this?" I asked the girl. + +She admitted that she was excited, and perhaps a little absent-minded; +but "all this," as I called it, was too wonderful not to capture her +interest in spite of everything. + +"Think of Queen Mary and her four Maries, and Darnley, and Rizzio, and +Bothwell, and John Knox passing along as we pass now, on their way up to +Holyrood?" said I. + +"Yes. Oh, yes! I _do_ think of them," she answered obediently, her eyes +straying into the shadows of wynd or close, or tracing out the detail of +some carved gargoyle on an old façade. + +"Only you think of yourself more----" + +"Not myself exactly. But----" + +"What then?" + +"Well--one thinks of queer things in a place like this, full of romances +and--and love stories. I was wondering----" + +"Yes. Don't be afraid to tell me. We're fellow-authors, you +know--brother and sister of the pen." + +"That's it! Brother and sister, aren't we? How nice!" + +"Of the pen," I amended hastily. + +"Story writers must know all about love," she hesitated. + +"We do," I encouraged her to go on. + +"Then how, if you were writing a story (I'm thinking I may want to do +one), would you make a girl sure whether she'd fallen in love with +somebody?" + +"I should make her," I answered cautiously, with an earthquake in my +heart, "I should make her feel--er--a sort of electric thrill when he +touched her, or looked into her eyes. I should make her feel that +nothing was worth doing unless the man was with her." + +"I know!" the girl murmured. "She would feel, wouldn't she, as if he +_must_ be there--as if she just couldn't go on living if he weren't." + +"That's it," I said. "You've described it graphically." + +She regarded me with sudden suspicion. "Thank you very much," she +replied primly. "I'll take your advice and have it like that in my +story, if I ever write it. What a _wonderful_ old street this is! It's +full of ghosts of kings and queens, and noblemen and great ladies, and +soldiers and robbers, every one of them more important than the people +we see." + +I couldn't tempt her back to the dangerous subject and soon I prudently +ceased to try. But she had given me what I've heard described as a +"nasty jar." Barrie MacDonald wouldn't have appealed to Basil Norman for +a definition of love if she'd thought of him as a man and not a brother! +The side of me nearest my heart hated Somerled, marching on ahead, +looking singularly attractive and gallant, much too interesting for a +mere millionaire. And the side of me which has telephonic communication +with my brain liked and approved of him, understanding how and why his +personality made a strong appeal to most women. "You've had pretty well +everything you've asked life to give you so far," I said to his back, +"but this girl isn't your kind of girl. It's my sister you ought to +want." + +Suddenly, as we drew near to the crowned church of St. Giles--the old +High Kirk--there came to our ears the skirling of pipes. Barrie started +and stopped. Somerled glanced round quickly, his eyes keen. Would she +prove her Highland blood? Would her heart beat for the pipes? That was +the question in his look. + +The girl was taken by surprise. We others knew what we had come for, and +what to expect. She had no idea, except that she was being conducted +decently to church. + +At the first wail of the pipes the blood of her ancestors sprang to her +face. She clasped her hands together, listening in silence to the +barbaric music, her lips apart, her eyes aglow. And all this for the +call of the pipes! Not yet had she caught her first glimpse of the +pipers; but an instant later the tall figures came swinging proudly into +sight, plaids swaying like tartan tassels, kilts moving with that +wave-about-to-break rhythm given to their garments only by inspired +pipers. + +Even I felt a thrill as if each nerve in my body were a string drawn +suddenly taut, but I was gloomily conscious that the Celtic souls of +Somerled and Barrie felt more than I was capable of feeling, a +mysterious something which drew the two together at this instant. +Physically, I stood between them, but I knew that my body was no +obstacle to the lightning flash between their spirits. + +Not a word said one of us as the goodly company of soldiers swept by in +a rich-coloured cloud of their own music. But when all had disappeared +into the church, Somerled and Barrie looked at each other. His eyes +praised her for a braw and bonnie lassie who had responded in fine style +to her first-heard pipes, her first-seen kilt; yet his lips had nothing +to say but, "Well, what do you think of them?" + +"Think?" echoed Barrie. "I think it's perfectly unbelievable how any +girl can ever marry a man who isn't a Highlander and has no right to the +kilt!" + +There was one for Somerled and one against me; but it only got my blood +up. Many a girl says a certain thing, and does another when her time +comes. + +"If I were rich," she went on, "I'd live in a castle in the Highlands, +and I'd have it _full_, simply _swarming_, with pipers, playing me awake +in the morning and to sleep at night." + +"I should like you to see your own castle of Dunelin at Dhrum. There are +plenty of pipers there. I've kept them all on, meaning them to play for +me some day," said Somerled, who had just then forgotten, I think, the +existence of myself and Mrs. James, and failed to observe that in the +distance all Miss Barribel MacDonald's missing young men were +assembling, as if to the call of the blood--the soldier from Carlisle, +who had collected a friend, and the American contingent of four. + +"My own castle?" Barrie repeated. + +"You know what I mean. It would be yours if you'd been a boy. As you +aren't----" + +"It's yours!" laughed she. + +"Not by right of blood. Only by right of money." + +"Well, that's the sovereign right," she insisted, pleased with her own +pun. + +Then the victims of our miniature Circe arrived in the foreground, shook +hands, bandied jokes, and became the most prominent figures in the +picture. For the first time I was glad to see them, nor did I bear the +youths ill-will for separating me from our beneficent enchantress in the +stately church with historic banners. They had separated her from +Somerled as well. + +After service was over, we stopped only for a look at the stones which +mark in the pavement the old Heart of Midlothian, and then hurried back +to the hotel, escaping the Americans, but clung to by Douglas and his +cousin, another Douglas, who hospitably bade us all to visit him at all +his houses. He mentioned several, dotted about in various parts of the +country; but when he heard that Miss MacDonald was retiring from the +party in a day or two, he ceased to press the general invitation. + +There was news of Mrs. Bal at the Caledonian. A maid had arrived who +thought that her mistress would not follow until the evening: Somerled +asked Barrie, therefore--rather wistfully, I thought--if she would care +to go out again in the afternoon. "It will make the time pass for you," +he added. I sympathized with him against my will. It was to be his last +day of "guardianship," yet he was generous enough to invite me; and not +only that, but to let me sit in the car with Barrie and Mrs. James, on +the way to Arthur's Seat. After this effort, however, human nature had +its way, and he kept her to himself for the rest of the afternoon. It +was the first time he had done this since I fastened myself upon the +party. To-day, it was evidently by deliberate intention, not accident. +It was as if he said to himself, "These last hours shall be mine." And I +wondered if indeed he actually meant them to be last hours. For my part, +I certainly meant nothing of the sort. Mrs. Bal, or no Mrs. Bal, Aline +or no Aline, Book or no Book, I didn't intend to walk out of Barrie's +life without trying to win a foothold in it for the future. + +If I had an opinion on such matters, I should have said, up to a week +ago, that I didn't approve of marriage for a girl under twenty, as she +couldn't possibly know her own mind; but Barrie is the kind of exception +to prove any rule. She ought to have a man to take care of her. + +Before five we started back, for Mrs. James thought Barrie needed a nap. +It appeared that she hadn't slept the night before, owing to the +excitement of suspense; and now "her eyes must be bright for their first +look at her mother." + +Drawn up at the pavement in front of the hotel as we slowed down was a +big blue car, and another smaller one close behind, both of the same +make, and evidently belonging to the same people. We had to choose +between waiting for them to disgorge passengers and unload luggage, or +get out at a distance from the entrance. We took the latter course, but +at the hotel door Barrie stopped us. She wore no veil; and though it was +to Somerled, not me, she spoke, I could see that her face was pale, her +eyes dilated. + +"Do you think that can be my mother arriving?" she asked in a low voice. + +He looked back at the lady who, at this instant, was springing from the +blue car to the pavement, her hand in that of a man who offered +unnecessary help. It was a tall figure in a long cloak the colour of a +duck's egg, and it gave the effect of willowy slimness despite the +disguising mantle. A close-fitting toque of greenish grayish blue +covered the small head, and the face was practically invisible behind a +thick veil of the same mystic colour; but as the lady turned her long +throat for a look at the other car, there was a glimpse of banded red +hair under the toque, and a curl or two at the nape of the neck. + +The two women in the smaller car also had red hair. They were not +veiled, and their neat black hats and jackets somehow advertised them +unmistakably as ladies' maids. Neither was pretty, in spite of her +flaming crown of glory; and neither was young. + +The remembrance of an "interview" with Mrs. Bal which I had read in some +paper flashed back to my mind. She had told the reporter that "only +red-haired servants could understand the moods of a red-haired +mistress," and that, after disastrous experiences with "dull creatures +who had no temperament themselves, and couldn't live with any one who +had," she decided to engage only red-haired maids. + +Perhaps Somerled knew of this idiosyncrasy, or else he recognized the +tall form in spite of its wrappings, for he said, "Yes, I think very +likely it is your mother, Barrie. But we can't be sure; and in any case +I strongly advise you not to try and speak to her here in the street." + +"Oh, I won't till she gets her veil off," said Barrie breathlessly, "but +I must wait and see her come into the hall. I----" + +Somerled gently but firmly drew the girl into the hotel. Mrs. James and +I followed. Evidently Somerled wanted to persuade Barrie that it would +be better to keep out of the lady's way as she entered, and meet later, +if indeed this were Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald; but the girl seemed +hardly to hear his murmured arguments. She did yield far enough to let +him lead her a little aside, but she took up her stand again where she +could see the blue figure enter. She did not speak, or insist upon her +own way, yet I think it would have been impossible to move her without +using brute force. Somerled realized that nothing was to be done with +the child for the moment, and accordingly did nothing, except to stand +beside her. Mrs. James and I took our places mechanically on the girl's +other side, though no word passed between us. + +Never had I seen Barrie so beautiful. Though a brilliant colour burned +on her cheeks, she looked curiously spiritual. Her lovely body seemed a +crystal lamp through which shone the light of an eager soul. + +A minute of this silent suspense, and the lady in the blue-gray cloak +came in, followed by the two red-haired maids carrying such valued +possessions as no hotel porter must be allowed to touch: little +handbags, gold monogrammed; a long coat of blue Russian fox; +silk-covered air cushions, and delicately bound books. Behind came +employes of the hotel, bearing rugs and other luggage; but the big man +who had helped the lady from the car did not appear. We had seen his +back only, yet the impression lingered in my mind that he was no +servant, but a gentleman, a personage of worldly as well as physical +magnitude. + +The lady went toward the desk, then paused, and with an imperious and +impatient little gesture directed one of her maids to untie her thick +blue veil. The knot was loosened with a skilful touch, and the face of +Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald was revealed. For a moment or two we saw it +only in profile, as she talked with the people at the desk, and bade the +elder of her two women write in the visitors' book. Then, as she turned +away to go to the lift, we were favoured with the full blaze of her +celebrated beauty. + +It is three years since I saw her last, in America, but she has not +changed, unless to look younger. She might not be a day over +twenty-five, and her figure is as slender, as spirited, and as graceful +as a girl's. She advanced more or less in our direction, though without +seeing us, and her walk was peculiarly attractive--slightly +self-conscious and suggestive of the actress, perhaps, but light as a +smoke wreath. If she makes up off the stage, she is so skilful that she +beats Nature at Nature's own game. Her complexion, with the gray-blue +veil flowing in folds on either side her face, looked pearly, and the +rippling lines of her red hair glittered like new copper. It was +impossible she should not know that every one in the big hall was gazing +at her; but such was her self-control, gained in long experience as a +beauty and popular favourite, that she seemed not to see any one. Hers +was not a morose remoteness, however. That might have offended admirers +and kept money out of the theatre. It was the radiant unawareness of a +passing sunbeam. + +A few more seconds and this charming figure, framed in floating clouds +of chiffon, would have reached the door of the lift, to be wafted out of +sight like a pantomime fairy. But Barrie could no longer be held within +bounds, for the great moment of her life had come. She darted away from +us, her figure as tall, more youthful, more willowy, and more charming +than the other, though singularly like in movement and in outline. The +resemblance between the beautiful woman and the beautiful girl produced +the effect of contrast, and ruthlessly dug a chasm of years between +them. Suddenly, as they stood face to face, Mrs. Bal--who had been young +as morning--reached the rich maturity of summer noon. + +The thing Somerled would have prevented had happened; but the reins were +out of his hands, and it would do more harm than good to snatch at them. +None of us moved, but we were nearer than any one else to the mother and +daughter, near enough to hear every word they said to each other. + +"Oh, mother, it's I--your daughter Barrie, come to find you," the girl +faltered. "You know--Barribel. You named me. I've run away from +Grandma----" + +"My goodness--_gracious_!" gasped Mrs. Bal, her brown eyes immense. In +her groping bewilderment, her blank amaze, she looked younger again, her +rather full face very round, almost childish, her dimples deepening in +the peachy flush of her cheeks. She stared at Barrie as if the girl were +a doll come alive--an extremely complicated, elaborate, embarrassing +doll, copied from herself and let loose upon the world. And Barrie did +not take her eyes from the beautiful, surprised face for an instant. In +her wistful suspense she scarcely breathed. "Oh, do love me--do be glad +to see me!" her soul implored through its wide-open windows. + +The silence, falling after Mrs. Bal's astonished gasp, lasted but an +instant, though it seemed long to us who waited. To others at a +distance, others who knew nothing of the story, whose sight and hearing +were not morbidly sharpened, the little scene probably meant no more +than a surprise meeting between the well-known actress and a very pretty +girl enough like her to be a sister. But to us who did know the +story--and something of Mrs. Bal--the pause was like the pause in court +while the jury is absent. + +Mrs. Bal was thinking, observing, making up her mind. Suddenly she broke +out laughing--a nervous, yet impish laugh, and seized the girl by both +hands. At the same time she bent forward--not down, for Barrie is as +tall as she--kissed the girl on both cheeks, and whispered something. + +It was a brief whisper. She could have said no more than half a dozen +words, but they stupefied Barrie. She threw back her head, almost as if +to avoid a blow. Tears sprang to her eyes, and she pressed her lips +together in a spasmodic effort at self-control. The bright rose-red of +excitement was drained from her face; but she did not draw away from her +mother, who still held the girl's hands. All she did was to turn her +head with a bird-like quickness and fling one glance at Somerled. + +I don't know whether or not she meant it as a call. Probably she didn't +herself know what she meant. Only, she was in need of help, of comfort, +and involuntarily turned to the strongest, most dependable personality +in her small world. I would have given all my faculty as a writer--my +dearest possession--to have been in Somerled's place--to have had her +appealing to me while her air-castle crumbled. + +He went to her at once, and spoke to Mrs. Bal, who had not seen him till +that instant. She blushed slightly at sight of him, I noticed; and I +wondered whether she had flirted, or tried to flirt, in the past with +the artist-millionaire. It was impossible to guess whether she were +pleased or displeased, but evidently his appearance on the scene was +ruffling in one way or another to the lady's emotions. "This is a +surprise!" I heard her say, in a softer, fuller tone than she had had +time to put into her first sharp exclamation at sight of Barrie. + +Then both voices dropped. The two talked together while the girl stood +by in silence, pale and expectant, depending on Somerled. Mrs. Bal said +something which made Somerled laugh--one of his cynical laughs, such as +I hadn't heard from him lately. Not once had he looked at Barrie. All +his attention was for the mother. She asked a question. Answering it, he +indicated Mrs. James and me. + +"Oh, please introduce them!" Mrs. Bal commanded pleasantly. + +This was a signal for us to approach. + +"Mr. Basil Norman," she said. "You are the author, of course. How nice +to meet you! Of course I read your books. And your sister who +collaborates--where is she?" + +"I don't know yet whether she's arrived or not," I explained. "I meant +to ask at the desk----" + +"I want to know her. Please tell her so. And this is Mrs. James. Why, +yes, of course! I remember you--in the days of my captivity." She +laughed a childlike, impish laugh. (Barrie has one rather like it, but +more spontaneous, less effective.) "You haven't changed." + +"Oh, thank you, dear Mrs. MacDonald," exclaimed the little woman, +radiant with pleasure--for I've found out that her two great desires are +to keep her youthful looks, and to be intellectually worthy of the +vanished doctor. "I'm sure _you_ are not in the _least_ altered, though +it must be seventeen years----" + +"Oh, my dear Mrs. James, don't--_please_ don't!" cried Mrs. Bal, +laughing and dimpling, and holding up both gloved hands in mock prayer. +"Don't mention the number of years. This is getting to be simply awful. +Shock after shock!" She laughed again, glancing roguishly at Barrie. "I +want you all to come to my sitting-room--this very minute--to hold a +council of war. It's most necessary. You dear, pretty child"--this +adorably to her daughter--"how much more mischief have you done already? +How many people have you let into the ghastly secret?" + +Barrie hung her head, and looked down. She must have known that +sympathetic eyes were on her, and have wished to avoid them. "There's +only Mrs. West and--and--I suppose her friends the Vannecks--and Mr. +Douglas--a Lieutenant Douglas----" + +"Horror! Their name is legion. What a scrape. Well, I must appeal to +their mercy. Please come up with me, everybody, and we'll talk it over +and see what's to be done. There isn't a moment to lose." + +By this time I began to guess what she was driving at, though the dazed +expression of Mrs. James told me that she was still in the dark. + +We got into the lift and were shot up to the next floor, nothing being +said on the way except a conventional word or two about the motoring +weather. "I came in a friend's car--I'll tell you all about it," Mrs. +Bal added as she led the way to her rooms. + +The two maids had arrived on the scene already. Doors were open; luggage +was being taken in under the direction of the red-haired ones; but in +the large sitting-room there was no sign of confusion. Quantities of +flowers adorned it, in tall glass vases and gilded baskets tied with +ribbons. Signed photographs of royalties and generals and judges, the +latest aviators and successful explorers, all in monogrammed silver +frames, were scattered on mantel and tables and piano-top. There were +plump cushions of old brocade on the several sofas and lounges. The +largest table had a strip of rare Persian embroidery laid across it, and +was graced rather than laden with novels, boxes of sweets, and silver +bonbonnières. Evidently the maid who had come in advance had had her +hands full! + +"I must have pretty things to give me a home feeling. Touring would be +too horrid without that," she laughed. (Mrs. Bal laughs often in private +life; what clever woman with dimples does not?) "Now, sit down, and let +us discuss this desperate situation. But first--come here, Barribel. I +want to look at you." + +Barrie came. Mrs. Bal caught the girl's hands, and held her out at arm's +length. + +"You pretty creature!" she exclaimed. "Oh!" and she threw an appeal to +us. "To think I should be the mother of THAT! Isn't it simply appalling? +But I can't be, you know. I can't be her _mother_. Now _can_ I? I've +told her already--I had to decide in a flash. I admire her immensely, +and we're going to be fond of each other and the greatest chums. But we +must be _sisters_." + +Then I knew what she had whispered to make Barrie start and blanch. She +had said, "I won't be your mother." And Barrie had turned involuntarily +to Somerled because she had felt herself unwanted and her heart was +breaking. + +All this was preparing me for a career of villainy, though I must say in +self-defence that it was Aline who lit the match. "The woman tempted me, +and I did eat!" + +"Come and sit by me, lovely doll," said Mrs. Bal, pulling the girl down +beside her on the most cushiony and comfortable sofa. "So you are the +baby! I haven't forgotten you. I've thought of you a _lot_--really a +lot. But you never seemed _mine_, you know. _They_ wouldn't let me feel +you belonged to me. They were so good! Of course I had to leave you +for--for them to take care of. They thought they knew everything about +babies. I dare say they were right. I _had_ to escape. I couldn't have +lived with them another day, in that awful house. But I've been oh, _so_ +proper, and good, really. Even they could have hardly been shocked. And +I've hired three red-haired watch-dogs. But it isn't only myself I want +to talk about--it's you. I do think you're the prettiest thing I ever +saw--though I oughtn't to say so, perhaps, because I believe we're +alike. Aren't we, Somerled?" + +"In some ways, not in others," dryly returned the gentleman addressed. + +"Oh, I know the differences are in her favour--Diogenes! All the more +reason why I can't possibly own her for a daughter. My yearly profits +would go down a hundred per cent. And although she's perfectly +_darling_, and I'm going to love her--as a sister--she couldn't have +come to me at a worse moment." + +"Oh--why?" pleaded Barrie, speaking for the first time. + +"Because--you may as well hear this, all of you, since I've called you +to a council of war. I want you to realize"--and she gave each of us a +look in turn: a lovely, characteristic "Mrs. Bal" look--"that I'm on my +knees to you. I've thrown myself on your mercy. You've got to help me +out. The truth is"--she began taking off her gloves and looking down at +her own hands, her rings sparkling as the pink and white fingers were +bared--"the truth is, I'm a little--a tiny little bit--tired of acting. +I'd like to leave the stage in a blaze of glory while everybody wants me +and there's no one to take my place. There's only one trouble--I'm so +horribly extravagant. I always have been. I'm afraid I always shall be. +I make heaps of money, but I can't save. If I say good-bye to the +theatre, I shall want millions. I don't feel I can rub along on less. So +that means--I shall have to marry somebody else's millions, for I +haven't got the ghost of one of my own." + +As she explained her position she looked deliberately past Somerled and +out at the window. This made me sure that a vague suspicion of mine was +founded on fact. Mrs. Bal had angled for Somerled, and he had been one +of her few failures. She couldn't be pleased at encountering him again +as her daughter's self-appointed guardian and champion. It seemed to me +that the situation complicated itself, to Somerled's disadvantage; +therefore--it might be--to the advantage of the next nearest man, +myself. + +"There is some one," Mrs. Bal went on, with a slight but lessening +constraint, "who--rather likes me, and I rather like him--better than I +can remember liking anybody. He's got lots of money. His name is Morgan +Bennett. Somerled--you know him." + +"Yes," said Somerled. "I thought his back looked familiar." + +So the big fellow who helped Mrs. Bal out of the blue car (also big, in +proportion to the size of the owner and his fortune) was Morgan P. +Bennett of New York, the Tin Trust millionaire. Somerled's puny horde of +millions dwindle into humble insignificance beside Morgan Bennett's +pile. If Somerled has made two millions out of his mines and successful +speculations, and a few extra thousands out of his pictures, M. P. +Bennett has made twenty millions out of tin--and unlimited cheek. He is +so big that his pet name in Wall Street used to be "The Little Tin +Soldier." + +"He has been--dangling lately," Mrs. Bal went on. "Oh, nothing settled! +I confess I wish it were. I mean to take him if he asks me, and I think +he will. You wouldn't believe it, but he's a shy man with women. I do +believe he's frightened to propose. He's bought a house in London, in my +favourite square. And now he's taken a shooting-lodge in +Forfarshire--such an amusing place: a huge round house with as many eyes +as in a peacock's tail, all staring cheerfully, and high chimneys +grouped together like bundles of asparagus. I've just been staying there +with his sister, Mrs. Payne, whom I believe he imported from America on +purpose to play gooseberry. You know--or perhaps you don't--I tried my +new play for the first time in Dundee, just one night, and it went +gorgeously. This house of his isn't far off, and I was motored back and +forth for rehearsals and so on, while the company stayed in town. I +simply fell in love with the place; and he's trying to buy it--to please +me, I _hope_. There's a round porter's lodge and a round garage: and the +round house stands on a round lawn with a round road running round it +like a belt, so that it all seems the centre of a round world with the +sun moving round it. He brought me from there to Edinburgh to-day, and +two of my maids in another car. He won't stop here in the same hotel +with me, of course, but he'll drop in now and then--naturally--and he's +taken his box at the theatre for the whole week. We must arrange this +sister business before he calls. I've confessed to him that I'm +twenty-nine, and it's perfectly true. I've been twenty-nine for several +years. But he'd hardly believe me so old. And what _should_ I do--I ask +you all--if a grown-up--oh, but an extremely grown-up--daughter suddenly +loomed over my horizon? Even if I put back her clock to fifteen instead +of--never mind!--I couldn't manage to be less than thirty-one, and that +with the greatest difficulty. Now you see how I am placed." + +"Shall I go away and--and save you all the bother?" asked Barrie, in a +very small voice. + +"Oh, no, no, dear child; nothing of the sort, of course," protested Mrs. +Bal, patting the hands which Barrie held tightly clasped together in her +lap. "You mustn't be naughty and misunderstand. I don't want to lose you +like that, now you've taken all the trouble to find me--with the help of +our good Somerled. But--will you be a sister to me?--as popular men have +to say in Leap Year." + +"I'll do whatever you want me to do," Barrie answered in the same little +voice, like that of a chidden child. "Am I--would you like me to stay +with you here, or----" + +"Why, I suppose"--Mrs. Bal showed that she was startled--"I suppose we +must fix up a place for you--for a few days. But I don't see how you can +go with me on tour. It wouldn't be good for you at all. The best way is +for us to have a nice little visit together, and get acquainted with +each other, and then perhaps I'd better send you to--er--to my flat in +London, or--to boarding-school, or somewhere. I _quite_ understand you +wouldn't go back to your grandmother at any price, would you?" + +"I'd rather do that than be a trouble to you," said Barrie. "Only, I +don't think she'd take me back. But I could try----" + +"Certainly Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald won't hear of your going back to +live in Carlisle, I'm sure," said Somerled, looking somehow formidable +to reckon with as his eyes met Mrs. Bal's. Then, to the girl's mother: +"I am connected with her father's family in a way, you know, and I took +advantage of the connection to make Mrs. MacDonald's acquaintance at +Hillard House, after I'd met--her granddaughter. The arrangement between +us was that I should play guardian _pro tem_. So if you want any advice +about--Miss MacDonald's future, perhaps you'll be good enough to let me +help you." + +"Thanks, oh, thanks! I accept gratefully," replied Mrs. Bal, who had no +doubt already heard downstairs some few words explaining Barrie's +presence with our party in Scotland. "And you'll tell everybody she's my +sister, won't you?" + +"I'll not say anything to the contrary," he promised grimly. + +"And you, Mr. Norman? You, dear Mrs. James?" + +"I'll protect the secret with my life," said I, laughing. If I were a +woman, I should have been hysterical by this time. + +"I'll keep my mouth shut," replied Mrs. James, with pitying eyes that +said to the girl, "If _I_ were your mother, dear child, young as I like +to look, I'd be _proud_ to own you!" + +"What about your American victims?" I inquired of Barrie. + +Mrs. Bal pricked up her ears. "What victims?" she asked before her +daughter had time to speak. + +"Four young men who have prostrated themselves under Miss MacDonald's +chariot," I explained. "All who see her do this." In adding the little +tribute I meant well; but I saw in an instant that I'd been tactless. +Mrs. Bal regarded the girl reflectively; and that uncomfortable faculty +I have for reading people's thoughts told me she was repeating to +herself, "Ah, so all the men who see this child fall in love with her, +do they? H'm!" + +"They--I never talked to them about--about having a--mother," Barrie +stammered. + +"And this Mr. Douglas?" Mrs. Bal asked. "Is he too a 'victim?'" + +"He appears to be something of the sort," I was obliged to answer, as +she appealed to me. "The Douglas Heart, you know! And he has a cousin +with whom he's staying----" + +"Oh, do, dear Mr. Norman, like an angel of mercy 'square' them for me, +will you, and all the others who know?" Mrs. Bal implored, +ostentatiously ignoring Somerled, who had too evidently gone over to the +younger generation. "Your sister, too--and her friends? Will you go and +see if they have come, and if they have, bring them here--or plead my +cause eloquently, or something?" + +"I'll go at once," I agreed, rising. On principle, I disliked and +despised the gorgeous, selfish creature; but there was that in me which +longed to please her, and delighted in being chosen as her defender, +over the head of Somerled, so to speak. I was not sorry to escape from +the scene which Barrie's pale face and o'er-bright eyes made very +trying; also I was really anxious to find out if Aline had come. If she +had not, I should begin to worry about her and the poor old car--to say +nothing of the tribe of Vanneck. + +As I went out, I heard Mrs. Bal exclaim, "Oh, by the way, if she's to be +my sister, she can't be a MacDonald, She'll have to take the name of +Ballantree. It was my maiden name, you know." + +A disagreeable surprise awaited me outside. I learned that, while we'd +been out after luncheon, my sister and the Vannecks had come, but that +Aline had had a mishap. She'd been wearing a motor-mask veil, according +to her custom, in order to protect her complexion. The talc front over +her face had been damaged in the morning's storm, and somehow her eyes +were injured. I should have received the news sooner had I gone to the +desk instead of following Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald upstairs. + +Off I hurried to Aline's room, where I found Mrs. Vanneck with my +sister, and an oculist whom George had hurried out to fetch. The poor +girl was suffering, and a good deal frightened, though we tried to +console her. As she went to the window to be examined by the specialist, +I could see that her face and hair and lilac silk blouse were covered +with a powder of talc, which sparkled like diamond dust. Her eyes and +lids were full of the stuff, it proved, and she cried with nervousness +and pain as the oculist proceeded to get it all out. + +It was impossible to speak to her of Barrie and Mrs. Ballantree +MacDonald, but I told Maud Vanneck, who, though mildly horrified, +promised for herself and her brothers that the secret should not be +revealed. + +When I returned to Mrs. Bal's sitting-room, I found Somerled and Mrs. +James gone. Barrie was alone with her newly found--sister, and a more +forlorn little figure than our young goddess it would be hard to +imagine. Andromeda chained to her rock could not have looked more +dismally deserted by her friends. A room had been taken for her, and she +was now transformed into Miss Barribel Ballantree. "What a good thing I +wouldn't let her be called Barbara after me," said Mrs. Bal. "We should +have had to change her whole name, and that would have been _really_ +awkward!" + +I should have retired at once, when my errand was done, but Mrs. Bal +would not let me go. I think, for one thing, she wasn't at ease with +Barrie alone; and for another, she wanted to see if I too were a victim +of this young person who might perhaps turn out a formidable rival as +well as an inconvenient daughter. Barrie evidently wished me to stay; +and I made no effort to conceal my real feeling for the girl from either +of them. I thought that now was the time to let myself go. Barrie was +inwardly yearning for comfort and love, and I opened the door of my +heart for her to see that it and all within were hers. I was on the +spot, and Somerled wasn't; so I hoped that Barrie might be thankful even +for her "brother of the pen." Mrs. Bal's bright, observant eyes saw and +understood. + +Presently she announced that she was rather tired, and would lie down, +as there would be rehearsing to-morrow in the theatre; and though she'd +opened in Dundee, she would be almost as nervous in Edinburgh as on a +first night. Her maid was rung for. The eldest and reddest one came. +Barrie and I went out together, I longing for a few words in the +corridor, or at least a friendly pressure of the hand. But I saw that +she was in no condition to be spoken to. The reaction was coming on, and +I let her go at once. She almost ran down the passage to a room not far +away, and slammed the door. + + * * * * * + +Neither Mrs. Bal nor Barrie appeared again that evening. Presumably they +had dinner together in Mrs. Bal's quarters; and the heather moon shone +as through a glass darkly for the rest of us. Aline was ordered to keep +her room for the next few days, which settled our plans--or hers, at all +events. And we were a party of men dining that night, the two Vannecks +and Somerled and I, for Mrs. James "had a headache," and Maud kept Aline +company. + +The great Somerled was reflective if not morose. I wondered what his +schemes were concerning Barrie, for I imagined uneasily that he was +working with some idea; and if I didn't mean to sit still and let him +cage the dove while it fluttered homeless and forlorn, I must come out +of my corner into the open to fight for it. + +After dinner Aline sent for me, and her message included Somerled, if he +could "spare her a few minutes." He could and did with a good grace. We +went together to the small sitting-room, which looked dull compared with +Mrs. Bal's decorated background, though George Vanneck and I had done +our best, on an Edinburgh Sunday, in the way of roses. Somerled had +forgotten to incarnate his sympathy in flower form, and I read remorse +in his eyes as they fell upon Aline, piteous and prostrate. + +Electric light was not permitted, and the room was lit only by a few +green-shaded candles which made the invalid ethereally pale. She +reclined on a sofa and wore her best tea-gown, or whatever women call +those loose classic-looking robes nowadays. It was white, and becoming. +She had built up a wall of cushions, against which she leaned, and her +hair was done in two long plaits under a fetching lace cap which gave +her a Marie Antoinette effect. This hair-arrangement interested me +scientifically, because when I breakfast with Aline in our private +sitting-room at a hotel, she often has her hair hanging down, and it has +never looked so long nor so thick as it did on this occasion. She must +have had some clever way of plumping it out. Her eyes being tender and +inflamed had temporarily lost their beauty, so she had tied over them a +folded lace handkerchief or small scarf. + +"You look like a model for a classic figure of Justice," said +Somerled--"all but your smart Paris cap." + +"Why, was Justice blind? I thought that was Love," said Maud Vanneck, +gayly airing her ignorance. I couldn't help thinking--nor could +Somerled, I'm sure--that Aline looked more like Love-in-a-mist than +stern Justice; but I feared that he had definitely ceased to regard her +from the love point of view, if ever he'd inclined to it. + +Aline, who had heard nothing yet about Mrs. Bal, was anxious for the +story. I saw that Somerled desired me to speak, but I threw the +responsibility on him. I wanted to know how he would tell the story; but +I might have guessed that he would be as laconic, as non-committal as +possible, and that, much as he might yearn to do so, he would not +criticise Barrie's mother. + +"I think she admired her daughter," he said quietly, "but being what she +is, and looking no more than twenty-five, what can one expect? Of course +the sister fraud will be found out sooner or later; but the important +thing in Mrs. Bal's mind seems to be that it shall be later." + +"Is it right for us to help her deceive poor Mr. Bennett?" asked Maud +Vanneck, who is a person of earnest convictions. + +I chuckled at hearing the big chap called "poor," perhaps for the first +time in his life; and even Somerled smiled. + +"None of us are pledging ourselves to lie for the lady," said he. "We +simply hold our tongues. If Bennett asks Mrs. Bal to be his wife, he's +not the sharp man of affairs he's supposed to be if he expects to find +her a mirror of truth. When he discovers that she has a grown-up +daughter he'll shrug his shoulders, and perhaps never even let her know +she's been found out. I'm not very well acquainted with Bennett, but +I've met him a few times, and his most agreeable social quality seems to +me his strong, rather rough sense of humour. I expect he'll see the +funny side of being hoodwinked by Mrs. Bal. And a few years more or less +on her age--what do they matter to him? He's forty-five; and on the +whole he couldn't get a wife to suit him better." + +"I have a sneaking sympathy with Mrs. Bal," confessed Aline, in her +gentlest voice. "She's conquered all of you men, and has no further fear +of you; but I feel that she's trembling in her shoes because of Maud and +me. I should love to reassure her and let her know that we're not cats." + +"Shall I take her a message?" I suggested, trying not to seem too eager. +"I'm sure she'd like to get it." + +Aline smiled indulgently. "Poor boy, doesn't he want me to say 'yes?' +It's too late this evening, I'm afraid; but call on her and Barrie early +to-morrow morning, and ask if she'd care to drop in on the poor invalid, +on her way to rehearsal. I'd better see Mrs. Bal alone. She may want to +say things she wouldn't wish Barrie to hear--don't you think so, Mr. +Somerled? And, by the way, now your little ward is--more or less--safe +in other hands, have you settled your future plans?" + +"I expect to have something mapped out to-morrow," Somerled answered. + +"You'll go on with your trip--your rest cure--I suppose, as you meant to +when we--that is, before you were saddled with all this responsibility?" + +"I've been looking forward to Edinburgh, from the first," said he, +evasively. + +Aline saw that she would get no more satisfaction, and ceased to risk +irritating him; but after her guests had bidden her good-night, she kept +me for a talk. + +Of course she made me describe the scene between Barrie and her mother, +but she was more interested to know how Somerled had looked, what he had +said and done, than in my opinion of Mrs. Bal. + +"What do _you_ think he means to do?" she appealed to me, desperately. +"Do you think he's so infatuated with Barrie that he'll offer to take +the girl off her mother's hands and marry her?" + +"I've been studying Somerled for both our sakes," I said. "What I think +is, he's been telling himself the girl is too young and all that, and +ought to have a chance to meet a lot of other men. Yet he's seen how she +unconsciously attracts every male creature who comes along, and that +it's a danger for her if----" + +"_Unconsciously_ attracts! But I forgot, you're infatuated too. And she +_doesn't_ attract everybody. George Vanneck hardly considers her pretty. +He can't bear this rising generation of long-legged young colts, he +says; and he calls her hair carrots." + +"We'll cross George off the list. It's long enough without him, and +increasing with leaps and bounds. There'll probably be more names on it +by to-morrow night" (evidently I have a prophetic soul). "But to go back +to Somerled. Of course he foresaw something of what happened to-day: but +Barrie's face when Mrs. Bal suggested being a sister to her was enough +to turn a man of marble into a man of fire; and I don't think Somerled's +resolutions up to that point were as hard even as sandstone. He must see +now, as I do, that there'll be no place for the poor child with her +mother, whether Mrs. Bal marries a millionaire or goes gayly on with her +career as an actress. What is to become of a girl like Barrie, left to +her own devices, with every man--well, let's say every _second_ man--who +passes, stopping to flirt if not to propose? My fear is that Somerled's +resolutions are turning round the other way, and that he's contemplating +himself as permanent guardian--if Barrie'll take him." + +"Take him! She'll snap at him. She shows her feelings in the most +disgusting way. Oh, my _dear_ boy! I apologize. But I have feelings +too--as you know only too well." + +"I'm afraid she _is_ getting to like him," I said, "but I persuade +myself, anyhow, that she's more in love with love in general than with +Somerled in particular. She's under the influence of the heather moon." + +"I'm not going to let her have Somerled!" Aline cried out sharply. "I +can't bear it. Can you?" + +"I'm an idiot about the girl," I admitted. "I get worse every day. The +more flies that collect round the honey the more I want it myself. I +didn't know I was that sort of person, but I am. The worst of it is, she +calls me her brother, which is fatal." + +"No, it isn't. It shan't be," said Aline. "I shall get her for you." + +"Thank you very much," said I. + +"I'm not joking. An idea is on its way to me. I've been seeing it dimly +for days, but its success depended a good deal on Mrs. Bal. Now, her +being afraid of me makes it easier. I can't lie here idle, with all this +going on--yet I can't let _him_ see me as I am. My eyes look hideous. +They're pink, like an albino's. Otherwise I wouldn't listen to the +oculist. But I must do something. I begin to see what I _can_ do, if +you'll go on helping me and yourself, and not be a fool." + +"I won't be more of a fool than Nature made me," I assured her, "though +I may be a fool to love that girl." + +"No, for you can make her care. Of course you can. She's hardly more +than a child." + +"You were married at eighteen," I reminded my sister. "At least you +always tell people you were." + +"If you were a woman, you'd be a thorough cat! It's true--I wasn't much +more, but _I_ was mature in mind. I'd seen the world. Barrie MacDonald +will make you happy. You'll play together all your lives, and she can +take my place, helping you to write stories. It will be quite a romance +for the newspapers. And when she's out of sight, out of mind with Ian +Somerled, he'll realize that she wasn't the right one. He'll come back +to me, and see that I was always meant for him." + +"A woman's instinct is often right. Also many a heart is caught in the +rebound," said I, falling back on proverbs. And in this way, with the +talc that entered Aline's eyes, malice entered our hearts. Thus we took +up our parts of (alleged) villain and villainess. + + * * * * * + +Next morning, as early as I dared, I sent to ask if I might give Mrs. +Ballantree MacDonald a message from my sister. Word came back that she +would see me at once. Five minutes later I was knocking at the door of +her sitting-room, and, obeying her "Come in," found myself in the +presence of a Vision. She was in one of those tea-gown arrangements like +Aline's, only more so. She had a cap which, I fear, would have made +Aline's look, as they expressively say on the other side, "like thirty +cents." And if Morgan P. Bennett had seen the beautiful Barbara then, he +would have proposed without hesitating another second. That is, he would +have done so if Barrie hadn't come in before he began. She did come +while I was giving Aline's message to Mrs. Bal, and though she looked as +if she hadn't slept, to me she was more lovable than ever. I tried to +convince myself that Aline was right; that this girl and I were made for +each other; that, if I could take her away from Somerled, she and I were +bound to be happy together forever after. + +Mrs. Bal explained that she was later than usual because she had not had +a good night, and her chief maid, in reality a trained nurse, had been +giving her electric massage. + +"Now I feel equal," she added, "to tackling the world, the flesh, _et le +diable_. Mrs. West is the world. Morgan Bennett's the _flesh_(he weighs +two hundred pounds!) and--I shall be the devil. I always am at a +rehearsal. But the mood shan't come on while I'm with your sister. Now I +must go and get dressed. I'll not be fifteen minutes. Really! You don't +know what I can do in the flying line, when I choose. You may stay and +amuse--my little sister." + +I knew better than to ask questions. If the girl wanted sympathy she +could find it in my eyes, but she would resent pity. I praised Mrs. Bal, +and found that I'd struck the right note. + +"Yes!" Barrie exclaimed. "Isn't mother--I mean Barbara--gloriously +beautiful? She wants me to call her Barbara, and I shall love it. I +shall love to do whatever she wants me to do, I'm sure, because she's +such a darling. Everybody must want to do what she wants them to do, +whether it's right or wrong--though she wouldn't want anything she +_thought_ wrong, of course. Just fancy, she's given me heaps of pretty +things. I begged her not, but she would make me take them--a string of +pearls, and this ring--my very first!" (How I wish that I had put her +"very first" ring--or kiss--on the finger she displayed!) "And two +bangles--and she's going to pay back Sir S.--I mean Mr. Somerled" (so +she has her own name for him!)--"the money he lent me for my father's +brooch. Barbara doesn't want the brooch. I'm to keep it. And she says +she'll give me an allowance--but she expects Grandma to leave me +everything in her will. _I_ don't--and I'd rather not, though +moth----Barbara thinks I shall some day be quite well off. I fancied we +were very poor, but Barbara says Grandma must have got back nearly all +that was lost, by saving." + +I guess that the girl was making talk to show me how well satisfied she +was with everything; but whenever she met my eyes she looked away, to +interest herself in some photograph or ornament. + +In less than the promised fifteen minutes Mrs. Bal appeared again, very +lovely and ridiculously young in a short blue serge dress, with a turned +down collar that showed her firm white throat. I was allowed to remain +with Barrie while "Barbara" went up to see my sister; and the ice being +broken between us, we chatted comfortably of everyday things, I +unreasonably happy because I had got in ahead of Somerled for once. It +began to seem like a game of chess between us; I--directed by +Aline--playing against Somerled. If Aline upstairs were at this minute +making the move she planned, it would be check to his queen, Barrie of +course being queen. + +The only questions I ventured to ask the girl, and those in a casual +way, were, "Had she heard from or seen Somerled since yesterday +afternoon? And what was the programme for her, during this week of the +new play in Edinburgh?" + +Her answers were that she had neither seen nor heard from Somerled, and +that she didn't know what she was to do during the week. She hoped to +see something of Edinburgh. She supposed we--and Mr. Somerled--would +soon be leaving for the west or north. But she had written Mr. Douglas, +by Barbara's request, and he was very nice. He might be counted on to +show her things. He was invited to call this afternoon with his cousin. +Jack Morrison had written asking to come too, and Barbara said that he +might do so--bringing his three friends. She--Barrie--must be very, very +careful always to say "Barbara" and never--the _other_. She could +_quite_ understand now how the darling felt, though it had seemed queer +at first. + +By and by Mrs. Bal returned, and I saw by the light in her eyes and the +colour on her cheeks that the conversation with Aline had been +interesting. Hardly had she arrived and begun demanding from her various +maids various things wanted at the theatre, when Somerled sent up to beg +a moment's talk with her. + +"Tell the gentleman I shall be delighted," she said to the hotel +servant: and I saw that she was smiling the impish smile which Barrie +has inherited. + +"So glad you came before I got away!" she exclaimed, shaking hands with +Somerled. "Five minutes more and I should have missed you. I'm due at +the theatre now. The poor wretches are rehearsing without me, but I must +turn up for a scene, at eleven!" + +"I won't keep you five minutes," said Somerled, quietly. "I only want to +ask if you'll let Barrie--provided she'd like it--" he glanced at the +girl, whose eyes brightened--"take a few excursions with her friend Mrs. +James and me, in my car this week. You'll be busy and----" + +"I should have been delighted, and I'm sure Barrie would," broke in Mrs. +Bal, "but you're just too late. A new thing for you, isn't it? I've been +having the most charming visit with Mrs. West, who is better, but must +keep to her rooms for two or three days. Her car will be eating its head +off unless it's used, and I've promised that her friends the +Vannecks--such _nice_ people! I met them in Mrs. West's +sitting-room--and Mr. Norman shall have Barrie for--probably--the very +excursions you have in mind. Too bad! But first come, first served! +You've all been so good to this girl, one hardly knows how to choose +between you. But I thought Mrs. James was going home at once? I +understood from Barrie that she said so last night?" + +"She has decided to stay until the little surprise I'm trying to arrange +for her, comes off--or on. She doesn't know what it is, but she pays me +the compliment of taking it on trust. She'll be disappointed at having +to give up the motor runs she was looking forward to with Barrie." + +"You've plenty of old friends in Edinburgh, I'm sure," suggested Mrs. +Bal, "and you can make up a party to console dear Mrs. James for the +loss of Barrie." + +"I don't believe Mrs. James can be induced to take any excursions +without Barrie," said Somerled: which meant that he didn't intend to +leave Edinburgh while the girl was in it and at the mercy of her erratic +parent. I thought he was anxious Barrie should understand that he was +not going to desert her. Perhaps she did understand, for she is quick in +penetration; but her own pride, and loyalty to Mrs. Bal, kept her from +showing that she felt need of protection, or even that she supposed +Somerled to be offering it. She did show, however, that it grieved her +to refuse his invitation. She took the "tip" he gave and put it all upon +Mrs. James: how sorry she was not to do any more sight-seeing with dear +Mrs. James. But I knew that the name in her heart was not the name on +her tongue. + +Aline had scored. I wanted to know just how, and how far, but I +determined not to leave Barrie with Somerled. I needn't have worried, +however, for Mrs. Bal and I had the same thought. She asked if Barrie +would like to go to the theatre with her and watch a rehearsal. +Naturally, Barrie said yes, and Somerled and I saw them off in the +smaller of the two motor-cars which Morgan Bennett had placed at Mrs. +Bal's service for the Edinburgh week. As for Bennett himself, he was +apparently "lying low," by her wish or his own; but I expected to see +him at the theatre that night. Of course, we were all going to turn out +in full force for "The Nelly Affair." Somerled had taken a box, he told +me, and proceeded to invite the whole party; but there also Aline had +got in ahead. During Mrs. Bal's call upon her, they had arranged that +the Vannecks and I should sit with Barrie in stalls offered by the Star. +Mrs. Bal had (she assured us fluently, before starting off in her car) +intended asking Somerled and Mrs. James too, and stalls were provided +for them. But as he had already engaged a box, she would give the seats +to the two Douglases. Perhaps he--Somerled--would have room in his box +for those nice American boys, of whom Barrie seemed so fond? + +Aline was eagerly waiting for me to come back and congratulate her upon +her great success. She wanted to tell me everything; but her desire to +talk was nothing compared with my yearning to hear. + +"It's all right," she began. "I've made a bargain with Mrs. Bal. I told +her you were in love with Barrie. That's the way I broke the ice, after +I'd paid her compliments and she'd sympathized about my eyes. I said I'd +keep her secret, and answer for the Vannecks, if she'd give you a chance +with Barrie." + +"By Jove!" I grumbled. "You didn't mince matters between you! Anything +said about Somerled?" + +"Why, I told her that the child was fancying herself in love with Ian, +and behaving rather foolishly. And I said that Ian was naturally +flattered, but that he was the last man to marry a baby like Barrie; and +if we didn't act quickly, the poor little girl might suffer. You must +have noticed, Basil, that Mrs. Bal doesn't like Ian Somerled." + +"I've noticed that she takes an impish delight in thwarting him." + +"That's because he once thwarted her. She admitted as much. Or, at least +she said she asked him to paint her portrait, and he did paint it. When +the picture was finished, he gave it to her, and didn't even make +himself a copy." + +"Well," I replied, puzzled, "I don't see anything in that to upset her. +Even for a beauty like Mrs. Bal it's a compliment to be painted by +Somerled. And surely it was a mark of regard to make her a present of +the picture, when he can get from a thousand to five thousand pounds for +anything he chooses to do." + +"Oh, you _man_," exclaimed Aline. "And you pretend to be a student of +women's characters! Of course Mrs. Bal was furious because he didn't beg +to do her portrait and then make two, one for her, and one for himself. +Fancy my having to explain! And besides, there must have been more than +that in the affair. She wouldn't have asked him to paint the picture if +she hadn't wanted to see him often alone, and make him fall in love with +her. His giving her the portrait was a kind of defiance, to show her +that he didn't care _that_ for the original." + +"Oh, well, if you think so!" said I. + +"Mrs. Bal thinks so. And she's enchanted to get her revenge. Not that +she'd have chosen this way, because, of course, it's a sickening thing +to have Ian and all these men know that she's old enough to be the +mother of a grown-up daughter--and to be obliged to throw herself on +their mercy to help her out of the scrape. She laughs and pretends it's +a joke, but she simply _hates_ it. I hinted to her that if you married +the girl there'd be no talk ever about Barrie being Mrs. Ballantree +MacDonald's daughter. That should be _forgotten_, I said, though they +could correspond with each other and be good friends. Barrie would live +in Canada with you, and be out of Mrs. Bal's life altogether. And I +impressed it upon her that your ideal existence was a quiet country +place. It was the same as telling her that she'd be _rid_ of Barrie by +giving her to you. Whereas, if the girl should marry Ian, Somerled's +wife would always be before the public eye, and everybody would be sure +to find out all about her. Mrs. Bal caught my meaning, you may be sure; +and she promised me that Barrie should go everywhere with us, or rather, +with you and the Vannecks, till I can get about. Anyhow, _nowhere_ with +Ian. Now, you see, I've done all I can for you." + +"And for yourself," I was mean enough to add, for the thought of what we +were doing together was not a good thought, and it brought out the worst +of me. + +"I haven't any one to work for my interests. _You_ have," she retorted; +and as I'd no mind for further recrimination I begged her pardon, +thanked her gratefully, and proceeded to tell all that had happened in +Mrs. Bal's room. It was not pleasant for Aline to hear how prompt +Somerled had been in trying to relieve Mrs. Bal of her burden; but there +was consolation in his disappointment. + +"Do I look very horrid?" she questioned anxiously, "or do you think I +might ask him to take pity on me for a little while this afternoon, and +sit here when you're all out sight-seeing?" + +I reassured her, saying that her eyes looked no worse than if she'd been +indulging in a "good cry." She decided, however, that if Somerled came +she would bandage them again and continue to resemble Justice. I didn't +ruffle her feelings by remarking that morally the resemblance would be a +parody. + +When Maud Vanneck and I went, soon after luncheon, to ask if Barrie +would walk in Princes Street, with perhaps a stroll along the High +Street, and on to Holyrood or the Castle, I found Mrs. James in Mrs. +Bal's sitting-room with the two Douglases and the four Americans. The +mother and daughter had returned late from rehearsal, and had just +finished luncheon. Mrs. Bal had a letter in her hand, which had +evidently arrived with a box of orchids, probably a tribute from +Bennett; and the lady's desire to get us out of the way suggested the +imminent arrival of a caller worth keeping to herself. + +Finally, it was arranged that we should all go out together, the +Douglases assuring the rest of us that they could open doors which would +be shut to strangers. + +"Where's Somerled?" I asked Mrs. James, in case he were condescending to +lie in wait somewhere. + +"When I saw him last," she replied, "he'd got an immense pile of foreign +letters, and several cablegrams. It looked as if he'd enough to occupy +him the whole afternoon. Important business I suppose; yet in spite of +all, I believe he's been concerning himself with some surprise for me. +He may perhaps have news I shall like to hear when I get back. I expect +he's been telling some friend about those Stuart chairs I want to sell, +and thinks he's got me a buyer." + +The Douglases took us to see the _Scotsman_ building, and the secret, +inner workings of a great newspaper. We descended from marble halls to +vast underground regions, the lair of a monster immeasurably more +powerful than the Minotaur who ramped and raved under the Palace of +Crete. The roar of this modern Minotaur was as the noise of Niagara +broken by stormy bursts of thunder. It stunned the intelligence; it +shrivelled the organs of speech like a dried kernel rattling impotently +in an old nutshell. It filled the world and made human happenings, such +as individual lives and deaths, seem of no more importance than the +snapping of thumb and finger in front of a cataract. I couldn't have +lived in the tumult long and kept my wits; but we heard of an employé +who, when some tooth or nail in the enormous monster smote him, could +not bear to stop away long enough to complete his cure, because he was +unable to bear the "awful stillness" of the hospital. Persons of +impregnable nerve-power let us deeper and deeper into the bowels of the +earth, showing us the dragon's brood, and his terrible wife whose +business it is not only to print the newspaper, but to cut its sheets, +and eventually to lay them like eggs, at the rate of thousands a minute: +a most appalling creature she, who so battered my brain with her +accomplishments and the wild cackle she made over them, that weakly I +let Barrie be snatched from me by Donald Douglas. + +In the roar and rush and riot I was incapable of caring, though vaguely +I recalled the fact that I had come out with the sole object of annexing +the girl's society. Vaguely too, though only vaguely, I resented the +Douglas method; but I had my revenge almost before I recovered sense +enough to want it. There came, I know not why or how (perhaps one of the +masters decreed it, to strike our ears with the contrast), a sudden +unexpected lull. It was only a comparative lull, and it lasted no more +than a few seconds; but there was time enough to hear Douglas yell into +Barrie's ear, "I must have you for my own." + +The next instant he was purple through his soldier-tan. He knew the +dragon and the dragon's wicked wife had betrayed him, as he took +advantage of their domestic clamour to speak in a crowd as though he +were alone with his love in the desert. What Barrie answered, or if she +had breath to answer, none of us could guess, though all, especially the +four Americans, were bursting with anxiety to know. Later, however, when +we went up to the Castle (anything but the Castle, with its thousand +years of history, would have been an anticlimax after that wonderful +dragon cave), Donald Douglas walked meekly with his cousin, leaving +Barrie to Jack Morrison. As for me, I had temporarily lost my +individuality, and with that roar still echoing through my brain, +vibrating through my nerves, I was glad to crawl along, talking to +nobody, and picking up dropped or untied bits of myself as I went. For +the moment, frankly I didn't care how many men proposed to Barrie, or +whether she accepted them all. But afterward, it was different. It +occurred to me that Jack Morrison was not only a handsome and gallant +fellow, but said to be very rich, at least as rich as Somerled, and ten +years younger. Aline and I might be mistaken about the girl's feelings +for Ian. Very likely it was no more than a romantic sort of gratitude; +and though I absolved the child from the smallest taint of mercenary +motive, it was almost impossible that a sleepless night had not given +her some wise counsel. She was too sensitive and quick-witted a girl, I +reflected, not to have seen that she could not go on living with her +mother, and that it was a necessity to find a niche somewhere. All these +young men saw this also, though they knew no more than the fact that +they were prayed to consider Mrs. Bal an elder sister of "Miss +Ballantree," therefore they were hastening to offer her sheltering +niches, more or less desirable. In other circumstances, they would have +waited a few days, long enough at least for Barrie to know which was +which, and get their features and some of their characteristics ticketed +with the right labels; but as it was, each saw he had no time to waste +if he didn't want his friend or foe to get in ahead of him. While we +were at the Castle, looking at Mons Meg (which recalled Thrieve) and the +banqueting-hall of armour with its faded banners and fadeless memories; +gaping at the mysterious place over the entrance door where, in a +bricked-up alcove, a baby skeleton was found wrapped in cloth of gold +embroidered with a royal monogram; walking through the wainscoted room +where Mary of Guise died; gazing at the long mislaid crown of Bruce +("the Honours of Scotland"); seeing sweet Queen Margaret's Chapel where +the Black Rood lay till it went in state down the hill to make Holyrood +holy; peering at the wall-stairway down which the Douglas boys were +dragged after the "black dinner"; admiring the kilted soldiers; and +drinking in the view over hill and valley and mountains, towns and +nestling villages, the vast, colourful checkerboard of beautiful Mary +Stuart's journeys, flights and fightings: while beholding treasures and +splendours which are as the red drops of Scotland's heart's blood, man +after man took his place at Barrie's side and became her cicerone. Each +talked with her awhile, and after a few brief minutes allowed a change +of partners, the discarded one humbly retiring to Mrs. James's side. It +was really funny; or at least so it seemed until enough self-assertion +came back to admit of my entering the lists. Then I promptly lost my +sense of humour, and had no wish to look for it. I wanted only to look +at Barrie, who was unusually flushed and bright of eye. + +By this time there wasn't much left to tell her about the Castle or the +Castle Rock. When I began to work off my erudition by mentioning the +name of Edwin, for whom Edinburgh was named, and who made it a royal +borough in the eleventh century, she said: + +"Oh, Mr. Douglas's cousin, the other Douglas, told me that!" + +When I related the tale of that gallant Francis who was able to lead Sir +Thomas Randolph and thirty soldiers up the perilous rocks to surprise +the Castle at night, having learned the way when sweethearting down in +the Grass-market, Barrie confessed that she had heard the story already. +Jack Morrison had found it in some old book he had bought at the shop +under John Knox's house, in the High Street. There was no use trying to +work up or classify historic thrills for her in this vast heart of +Scotland; she had been given them all, with generous additional thrills +from private hearts, Scottish and American. + +"Has every single one of those chaps proposed to you?" I flung the +question in her face. "You might tell your Mentor." + +"Oh, not Donald Douglas's cousin!" she answered hastily. "He's engaged +to some one in the Highlands." + +"Good heavens, then all the rest _have_ done it, in a bunch!" + +"I think you're _horrid_!" she said indignantly. "I've always heard that +girls don't tell such things to any one." + +"They do to their brothers--of the pen, if they have any such. Besides, +you don't need to tell. I'm a regular Sherlock Holmes where people +I--like, are concerned, and I know what's been happening to you this +afternoon. A manna-rain of proposals, in the wilderness of Edinburgh +Castle. Many girls would have accepted them all, and then sorted them +out to see which they liked best; but I have a shrewd idea from the look +of the gentlemen's backs that they are now one and all your adopted +brethren." + +"It's almost wicked to joke on such a subject," Barrie reproached me, +trying not to laugh, "and it's not nice of you to make fun of them, just +because you consider yourself superior, as an author who is always +analyzing people's minds and motives. It's not as if they were so much +in love with me that they had to propose in a hurry for their own sakes. +It's not that _at all_; but only because they thought it wouldn't be +very convenient for--Barbara to have me live with her, travelling about +so much, or if she should marry. So they felt as if something ought to +be _done_ for me, you know, as soon as possible." + +"Sainted, unselfish young men!" I murmured. "But I don't consider myself +superior, as it happens. I'd do the same thing in a minute if I thought +there were the faintest chance of your giving me an answer different +from theirs. Is there?" + +"Don't talk nonsense!" she exclaimed. "But of course, I'm happy to say, +I know you don't mean it." + +"Well, if you're happy to say that, I'll leave you your fond illusions +for the present," I returned. "But, as girl to man, tell me; don't you +rather like being proposed to?" + +"It's very exciting," she admitted. "I never expected, somehow, that +such a thing could happen to me." + +"Oh, didn't you? Why not?" + +"Well, there's my red hair, which I always thought was _fatal_, until I +saw my mother's portrait--and heard Mr. Somerled say he liked painting +red-haired women." + +"Red hair _can_ be fatal, though not in the way you appear to mean," +said I. "Which thrilled you more, the Castle or the proposals?" + +"Oh, the Castle, of course!" she answered scornfully. "After the first +one or two, they seemed like interruptions." + +All five of my rivals (there might have been six, had it not been for +the girl in the Highlands) having had their medicine, I was allowed +almost as much as I wanted of Barrie's society during the walk down from +the Castle Rock, and to Holyrood. Together she and I walked through that +most romantic royal house of all the world; and long as I may live, +never shall I forget those hours. Chestnut-tressed Mary herself could +not have been lovelier than the red-haired girl who walked beside me, +and when the royal beauty came on a day of chill, northern haar, to her +Scottish realm, she was only a year older than this child we all love +but think too young for love. Yet already, at nineteen, Mary was a +King's widow, and had been Queen of France. + +It was of Barrie's romance, Barrie's future, I thought most, as we +wandered side by side through the haunted rooms where Mary danced and +loved and suffered, where her grandson Charles I of England came, and +left his ruby Coronation ring for remembrance, and where Prince Charlie, +her far-off descendant, made hearts flutter at the great ball given in +his honour. But it was the past which had all Barrie's thoughts, unless +she sent a few to the man who had stayed at home reading his letters, +instead of following in her train. + +We looked at Queen Mary's bed with its tattered splendour of brocade: +the box filled with relics of her short reign in Holyrood: her neat +embroideries, her tear bottle, and Darnley's glove, which Barrie thought +Mary would not like to have kept with the other things: and then, having +saved the best for the last, I took the girl up to the little +supper-room where Rizzio was murdered. Barrie gazed at everything in +silence: and now we could both be silent when we liked, for the +chastened ones had meekly trooped off to show Mrs. James the Abbey, or +Royal Chapel, where Mary and Darnley were married, and where a hundred +things had happened, things connected with others whose romances were as +poignant if less well remembered here, than hers. + +We had come up the secret stairway in the wall, because I wanted Barrie +to miss no thrill this place could give; but it was not the thought of +the murder-scene which most caught her imagination. She listened to my +dramatic version of the tragedy of the room, and of the dark closet +where Rizzio tried to hide, and shuddered a little; but soon she was +drawn, as if beckoned by an unseen hand, to the bevelled mirror with +scalloped edge, which Mary brought with her to Scotland from France, a +dim oval full of memories, may be, of dear, dead days at Amboise and +Chenonceaux. + +"What does that poor piece of blurred glass make you think of so +intently?" I asked, when Barrie had stood silently staring down the +veiled vista of mystery for many minutes. "You look like a young modern +Cassandra, crystal gazing." + +"So I am!" the girl almost whispered. "I'm trying to see something in +the mirror--the things _she_ saw in it--or to see her eyes looking into +mine. If anything can be haunted, it is this mirror. Think of what has +passed before it. But do you know, I don't believe it has ever really +intelligently seen anything since the day Queen Mary went away from +Holyrood. I feel she ran here, to take one last look into her mirror, +and to bid it farewell as she bade farewell to France, gazing and gazing +as the land faded from her sight forever. Then, when she'd gone, the +glass she loved grew dim as it is now, and _blind_ because it could no +longer give back the brightness of her eyes. There's nothing left in it +now but sad dreams and memories of the past." + +"Did you ever," I asked, "go down into the cellar at midnight on All +Hallow E'en with a candle and a mirror and wish to see the face of your +future husband?" + +"No, indeed," Barrie answered emphatically; "we had no such tricks at +Hillard House." + +"Now, in this mirror, if any in the world, you might be able to see such +a vision, not only at midnight, but on an ordinary afternoon, like this +for instance," said I. "Suppose you stop thinking of Queen Mary for a +minute and concentrate on yourself. Wish with all your heart for the +face of the man you'll love, the man you'll marry, to appear under this +clouded surface of glass." + +Barrie looked somewhat impressed by my mysterious tone as well as the +overwhelming romance of her surroundings. She put her face close to the +mirror, and I was about to profit by the situation I'd led up to when +some one stepped between us and looked over the girl's shoulder. It was +Somerled, who must have come in just in time to overhear my advice, and +take advantage of it for himself. But he could not wholly blot me out of +the mirror. Both our faces were there, to be seen by Barrie, "as in a +glass darkly." She gave a little cry of surprise, and wheeled round to +smile at Somerled. + +"You came after all!" she exclaimed, forgetting or pretending to forget +the solemn rite which had engaged us. But I must admit I was in a mood +to be almost superstitious about it. I had prophesied to the girl that +she would see reflected the face of the man she was destined to love and +marry. An instant later she had seen two faces, Somerled's and mine. +Would she love one man, and marry the other? Or would only one of these +two men count in her life? + +Perhaps Queen Mary's mirror knew. It looked capable of knowing--and +keeping--any secret of the human heart. + + * * * * * + +That night--oh, my prophetic soul!--Morgan Bennett saw Barrie at the +theatre, and looked at her through his opera-glasses almost as often as +he looked at Mrs. Bal in her gay, exciting comedy-drama, "The Nelly +Affair." The play had been written for the actress and suited her +exactly. In fact its whole success was made by her magnetic personality, +her beauty, and her dresses. She scarcely left the stage, and had +something to do or say every minute, yet I noticed that she found +opportunities to observe where Bennett's eyes were straying. As for +Barrie, she saw nothing, heard nothing, thought of nothing, but her +mother, glorious Barbara, who for this evening was Nelly Blake, a girl +of eighteen, seeming not a day older. Barrie, in a white dress, with her +hair in two long braids (Mrs. Bal thought she was too young to wear it +done up), sat among us in an ecstasy. Was ever any one so beautiful, so +clever, so altogether marvellous as darling Barbara? This was as it +should be; and we who knew the girl, knowing that she had never before +seen a play, nor the inside of a theatre, thought her pathetic; but +Morgan Bennett, who did not know her, merely thought her pretty and +wondered how he could get to know her. The very flash of his +opera-glasses was interested and eager; and when I proudly took the girl +behind the scenes to compliment Mrs. Bal after the first act, I was far +from surprised to see Bennett appear almost immediately in the same +mystic region. Barrie and I were with Barbara in a little room which she +intended to use as a boudoir for the week of her engagement; and when an +employé of the theatre announced Mr. Bennett, she looked annoyed. For an +instant she hesitated visibly; but as he was probably aware that she had +visitors, there was no good excuse for sending him away. Part of Mrs. +Bal's success with men consists in knowing what kind of snubs they will +meekly endure from a lovely spoiled woman, what kind they neither forget +nor forgive. She sent word to Mr. Bennett that he might come in. + +He accepted the invitation promptly, and Barbara, with quick presence of +mind, introduced him to her little "sister Barribel." + +"Barribel! That's a pretty name," he said, shaking hands with Barrie, +his eyes on her face. "Miss Barribel Ballantree, I suppose." + +"You may suppose so!" returned Mrs. Bal, laughing. + +"I saw this young lady sitting out in front," he went on, instead of +congratulating the actress at once on the success of the first act, +which had "gone" splendidly with the large audience. "I said to myself +there must be a relationship between you two: and I was wondering." + +"Well, you needn't bother to wonder any more," broke in Mrs. Bal, very +gay but slightly shrill. "I must have spoken to you about Barrie?" + +"'Barrie' is what you call her?" said he, smiling at the girl. "That's a +very nice pet name, and suits her, somehow. You surely never spoke of +your sister to me. I shouldn't have forgotten." He added the last words +with a look intended as a compliment for Barrie; and any woman wishing +to monopolize his attention exclusively might have been pardoned for +thinking that he had looked at her more than often enough in the +circumstances. In his big way he is attractive, to certain types of +women, very attractive indeed, and I could understand that his millions +might not be his only charm for Mrs. Bal. He has eyes which can be +fierce as an eagle's; the strong, almost cruel jaw of the predestined +millionaire who will mount to success at any cost; a pleasure-loving +mouth, and--when he is pleased--a boyish smile. When he is severely +displeased, I shouldn't care to be there to see him, especially if he +were displeased with me. But I suspect Mrs. Bal to be one of those women +who could not love a man unless she were afraid of him. In that may have +lain the secret of Somerled's former fascination for her, if it existed. + +"If I've forgotten to mention Barrie, it's because I'm always talking +about _you_, when we're together," Mrs. Bal excused herself with dainty +impertinence of the sort Bennett will stand from her. "If it isn't about +you, it's about your motors--or some affair of yours." + +"I thought you, and _your_ affairs were generally the subject of our +conversations," retorted the big man, still looking more at the young +girl than at the woman. "Miss Ballantree is your affair----" + +"She has only just become so," Barbara hurried to explain. "Her +grandmother, who thoroughly disapproves of me and all actresses, has +kept the child shut up in a moated grange all her life. It's a wonder I +didn't forget her existence! She _had_ begun to seem like a sort of +dream-sister, until she suddenly dropped in on me yesterday, and +announced that she'd run away from home. I'm simply enchanted to have +the darling with me, for my own sake, or I should be if I hadn't such a +beautiful, unselfish nature that I find I worry myself into fits about +her when she's out of my sight. To-night I couldn't half act, because I +was thinking about her all the time, and wondering what on earth I could +do to make her happy. I foresee I shan't be able to study or rehearse or +anything, while she's getting into mischief in a big hotel. I shall send +her away though to-morrow, for a few days, with some _very_ dear friends +of hers, who will give her a good time until I settle down and feel at +home with this new play--in which, by the way, you don't seem to take +the _slightest_ interest. You haven't said a word about it, or how it +went, or how I acted." + +"You know better than that----" Bennett was beginning when Barrie (to +whom, despite his size, he was a figure of no importance) broke in +without being aware that he was speaking. + +"Oh, Barbara, you won't make me go _to-morrow_; You promised----" + +"If she promised, we must make her stick to her promise," said Bennett, +forgiving the interruption, and perhaps willing to tease Mrs. Bal. + +The beautiful Barbara, however, had gathered together her scattered +wits, and was too wise to show that she was being teased. "I know, I +meant to keep you with me this Edinburgh week anyhow," she answered the +girl. "But, sweetest, you won't want to hold me to the promise, no +matter what Mr. Bennett or any one else says, if I tell you that I'm +worrying over your being here? I don't feel it's the right thing for +you. And it's certain Grandma will change her will if she hears you're +living with me. It's a miracle I didn't dry up in my part to-night from +sheer anxiety and absent-mindedness. You'd hate me to _fail_ through +you, dear one, I know." + +"Oh, yes--anything but that," Barrie exclaimed, tears in her eyes. + +Alas, if only some other name than that of M. P. Bennett had added +itself to her list of admirers, all might have been well for Barrie with +sister Barbara, at least for a little while! As it was, the girl's fate +was sealed. So much the better for me: yet my fool of a heart ached for +her disappointment, instead of leaping for joy at my own good luck. + +Mrs. Bal looked at the girl with an odd expression on her charming face, +painted for the stage. There was compunction, if not remorse, in the big +brown eyes, but there was no relenting. She liked Barrie and enjoyed her +childish adoration, but she loved herself, and she wanted to "land" +Morgan Bennett. The girl would have to be sacrificed; still, those +rising tears gave Barbara pain to see. She would really have been glad +to make Barrie happy, if the creature's youth and beauty had not been an +hourly peril for her. + +"Don't look so disconsolate, dear," she said. "You're going to have a +glorious time. And if wet eyelashes are a compliment to me, they're just +the opposite to Mr. Norman." + +"Is it Mr. Norman the novelist?" Bennett wanted to know. + +"Yes. And he's going to let Barrie help him with a story--or else he's +putting her into one, I'm not quite sure which." + +Barbara threw him this bit of information with a sweetly casual air, but +it was one of the cleverest things she ever did, on the stage or off. +Somehow, with a smile that flashed over us all with a special meaning +for each--affection for Barrie, a benediction for me, and a secret +understanding for Bennett--she contrived to convey to him the idea that +her little sister was already bespoken. No use his being led away by +rosebud innocence! It was engaged, and if he were wise he would be true +to his love for the full-blown rose. + +"Just think, pet, what an honour to be taken about by such famous people +as Basil Norman and Aline West," she went on, "and to have them for your +best friends. You'd have had a horrid dull time with them gone, for I +should have had to leave you alone a lot. And next week, when they bring +you back to me at Glasgow, your future will be all beautifully +arranged." + +"But Mrs. West isn't well enough to go to-morrow----" Barrie pleaded. + +"No. But Mrs. Vanneck will chaperon you for a few days. You ought to be +frightfully happy, seeing Scotland with those you love while your poor +Barbara works for her daily bread. And now you must go out in front +again with Mr. Norman, if you don't want to miss the beginning of the +second act. Mr. Bennett has seen it, so he can stop with me five minutes +if he likes, till my call." + +Barrie had been at rehearsal, and would no doubt have been quite willing +to miss any part of the play not graced by Mrs. Bal's presence on the +stage; but short as was the time since she made her mother's +acquaintance, she had learned to know the lady well enough to realize +when she was not wanted. She went with me like a lamb resigned to the +slaughter; and so, I was sure, would she start with us next day. But +just here, I think, is the place to write down what had meanwhile +happened to Mrs. James. If it hadn't been for that happening, perhaps we +should not, after all, have snatched the girl away so easily from +Somerled. And the funny thing was--for it had its funny side, as even he +must have seen--the funny thing was, that all was his own fault. When he +planned that wonderful surprise for Mrs. James, he little thought it +would be the means of stealing his trump card from him. Generous he may +be, and is, I must admit; but it's not likely that he would have been +unselfish enough to put himself in a hole for Mrs. James's happiness, +especially as he could have got just as much credit from Barrie by +waiting a few weeks--say, until the end of the "heather moon." + +To have brought in the "surprise" in its proper order, I should have +worked it into my notes between our sight-seeing expedition in the +afternoon, and the theatre in the evening, for it was common property by +that time. We all knew (from Mrs. James, not from himself), what a noble, +magnificent, wonderful, glorious, altogether pluperfect fellow Somerled +was, to have interested himself in her behalf, and to have given her +such happiness as all her friends had thought her mad to dream of +through the dreary years. + +Always, it seems, she believed that her husband, who disappeared +seventeen years ago, was alive, and only waiting for success to crown +his ambitions, before returning to her. Everybody else thought he had +drowned himself, because of some professional trouble. But Mrs. James's +faith has been the great romance of her life; and Barrie (or the little +woman herself, I don't know which) told Somerled the story the day they +left Carlisle in his car. Some details caught his attention, and made +him wonder if Mrs. James's instinct were not more right than other +people's reason. + +When Somerled went to America as a boy, he travelled in the steerage. On +board the same ship was a man calling himself James Richard, a man of +something over thirty, in whom Somerled became interested. They made +friends, though they gave each other no intimate confidences; and James +Richard made one or two remarks which suggested that he had been a +doctor. Evidently he was a man of culture, interested in many things, +including chemistry and Scottish history. After landing in New York the +two met occasionally by appointment, and the older man spoke of an +invention which, if he could get the help of some millionaire to perfect +it, ought to make his fame and fortune, and revolutionize anaesthetics; +but Somerled had thought little of this at the time. So many men he met +in those days had queer fads by means of which they hoped to achieve +glory. Soon, even before he himself reached success, Somerled and James +Richard drifted apart. The rising artist forgot the ship-acquaintance +with whom, owing to the difference in their ages and interests, he had +never had more than casual acquaintance. It was not until he heard the +story of Mrs. James's husband, the clever doctor who loved Scottish +history and had invented a new anaesthetic just before disappearing +seventeen years ago, that he remembered his shipmate, James Richard. +Then he recalled his appearance; and the descriptions tallied. A scar on +the forehead was a distinguishing mark with the man supposed to have +drowned himself and the man who had travelled to America in the +steerage. Somerled cabled at once to New York, instructing a firm of +private detectives to trace James Richard, an Englishman, probably a +doctor, who had landed in New York from a certain ship on a certain +date. + +The first reply was not very encouraging. The man had left New York many +years ago, and no one knew where he had gone. But the next cablegram +brought news that James Richard, or some one answering to the name and +description had been tracked to Chicago. There he had practised as a +doctor with some success, but had fallen seriously ill, had given up his +business, and had again disappeared. The detective "on the job" was +going to Colorado to look for him, as the climate of that state had been +recommended to Richard by a fellow practitioner. + +On the Monday morning after our arrival in Edinburgh, a third message +had come. This announced that the doctor had left Colorado and gone to +California, where he was now living at Riverside, with a rising +practice; but that he was considered a "crank," because he constantly +besieged rich men to start a laboratory in which to work out his +theories. Two or three had half promised their help, but for some reason +or other the financial schemes had fallen through. Still the man never +appeared to lose hope. Having received this news, Somerled wired direct +to the doctor, offering him as much money as he needed, if, before +anything further was settled, he would come over to Scotland and reveal +himself to his wife. + +Up to this time, Somerled had said nothing to Mrs. James, except that he +hoped to give her a pleasant surprise; and told her even this only +because she planned to go back to Carlisle, now that Barrie was with her +mother. Naturally Somerled had several important reasons for wishing the +little woman to stay; but the one, he alleged, was his desire to see +what she thought of the "surprise" when it came. + +He, of course, must have had visions of keeping this useful queen of +spades up his sleeve, that he might be ready to trump one of our knavish +tricks with her, at any moment; but the gods fought against him for +once. Just before theatre-time, arrived a long cablegram from James +Richard, alias Richard James. He thanked Somerled enthusiastically (Mrs. +James showed the message to me, and to every one of us), accepted his +loan, believing that eventually it could be repaid, and was more than +happy to hear news of his wife, whom he had left only for her own good, +because at that tune he considered himself disgraced and ruined. He had +intended suicide, but the thought of his invention had changed his mind +and plans at the last moment. He had gone to the new world to find what +the old had denied him, and after a hundred disappointments he was to be +rewarded, through Somerled. He asked now for nothing better than to +return, but only for long enough to see his wife, and take her back to +California with him. To his deep regret, however, he could not start at +once, as he had broken his leg and would not be able to travel for +several weeks at least. Would she come to him as soon as she could +settle her affairs? + +I imagine Somerled must have been sorely tempted not to show this +message, for it would rob him of Mrs. James and leave him where he had +been after his quarrel with Aline, minus a chaperon for Barrie, if he +could contrive to snatch the girl from Mrs. Bal. But he had said too +much about the "surprise" to suppress developments now. Besides, it +would have been almost inhuman to delay the meeting of the husband and +wife, so long parted. Neither would have forgiven him if he had coolly +kept them apart for his own convenience; but so grateful, so adoring to +her hero was Mrs. James, that if "the doctor" had not been ill and +needing her, I think of her own free will she would have offered to stop +in Edinburgh for a few days to "see what happened." As it was, there was +no question of her staying. She and Somerled arranged that she should +leave for Carlisle by the first train possible in the morning. At home +she was to settle her few affairs temporarily, and catch a quick ship +for New York, whence she would hurry on to California. + +Somerled gave her advice for the journey (and perhaps something more +substantial), but he must have seen that, though virtue might be its own +reward, he was unlikely to get any other. Mrs. Bal had lent Barrie to +us, and without a woman to aid and abet him, it seemed to me that he was +powerless. Such chaperons as Mrs. James don't grow on blackberry bushes +even in Scotland, where blackberries, if not gooseberries, are the best +in the world. Somerled had done for himself. + +Oh, there was no doubt of it this time! Not only had we, in the game of +chess we were quietly playing with him, got his little white queen in +check; we had swept her off the board. + + * * * * * + +Happenings began thick and fast the morning after. + +The first thing I heard was, from Aline, that at the theatre last night +(probably just after she sent us away) Mrs. Bal had told Morgan Bennett +in so many words that Barrie was practically engaged to me. After a +week's trip in my society it was to be expected that she would arrive in +Glasgow to ask her elder sister's blessing. + +This, Aline thought, necessitated our getting off at once, lest Bennett +should contrive to meet the girl alone somehow, and question her. If he +did this, the "fat would be in the fire" for Mrs. Bal, and perhaps for +me too. + +"The sooner the better," said I; for I was impatient to spirit the girl +away from Somerled, and turn her thoughts from him to me. If I prayed to +the heather moon for help, I felt that I ought to succeed; for the man +who can have a girl of eighteen to himself (not counting a few chaperons +lying about loose) in a motor-car for a week, passing through the +loveliest country in the world, and can't make her forget for his sake +some other fellow she's known only a few hours longer, must be a born +duffer. This I dinned into my consciousness. + +It was to be my first real chance with Barrie; and though never in my +life before have I made serious love to any flesh-and-blood girl, I've +made so much with my pen to the most difficult and diverse heroines, +that I had a certain belief in my own powers, once they had free play. + +The second thing that happened this morning of happenings, however, was +a slight setback, just enough of a setback to let me see that the +heather moon is a goddess who exacts more wooing from her votaries than +I had given. Or else, that she has her favourites, and is more ready to +look with a kindly eye on a man born to the heather than one who comes +from afar to write it up. + +Barrie, it appeared, had had a "scene" with Barbara. She had insisted +with tears and (according to Mrs. Bal) stampings of foot, that she +_would_ go to the Waverley station with Mrs. James and see her off for +Carlisle. + +Mrs. James was to be taken to the train by Somerled, in his car; and as +no one but Barrie had been invited, this meant that the girl would +return with him alone. To be sure, it would not take five minutes for +the Gray Dragon to slip from the Waverley end of Princes Street back to +the Caledonian. On the other hand, it was evident that Mrs. James must +have a special reason for choosing the Waverley station, when she could +just as well have gone from our own; and Aline and I could see only one. +Somerled wanted to snatch five minutes alone with Barrie; and he was not +the man to waste a single one of the five. The question was, what use +did he intend to make of his time? None of us could guess, for Somerled +is a puzzle too hard to read. Not even Aline (who was so nervous that, +figuratively speaking, she started at every sound in the enemy's camp) +believed that Somerled would try to run away with the girl. I soothed +her by saying that I thought it very doubtful whether Somerled would ask +the girl to marry him, even if everything were in his favour. I still +tried to believe that in his opinion she was too young and had seen too +little of life to settle down as a married woman. He might be in love +with her--to me it was beginning to seem impossible that a man could +know her and not be in love--but with a strong, self-controlled man of +Somerled's calibre, falling in love and marrying need not be the same +thing. + +Mrs. Bal, after the "scene" (in which she too, apparently, played a +stormy part) had angrily consented to give Barrie her own way, but only +on the girl's threat to decline making the trip with us, if thwarted. +Something in Barrie's eyes had warned the lady not to go too far, and on +her promise to return directly Mrs. James had gone, Mrs. Bal sulkily +waived her objections. + +"Why don't you, too, see Mrs. James off?" suggested Aline. "You've been +great friends. She ought to be complimented. And you might take her some +flowers. That would please Barrie, who is now worshipping Ian as a tin +saint on wheels because he has found Mrs. James's husband and offered to +finance him to success. You ought to do _something_." + +I thought this a good idea, and on the top of it had one of my own, +which I didn't mention to Aline, lest it should fail. Not only did I buy +flowers, the prettiest and most expensive I could find (worthy of Barrie +or Mrs. Bal), but a box of sweets, another of Scotch shortbread, a few +cairngorm brooches, and amethyst and silver thistles picked up at +random, and a copy of Aline's and my last book which I found (well +displayed) on the station book-stall. When Aline sees only one copy she +will not buy it, as she thinks it a pity the book should disappear from +public view; but this was an occasion of importance, and I didn't +hesitate to pluck the last fruit from the bough. + +When Mrs. James, Barrie, and Somerled arrived (Vedder being left in +charge of the car) there was I waiting, laden with offerings. I stuck to +the party till the end, waving my farewell as the train slowly moved +out, and then I summoned up courage (or impudence, depending on the +point of view) to ask if Somerled would take me back. "I walked here," I +said, "so as to do my little shopping for Mrs. James, and I came so fast +I've hardly got my breath back." + +I was prepared for some excuse to keep me out of the car; but I wronged +Somerled. If any one looked disappointed it was Barrie, not he. He said, +"Certainly; with pleasure," and there was nothing in his voice to +contradict the courtesy of his words. + +Thus, with surprising ease, I robbed him of the five minutes alone with +Barrie which he had planned. And though she sat in front with him--as +she had come, perhaps--and I was alone in my glory behind, they could +have no private conversation. + +When I went up to bid Aline good-bye (we were starting soon for +Linlithgow and Stirling), I told her of my small triumph; but it gave +her no great pleasure. + +"How do we know what he said to the girl going to the train?" she asked +suspiciously. "If there's anything up, it's certain that James woman is +in it. I'm sure she's warned Ian against you and me as well as Mrs. Bal. +She's as shrewd as a gimlet in her own funny way. You've remarked that +yourself. And she worships Ian, and thinks Barrie a little angel +abandoned in a wicked world. So if Ian wanted to talk, he wouldn't mind +Mrs. James. You'd better keep your eyes open this week, and notice +whether the girl seems dreamy and absent-minded, as if she expected +something to happen--something they may have arranged between them this +morning." + +I assured Aline that I needed no urging to keep my eyes on Barrie. She +then told me for the second time that she intended joining our party as +soon as Somerled left Edinburgh to follow us, as--she thought--he surely +would. "He wouldn't have gone a step while that girl was here with Mrs. +Bal," she exclaimed, almost fiercely, "but in spite of all he's said +about seeing old landmarks and looking up old friends, he'll be off +after you when you've taken Barrie away. Anyhow, I'm going to see +something of him while he's here if I can, for we are friends! He's +supposed to have forgiven me, and he can't refuse to come and cheer up +the invalid. I shall do the very best I can for myself--and when I find +he means to be off I shall mention casually, as a kind of coincidence, +that I'm going too, the same day, to join you; that you've wired or +something, and that Maud Vanneck and her husband have accepted an +invitation from Morgan Bennett to visit his sister, at that Round House +Mrs. Bal talked of. Perhaps Ian will offer to take me with him. I do +hope so. But I can't ask." + +As a matter of fact, poor Aline had racked her brains how to dispose of +the married Vannecks when she should be ready to take her place in +Blunderbore. As for George, she wished to keep and play with him, of +course, partly for her own amusement, partly for the moral effect upon +Somerled; but she didn't want to offend his brother and sister-in-law. +Still, they had to be got rid of eventually, as Blunderbore, with all +the faults of Noah's ark, has not the ark's accommodation for man and +beast. It was a happy thought to angle for an invitation, through Mrs. +Bal, for a few days at the Round House, as Maud Vanneck particularly +desired to see "Scottish life in a private family"; and it didn't occur +to her that a shooting-lodge hired by an American millionaire would not +be the ideal way of accomplishing her object. + +Mrs. Bal was not out of her room when we were ready to start, at eleven, +so I did not see her again; but the plainest, oldest, and carrotiest of +the three red-headed maids primly accompanied Barrie to the hotel door +with hand-luggage. By this time Blunderbore was puffing heavily in +feigned eagerness to be off, and Salomon, its owner and chauffeur, +shabby and sulky as usual, was giving the car a few last oily caresses +which should have been bestowed long ago in the privacy of the garage. +Have I forgotten to mention in these rambling notes that Somerled's +Vedder regards our Salomon with a silent yet plainly visible contempt, +akin to nausea? Whenever they happen to be thrown together for a few +minutes I see the smart-liveried Vedder criticizing with his mysterious +eyes the mean features of the weedy Salomon; his weak face with the +curious, splay mouth that falls far apart in speaking, almost as if the +jaw were broken; his old cloth cap, and his thin, short figure loosely +wrapped in a long, linen dust coat. Neither Aline nor I have had the +courage to remonstrate with Salomon on his get up, but when Vedder +regards him I burn with the desire to discharge the creature and his +car, despite our contract for a month. + +Barrie and I being on the spot, we could have got off, if the +Vannecks--invariably late--had not been missing. In desperation I dashed +into the hotel to look for them, and returned to find Somerled deep in +conversation with Barrie, who was in the car. I had left her standing in +the hotel doorway, with Mrs. Bal's maid: so Somerled in some way must +have caused that maid to disappear, and had then forestalled me by +helping Barrie into my car, tucking her comfortably in with the prettier +of my two rugs. + +I was just in time to hear him say "we shall meet"--but where and when +the meeting was to be, I did not know. That was the last of him for the +moment, however, as I had secured the two Vannecks, and we lumbered off +along the good, clear road to Linlithgow. Now it was "up to me" to make +my running with Barrie. + +I like driving, though in traffic I am secretly nervous; but as +Blunderbore provides no convenient perch for the chauffeur, and as +Salomon trusts no man except himself, he took the wheel, and I was free +to sit behind with my three guests. + +I'd been wondering what Barrie's mood would be, for I felt in my bones +that she was coming with us much against her will. She had not wanted to +leave Edinburgh, and I was sure that she could only have resigned +herself to doing so with Somerled and his Gray Dragon. I asked myself +whether she guessed, or whether Mrs. James had put it into her head, +that Aline and I had combined against what the girl no doubt believed to +be her "interests." I thought it not improbable that she would openly +show her distaste for the trip. As we went on, however, I began to +realize that Barrie had changed subtly in the days since meeting her +mother. She seemed suddenly to have grown up, to have become a woman. + +Was it the heart-breaking disappointment Mrs. Bal's reception had given +her? Or was it the five proposals of marriage flung at her head by those +mad young men who were now--thank goodness!--being left behind us, to +"dree their own wierds?" Or was it something quite different--something +which she and the heather moon alone knew? + +In any case, she was quiet, even dignified in her youthful way, very +polite and agreeable to the Vannecks and to me. I might have flattered +myself that she was happy enough, and glad of my society, if I hadn't +reflected that to sulk visibly would have been to blame Mrs. Bal. +Already I knew that loyalty was one of Barrie's everyday virtues. +Barbara could do no wrong! + +While the road (though good, and historic every step of the way) +remained unalluring to the eye, we chatted about Edinburgh, Barrie +rejoicing in having seen as much as she had before leaving the town. She +had browsed a little among the thrilling shops of Princes Street. With +one eye, so to speak, cocked up at the towering Castle Rock, with the +other she had scanned the gardens, Scott's monument, and everything else +worth seeing; then, with a sudden pounce, she had concentrated her gaze +on immense plate glass windows displaying Scottish jewellery, Scottish +books, Scottish cakes, and (to her) irrelevant Scottish tartans. Even +without need of them, their witching attraction had hypnotized her to +buy many of these things. + +"I don't know exactly what I shall do with them," she said; "but I'm +glad I've got them all, and I wish I had more!" + +It was Mrs. James who had been with her in her triumphal progress +through Princes Street; but it was I who had escorted her the whole +wonderful, sordid, glorious, pitiful length of the old High Street, the +Royal Mile of gorgeous ghosts. I had been there to see her face as she +caught glimpses of dark wynds where long ago men had fought to the death +and helped make history, where now colourful yet faded rags hang like +ancient banners, from iron frames, giving a fantastic likeness to side +streets of Naples: I had pointed out to her the stones which marked the +place where famous ones had murdered or been murdered, or had sought +sanctuary from murder. I had taken her all over the house of John Knox. +Together we had admired the oak carving in the room where he ate his +simple meals; and together we looked from the little window whence he +had poured his burning floods of eloquence upon the heads of the crowd +below. In the curiosity shop downstairs I had bought her a silver Heart +of Midlothian. She had stared into the rich dark shadows whence start +out, spirit-like, faces of old oil pictures, faces of old clocks, faces +of old marble busts; and she had been so charmed by the soft voice of +the young saleswoman, whose flute-like tones would lure gold from a +miser's pocket, that she would have collected half the things in the +shop if she had had the money. I wanted to give her bits of old +jewellery and miniatures of Queen Mary and Prince Charlie which she +fancied, but she would accept only the silver Heart of Midlothian, which +cost no more than a few shillings; and to-day, as I took her away from +Edinburgh, she was not wearing the little ornament, as I had hoped she +might. + +As the road grew prettier, we tore our thoughts away from Edinburgh, and +gave them to the highway illumined by history. At least, Barrie gave +hers, while I lent as many of mine as I could spare from her. And I had +to keep my wits about me, if I were to live up to the regulation of +Know-All I'd evidently attained in her eyes. + +In Linlithgow we expected to see at once the famous palace where Queen +Mary was born, but nothing was visible in what the French would call the +_place_, except the Town House, a new statue, and a graceful copy of an +old fountain. We had to turn up an unpromising side street to find at +last a beautiful little gateway between dumpy octagonal towers, such as +the old masters loved to put in the background of their pictures. +Passing through was like walking into one of those pictures, getting +round the hidden corner as one always longs to do on canvas. Before our +eyes rose majestically the colossal shell of a palace, with carved +golden walls, a vast courtyard, cyclopean round towers, and wonderful +windows full of sky and dreams. Close by was the noble church where +James IV had his vision warning him not to go to war with England. + +Somerled had talked to Barrie about Linlithgow, doubtless in the hope of +making her think of him when there. He had called it the "finest +domestic architectural ruin in all Scotland," and told her of Lord +Rosebery's suggestion to restore and make of it a great national museum. +I was glad for every reason that Somerled wasn't with us, and, for one, +because he would have overshadowed me entirely with his knowledge of +architecture, which he contrives to use picturesquely, not ponderously. +All I could do was to rhapsodize in a way Barrie likes well enough when +she can get nothing better, painting for her a rough word-picture of the +palace in days when rich gilding still glittered on the quaint wall +statues, when crystal jets spouted from the lovely fountain, green with +moss now as with thick verdigris--when knights in armour rode into the +quadrangle to be welcomed by fair ladies, while varlets led tired horses +to distant stables. Those were the days when the Livingstons were +keepers of the palace for the King, long before they lost their lands +and titles for love of Prince Charlie; days when the memory of Will +Binnock was honoured still, that "stout earle" who helped wrest +Linlithgow from English Edward's men by smuggling soldiers into the +palace precincts, concealed in a load of hay. + +We wandered almost sadly through the splendid rooms where Queen Mary +first saw the light, the week her father died: through "the King's +room," with its secret staircase under a trap door, and its view over a +blue lake where swans floated like winged water-lilies. Then, when we +had bought a specially bound copy of "Marmion" (which ought to be read +at Linlithgow), and post cards and souvenirs that seemed important at +the moment and useless afterward, we took the road to Stirling. + +There was no time to stop in Falkirk (when is there ever time to stop in +motoring?), for the car was running unusually well for Blunderbore. So +instead of pausing to meditate over battle scenes, as Vanneck pretended +he wished to do, we sailed through the long, straight street which seems +practically to constitute the town. Here we had almost our first glimpse +of industrial Scotland as opposed to picturesque Scotland, which was in +these August days becoming the playground of Britain and America. +Falkirk is a coalfield as well as a battlefield, and the murk of +collieries and iron works darkens the sky as once did the smoke of +gunpowder: but the place holds its old interest for the mind; and not +far off we came to the Wallace Monument; then to Bannockburn. Because of +Barrie's love for the Bruce, we got out and walked to the Bore Stone +where he stood to direct the battle so fatal to the English. After this +we were close to St. Ninian's, and to Stirling, though the day was still +young; but there was lots to see, and I wanted to go on before dusk, to +spend the night in Crieff. We lunched at one of those nice old-fashioned +hotels whose heraldic names alone are worth the money; and as we started +on foot to walk through the ancient town and mount to its high crown, +the Castle, I began to appreciate Aline's arrangements for my benefit. + +Maud Vanneck being a model of wifely jealousy, kept Fred to herself, and +Barrie was my companion. This was delightful. No such good thing had +come to me since making her acquaintance. On the way up the quaint, +steep street, there came a shower of rain, and I had to shelter her with +my umbrella. It was an umbrella of blessedly mean proportions, which +meant that she must keep close to my side, and I said, "Come what may I +shall have this and a few other things to remember!" + +Up in the Castle, we two decided that we had after all made a mistake in +calling Edinburgh Castle Scotland's heart. Here was that organ, and we +could almost feel it throbbing under our feet. We forgot that we had +selected several other hearts for Scotland. Here was the right one at +last! + +What a view to look out upon, with the One Girl by your side! Over our +heads and far away, clouds turned the rolling mountains to snowpeaks +that dazzled in the sun, and under our eyes seemed to lie all Scotland, +spread out like a vast brocaded mantle of many colours: the plain of the +Forth, the Ochil hills and the hills of Fife; the purple peaks round +Loch Lomond, and here and there a glitter of water like broken glass on +a floor of gold. Ten counties we could see, and eight great battlefields +which helped to make Scotland what it is. The horizon was carved in +shapes of azure--strange, wild, mountainous shapes; and the noble heads +of Ben Lomond, Ben Ledi, and Ben A'an were laurelled and jewelled for us +by memories of Scott. + +Sitting where Queen Mary sat on her velvet cushions, and looking through +her peephole in the thick stone wall, I was almost irresistibly tempted +to make love to Barrie. My heart so went out to her that it seemed she +must respond: and the Vannecks had wandered to another part of the +battlements; but she kept me to my task of cicerone. I had to answer a +dozen questions. I had to tell her about Agricola forging his chain of +forts across the narrow land between the Clyde, and the Forth "that +bridles the wild Highlander." She would be satisfied with nothing less +than the unabridged stories of Edward I's siege of this "gray bulwark of +the North," the murder of the powerful Douglas by his treacherous host +King James II; the building of and the mysterious curse upon Mar's Work, +and twenty other human documents not half so moving, had she but known +it, as the story of Basil Norman's first and only love. Once or twice I +thought she guessed that I wished to speak of myself and her, and that +she deliberately held me at arm's length, like a young person of the +world dealing with an ineligible at the end of her second season. I +almost hated King Edward, and more especially Agricola! + +Then, worst of all, before we had half finished our tour of the Castle +and its wonders, rain began to fall out of one cloud stationed directly +over our heads in the midst of a sun-bright sky. I could almost have +believed that Somerled in spite had sent it after us, like a wet +blood-hound to track us down. We took shelter in the room where the +Douglas was murdered; and who could make love against such a background? +Not I: though perhaps gay King James V might have been equal to it. One +does not hear that any ghost dogged his footsteps as he crept joyously +in disguise out from that dark little chamber into the subterranean +passage, which led the "Guid man of Ballangeich" to his Haroun +Al-raschid adventures in the night. + + * * * * * + +The next few days live in my memory as dreams live. They were beautiful. +They would have been more beautiful if I could have flattered myself +that Barrie was learning to care for me in the way she might have cared +for Somerled, if we had left them in peace. But she was always the +same--except that, as the world grew more enchanting in beauty and +poetic associations, she blossomed into a sweet expansiveness, losing +the reserve in which she had been veiled when first we started. + +It ought to have been ideal, this moving from scene to scene with the +one girl I ever wanted for my own, since I was thirteen and worshipped a +tank mermaid in green spangles. That was the hard part! It ought to have +been ideal and--it wasn't. I should think a rather well meaning Saracen +chieftain who had captured a Christian maiden might have felt somewhat +as I felt from day to day. He had got her. She couldn't escape from him +and his fortress; but, even with her hand in his, she contrived to elude +him. + +So it was with me. Old Blunderbore went well on the whole, not counting +a few minor ailments of second childhood which attacked him occasionally +when he saw a stiff hill ahead, or when he had heard me say I was in a +hurry. The Vannecks were perfection as chaperons, not through +supernatural tact and unselfishness, but because Maud feared the effect +upon Fred of too much Barrie. She laid herself out to charm her husband. +Never an "I told you so!" Never a nagging word or look. She chatted to +Fred in the car, and saw sights with him out of the car. This, she said, +was almost like a second honeymoon. But of the heather moon she had +never heard. It was ours--Barrie's and mine: yet I could not induce the +girl to speak of it. For all she would say, she might have forgotten its +existence. Always, especially when the heather moon tried to give us its +golden blessing, an invisible presence seemed to stand between us, as if +Somerled had sent his astral body to keep us apart. + +As to Somerled in the flesh, there was a mystery at this time. To me at +Perth came a telegram from Aline saying: + + "S. has left his car and chauffeur here and gone away without a + word to any one. Has he come after you? Wire immediately." + +I obeyed, replying: + + "Seen and heard nothing of S. Will let you have all news. Hope you + will do the same by me. Am sending you our route, but suppose you + will arrive in few days." + +Her answer came to St. Andrews, at a jolly, golfing sort of hotel where +I ought to have been as happy as the day was long. + + "As S. has not joined you prefer stop on here. Eyes not well yet. + Mr. Bennett's sister has influenza. She would prefer Maud and Fred + visit Round House later--say toward end of next week." + +I had no faith in that attack of influenza. The microbe was probably +hatched in conversation between Aline and Mrs. Bal, who had by this time +become tremendous allies. My theory was that Aline, knowing Somerled not +to be near Barrie, had settled down to enjoy the fleeting moment. She +might not be happy, but I could understand that the society of Mrs. Bal +(who evidently wanted her) was preferable to motoring with a brother, +and a girl of whom she was jealous. + +The same day came a long expensive wire to Barrie from her mother: + + "So sorry darling but unfortunately must put you off. Don't come + first of Glasgow week. Wait till Saturday, arriving late afternoon + or evening. Mrs. West says her friends and brother will like + keeping you till then so you needn't worry. We can have nice visit + together later and settle everything for you in some delightful + way. Making plans now. Don't forget you for a moment. Best reasons + for delay. Will explain when we meet. Sending you letter with + little present of money. Don't stint yourself. Write often. Tell me + all that interests you. Ever your loving Barbara." + +"Why do you suppose she can't have me the first of the week?" Barrie +asked piteously, when she had shown this message. + +"I can't say, I'm sure," I cautiously replied. This was literally true. +I could not say: but I could guess. And a letter from Aline which came +two or three days later, confirmed my Sherlockian deductions. + + "My DEAR OLD BOY" [she wrote]: "I was so glad to get your + telegram, and meant to have written at once, but waited on second + thoughts to have a little more news. It is a relief to know that + Ian hasn't followed that girl. Of course I feel it as much for your + sake as my own, for he is a dangerous rival to any man. It _is_ odd + where he can have gone; though he may turn up here again any day, + as he has left his car and chauffeur. If he had wanted to be nice, + he might have offered me the use of both while he was away; but I + suppose he blames me for lending myself to Mrs. Bal's wishes about + Barrie. Very unreasonable of him, as you have a perfect right to do + what you like with the car you've hired, and if Mrs. Bal didn't + want her daughter to see too much of _him_, what fault is it of + mine? + + "I try to amuse myself as well as I can and forget my worries, + however, and Mrs. Bal and Morgan Bennett are being very nice. I + don't think he's proposed yet, or she would have told me, for we're + great friends; but she's pretty sure to land him before he leaves + for America, as he is to do the end of her Glasgow week, for a + short business trip. I expect to be asked to congratulate them the + night before he sails! What a good thing for her and _every one_ + that the Vannecks can stand by you longer than we planned. I think, + unless you wire me that Ian has appeared upon the scene, I'll stay + with Mrs. Bal for her Glasgow week, as she has invited me, and + then, when the Vannecks go to the Round House, you can bring Barrie + back to her mother." + +This explained Mrs. Bal's "best of reasons." + +Days went on, and Somerled did not come to our part of the world, which +was by this time the heart of the Highlands; but I felt in my bones that +Barrie was hearing from him, writing to him; that she knew what I did +not know, the mystery of his absence. Of course I could have found out +if she were receiving letters from him, for Somerled's handwriting is +unmistakable; but villain or no villain, I had to draw the line +somewhere, and I drew it at spying upon her. + +Aline did go to Glasgow with Mrs. Bal. She wrote to tell me how, with +Morgan Bennett in his biggest motor-car, "_much_ higher powered and +smarter than poor Ian's," she and Mrs. Bal and George Vanneck had sped +away from Edinburgh on Sunday morning early, had a look at their rooms +in Glasgow, and dashed on to Arrochar, where they all stopped till +Monday afternoon. + + "Such an exquisite road!" [said Aline]. "You would have loved it. + High green bank on one side, with cataracts of bracken delicate as + maidenhair; dark rocks, wrapped in velvet moss. Trees holding up + screens of green lace between your eyes and the blue water of the + loch. Pebbles white and round as pearls, or silver coins dropped by + fairies in a big "flit." That's one of _your_ similes! Grass + running down to the edge of the water, and full of bluebells. Water + the colour of drowned wallflowers. I don't believe your Highland + lochs can be prettier or more idyllic, though this is so close to + Glasgow. + + "We have had a day going through the Kyles of Bute, too--the same + party: and a marvellous run along the shores of the Clyde to + Skelmorlie. Such red rocks there, and even the sand red. There was + a pink haze over everything, like a perpetual sunset. I'm not sure + which was better, that, or a trip to Crinan. The dearest little + place at the end of the Crinan canal--just a flower-draped hotel, + and a sea-wall and a lighthouse, with a distant murmur of + 'Corrievrechan's tortured roar,' mingled with the crying of gulls. + What a place for you and Barrie to spend your honeymoon! You see, I + speak as if it were certain. Anyhow, I'm sure it all depends on + yourself. _Courage, mon brave_!" + +But that is exactly the quality which the villain of the piece lacks at +present. + + + + +BOOK IV + +WHAT BECAME OF BARRIE + + + + +I + +Letter From Barrie Macdonald To Ian Somerled Macdonald + + DEAR SIR KNIGHT: I was glad the morning we saw Mrs. James off that + you said you'd like to hear from me, and if I needed help or + comfort in any trouble I must let you know. I haven't such an + excuse for writing to you now, but you did say that you wanted to + hear anyway, and that you'd find out where we were going, so you + could wire me your plans. Now I've had two telegrams from you, and + a letter; and if they hadn't come I should have been disappointed. + I thought we might have seen you and the Gray Dragon before this, + but the telegrams have made me understand. That is, I _don't_ + understand, because what you tell me sounds very mysterious. Still, + as you went back to Carlisle and are now in London, it is no use + hoping to see the Gray Dragon's bonnet flash into sight round some + complicated Highland corner. + + What _could_ have taken you to call on Grandma again? I am almost + dying of curiosity. You say 'perhaps you may be able to explain + when we meet': but everybody is saying that to me, just now--at + least, Barbara is, about not letting me go back to Glasgow till the + end of her week there--so it is rather aggravating. Still, it is + good to know that we may meet. I wonder when? You don't give me a + hint, and it stirs up my curiosity from deeper depths to be told, + as if you half expected me to guess what you mean, that 'you're in + London for reinforcements.' Shall I ever know? It seems a long time + since I said good-bye to you in front of the Caledonian Hotel. Not + that I'm having a dull trip. I should be very dull myself if that + were true, for everything is beautiful, and every one kind. It is + the most wonderful luck for a girl like me, who had never seen + anything in her life, suddenly to be seeing all Scotland. But I had + grown rather _used_ to seeing things with you and Mrs. James, after + I escaped from the 'glass retort,' and I can't accustom myself yet + to being with others, and you far away--Mrs. James too, of course. + I try to console myself if I feel a tiny bit homesick, thinking how + happy she is, and how wonderful everything is going to be for her + and her strange, unpractical doctor. It was splendid of you to give + him all that money. But wouldn't it have been fun if he could have + come over, instead of her going to him? Maybe, if it had turned out + so, you would be in the Highlands now. + + Do you remember how I used to say that _my_ tour under the heather + moon would soon be over, but you would be going on just as if we + had never met? Well, it has turned out quite differently, hasn't + it, for both of us? Only the heather moon is the same. But I never + talk of her now that you are gone. + + I don't want you to think I am ungrateful to _any one_, if I sign + myself, Your rather homesick little 'princess,' + + BARRIE. + + P.S.--It does not seem right to have crossed over the borderline + into our Highlands without you! + + +LETTER FROM BARRIE TO HER MOTHER + + DEAREST,DARLING BARBARA: Can it really be that it won't + bother you to have me write to you often and tell you everything + interesting that happens? You see, I might think it interesting, + and you might think it a bore. I know you are easily bored, dear, + so I am not quite sure what I ought to write. I can only tell you + about seeing places, because that is all we do. But they are so + beautiful, perhaps you may like to hear. If I write about the wrong + things, do promise that you'll speak out and tell me to stop. I + won't let my feelings be hurt. + + Basil is trying to show me as much of Scotland as he possibly can, + he says, before I 'get tired of him and Blunderbore.' That is a bad + way to put it, and so I have told him, because I should be horribly + ungrateful to tire of him. But he says he dislikes gratitude and + thinks it an overestimated virtue. + + I suppose you have often been in Scotland before, and you are not + Scottish yourself, so perhaps you can't quite feel as I do about + it. Basil, who has travelled so much, says that Scotland has in + miniature almost all the picked bits of scenery of other countries; + but they do not _appear_ to be in miniature when you're motoring + through them. They seem on an enormous scale; and each beauty spot + is different from every other. You can't help remembering and + keeping them apart in your mind, though there are so many that they + are crowded together, all over the map. I think of the map of + Scotland being purple, like heather, don't you? And if I have to + live anywhere else, I shall always be homesick for this country + now. If we are not in some fairy-like, green glen, we are in a wild + and awesome mountain pass; or else in a blue labyrinth of lochs; or + we come out upon endless, billowing moorlands; or suddenly we find + ourselves on a long road like an avenue in some great private park, + with the singing of a river in our ears. + + Poor Basil sometimes feels ashamed of Blunderbore, and certainly + it _is_ different from travelling in Mr. Somerled's Gray Dragon. + With the Dragon, spirits of the wind used to rush out of forests to + meet and dash ozone in our faces. With Blunderbore, if they come at + all, they merely spray us lazily. + + Going from Stirling to Crieff we crossed the borderline of the + Highlands. There was a park-like world round the Bridge of Allan: + and at Ardoch, the greatest Roman station left in Britain, lots of + turfed banks showing still where 26,000 Romans tried to bridle the + Northern Caledonians, the red-haired people. I'm glad they never + quite succeeded! + + Crieff was sweet, and all round it, half hidden in woods, the most + beautiful houses. But Basil had forgotten to wire, so we couldn't + get into one of the nice hotels, but stayed in a very funny one. + When Mrs. Vanneck asked for communicating rooms, the landlady said, + 'Oh, _no_, Madam, we've no such things as _that_ in _our_ house!' + + We went on to Perth early next morning, and every minute along the + road we seemed to be passing happy people who'd come to play in + Scotland: nice golfing girls and men, and men with guns over their + shoulders, or followed by gillies with fishing-tackle. I wish men + could amuse themselves, though, don't you, without killing + creatures more beautiful and happy than themselves? + + It was such a pretty road, past Methven, where, alas! the English + beat Bruce; and if I hadn't been grieved to find that by John + Knox's advice all the nicest buildings had been pulled down, I + shouldn't have felt disappointed in Perth. It is a very fine town + anyhow, with glorious trees; and the two great bridges over the Tay + are splendid if they _are_ made of iron. They look as if people had + planned them especially to give all the view there could be of the + sunset. + + Of course the 'Fair Maid's' house was the most interesting thing. + I hope it really was hers. I don't see why not. It _is_ in the old + glover's quarter. And the shrine with the crucifix and death's head + and cross-bones they found hidden in the wall of her room is too + fascinating. I could just see her praying there, so beautiful that + all the young men of Perth were in love with her. And talking of + the young men of Perth, Basil says the ball in the Games Week is + supposed to be the best show of the year--such splendid men come. I + should love to see them in the kilt, with their brown knees, like + the pipers in Edinburgh. + + St. Andrews was our next place, and we arrived the same day, for + we didn't stop in Perth after we had seen the sights there. I + wonder if you have been to St. Andrews? I know so little about you + yet, dearest. I fell in love with the place--not so much with the + links (though they must be the most beautiful as well as the most + famous in the world) as with that old ruined castle built on the + dark rocks rising out of the sea. I know I shall dream of the + awful, bottle-necked dungeon! Basil said it was the worst thing he + had ever seen except at Loches. I hope it isn't wicked to be + pleased that Cardinal Beaton, after he sat in his window to watch + Wishart burn, was soon killed, and salted, and preserved in the + same dungeon where he used to keep martyrs. The 'undergrads' of the + University looked so attractive in their red gowns, and the girl + students in their mortar boards! They were like scarlet birds, + against the gray walls and gray arches of the town. But I suppose + people in St. Andrews think even more about golf than about + learning, don't they? There were hundreds of all ages on the + links--so grave and eager: and at the hotels they _never_ know when + anybody will come in to meals. There's the cemetery, too; that + shows the importance of golf. All the 'smartest' monuments are of + famous golfers, knitted caps and clubs and everything, neatly done + in marble. But I wonder anybody ever contrives to die at St. + Andrews. I never felt such delicious air! + + Crossing the ferry for Dundee was fun. It was a very big boat, and + several other motors on it as well as ours. We sat in Blunderbore + all the way across the wide sheet of silver that was the Tay, + gazing up at the marvellous giant bridge, and then we spent several + hours in Dundee, seeing the Steeple, and Queen Mary's Orchard, and + lots of things. This was so near the Round House that I suppose the + Vannecks would have gone if it hadn't been for me. But I am the + stumbling block in everybody's way. + + Going on to Aberdeen, we ran along a fine coast dotted with ruined + castles--Dunottar for one, where the Regalia was hidden once. + + We stopped at Arbroath, which Doctor Johnson admired, to see the + great shell of an Abbey, red as dried blood; and all the old town + is built out of it, so no wonder there isn't much left but an + immense nave. But just think, Arbroath is Sir Walter Scott's + 'Fairport,' and I must read "The Antiquarian" again, all about the + caves and the secret treasure found in them. As for the treasure of + the Abbey, it is nothing less than the heart of William the Lion. + He had it nicely buried near the high altar, as long ago as the + twelfth century, wasn't it? But in 1810 they dug it up, found it + had ossified, and now they simply have it lying about in a glass + case, practically mixed up with the bones of a lady who left money + to the Abbey (she wouldn't, if she'd known what they'd do!) and the + singularly long thigh bones of a particularly wicked earl. It was + an earl who married a sister of the Lion's, and, because he was + jealous, threw her out of the window. + + We had to go through Montrose, where the great Marquis was born, + and where Sir James Douglas set sail with the Bruce's heart (what a + lot of hearts there were travelling about then!) and where now the + most curiously exciting things are the Bridie Shops. I _had_ to + know what a 'bridie' meant, so we stopped to see; but it's only a + rolled meat pasty they love in Forfarshire; and brides are supposed + to batten on them at their weddings. To please me, Basil would have + made a detour to see 'Thrums,' which is really Kerriemuir, you + know. And we should have had to pass through Forfar--the 'Witches + Har'--and go on the road that leads to mysterious, wonderful + Glamis. I was longing to do it, but Mrs. Vanneck wanted to arrive + in Aberdeen in time to do some shopping! I gave up like a lamb, + almost hating her inwardly; but afterward I felt better about it, + for the Aberdeen shops are so nice. They sell pink pearls, out of + Scottish rivers--perfect beauties. I bought you a brooch, and I do + hope you'll like it. I don't know much about such things; and of + course you have gorgeous jewellery; but this pearl is such a + wonderful colour, like snow touched with sunrise. + + My eyes and hair were full of granite by the time we got to + Aberdeen, because the road is made of it, and the dust sparkles + like diamonds. + + So does Aberdeen sparkle like diamonds. I shouldn't have thought a + city all gray like that, could be so handsome. But it is a gray + bright and silky as the wings of doves, and in some lights pale as + moonbeams. Sunset was beginning when we arrived, and on the houses + and bridges and river, and even on the pavements of the broad + streets, there was the same gray-pink sheen as on the pearl I + bought for you. + + In the morning we went to see the University, and the Cathedral + with its lovely rose-pink pillars, and old painted Scandinavian + ceiling. Everything would have passed off charmingly, if Basil had + not begun to be rather foolish and unlike himself, while he and I + were in the Cathedral together. Fortunately, an old friend of his + he hadn't seen for years, appeared unexpectedly at the critical + moment, and invited us to visit him near Aboyne. I hadn't quite + time to say 'no' to Basil definitely, and we haven't gone back to + the subject since, so I am hoping for the best. I used to think it + would be _heavenly_ to have a proposal, but now, I realize that it + is much overrated. + + Your loving + BARRIE, + Who hopes she hasn't bored you. + + +LETTER FROM BARRIE TO SOMERLED + + DEAR SIR KNIGHT: I must write to tell you what a surprise + I had in Aberdeen. Basil took us all to a biograph theatre--the + first one I ever saw--and one set of pictures was labelled, 'A + Gretna Green Wedding of the Olden Days.' How my heart beat!--and + not for nothing, because, oh, Sir Knight, it was _our_ wedding! My + face never showed once, but the hair looked like mine; and _your_ + face was just like yours and nobody else's, in spite of the + old-fashioned costume. Basil said out loud, 'By Jove!' and the + Vannecks recognized you, and asked all sorts of questions. I had to + tell them the story, but I didn't mind a bit. In fact, I think I + was proud. The pictures were coloured, so perhaps that was one + reason they guessed, for my hair was so red. I told Basil I always + wanted to be married at Gretna Green, and now I _have_ been. But he + had the air of being rather _shocked_. I shouldn't have thought he + was that kind of person. + + Afterward, he was afraid that he had offended me; but I hadn't + cared at all. However, he has been kinder than ever since, as if to + make up. Walking about in the Cathedral next day, we met a + delightful man, actually the _Head of a Clan_, who had been in + Canada and had known Basil there. He invited us to visit at his + place near Aboyne, on Deeside--just think, not far from where + Macbeth was killed!--and of course that enchanted Mrs. Vanneck, who + has an insatiable yearning to see the inside of Scottish houses. + His is a beautiful house. I must tell you about it. Maybe you + remember the road from Aberdeen to Aboyne, through lovely forests + and mountains, and how by and by you come to Deeside, and the + Grampians. The Chieftain we went to visit owns a whole mountain, + and many miles of land besides; and when you arrive at his estate + there are no gates to drive into. You wind on and on, along an + exquisite avenue through the woods, and you would not know you were + on any one's property if you hadn't been told beforehand, though it + is all beautifully kept--not too smart and trim, but just right to + be picturesque and romantic. There's no impression of 'This is + mine, not yours. _You_ are here only on sufferance!' Instead, the + trees and hills and heather seem to say gently, 'This is a part of + the world where our master lives, because it is lovely and he loves + it. He makes you welcome to come and go as you will, whoever you + are, as if it were your own.' Don't you think that is a charming + impression? And afterward we found out that the doors of this + Chieftain's house are never locked. Mostly in the summer they stand + wide open all night, although he has beautiful old silver, and + quantities of valuable pictures and things which have been in his + family more or less ever since there was a Scotland. It is a dear + old sixteenth-century house, with networks of black oak beams, and + lots of quaint bow-windows that look out on lovely lawns and + flower-gardens, and box or holly hedges, and yew trees cut in + fantastic shapes. + + We stayed one whole day and two nights. Wasn't it good of him to + have us? In all the corridors there are carpets and curtains of the + Chieftain's hunting tartan. I loved it. I do hope you have dogs' + heads and antlers, and tartan curtains and carpets and things at + your castle at Dhrum? It is yours, you know! I wonder if I shall + ever see it? + + I can't tell you how excited I was when the Chieftain and several + other Highland men he had staying in his house-party wore the kilt + to dinner. All their knees were baked to exactly the right brown; + but he was the smartest of the men (though some were very young and + handsome), because he, being the head of the Clan, had a green + velvet coat. Poor Basil and Mr. Vanneck in their ordinary evening + things looked like _nothing at all_. I was quite sorry for them, + but so glad I hadn't to sit by one at the table, as I wanted only + to talk to the kilted men. I wore that white frock you chose for + me--do you remember?--and a sash of the MacDonald of Dhrum dress + tartan, which I found in Aberdeen. All during dinner the pipers + piped, and I was so thrilled I could scarcely eat. Afterward there + was an impromptu dance in a bare, tartan-draped room, where it + seemed that Macbeth could quite well have been entertained. I + thought I should have to look on, of course, as I've never learned + to dance; but that dear Chieftain taught me the 'Petronella,' which + is very pretty and easy to pick up. It seems as if one could not + help dancing to the music of the pipes; don't you find it so? Queen + Mary is supposed to have introduced the Petronella to Scotland, the + tallest man with the brownest knees told me; and Francis I brought + it from Spain to France. It is quite a Spanish sort of dance, + though Scotland has adopted it. I learned a lovely Highland + schottische, too; and after I had seen others dancing the reels + (ought I to say foursomes or eightsomes?) I tried those too, and + got on well, everybody said. But the reel is a dance you can dance + _only_ with your own hair. Mine, which I had pinned up very neatly, + came down. And one of the girls had a curl come _off_. Luckily she + didn't seem to care. She said that accidents would happen on the + best regulated heads. + + I do so wonder, by the way, what a Highlander would do if he + happened to be born with legs so crooked that he couldn't wear the + kilt? I suppose he would have to emigrate when very young, or else + stop in bed all his life. + + In the morning a dignified piper named Donal played us awake, + walking round and round the house. It delayed my dressing + dreadfully, pausing to gaze him out of sight every time he passed + under my window. I could have cried when he stopped; but he played + more while we had breakfast. I sat next to an Englishman, and would + you believe it, the loveliest lament got on his horrid nerves, and + he said in a low voice, 'Shall I be able to _live_ through it?' If + I had been engaged to him I should have broken it off at once. + + The Chieftain has a friend who is a Princess--not a little + 'pretend' princess like me, but a real one with a capital 'P'--and + he introduced us to her at a big garden party he was having at his + place on our day there. 'They are going on to Braemar to-morrow,' + he said; and she being as kind and hospitable as he, promptly + invited us to lunch with her at Braemar Castle. Mrs. Vanneck was + pale with joy! + + We left from the Chieftain's early in the morning, and Donal + played us away, on the best run Blunderbore has given us yet, + through what I am sure is true Highland scenery. There are castles + dotted about everywhere; and I saw my first Highland + cattle--adorable little shaggy beasts with forelocks like sporans, + and innocent short faces. Their eyes were so wide apart it seemed + that they might be able to see round all the corners. A cherubic + bull tried to charge Blunderbore, but changed his mind at the last + moment owing to the persuasions of his female friends. The rough, + dark brown forms somehow emphasized the beauty of the wild + background, the hills painted golden and purple with bracken and + heather, the mountains (for there seem always to be mountains in + the distance in Scotland) looking exactly the colour of violets + against the hyacinth blue of the sky. All sorts of Highland things + got in our way, counting deer; and I made up rules for creatures + which it would be very useful if they could be taught to obey. + 'Bulls kindly requested not to charge motor-cars. No sitting down + or cud-chewing allowed in the middle of roads. Deer will please, + when darting across, start at least six yards ahead of motors. + Chickens will keep to their own side of the road when they have + chosen it three times. Rabbits not to run directly ahead of the car + for more than three miles at a stretch.' + + As we lumbered along with Blunderbore, each heather-dyed hill that + rolled out of our way disclosed a new, or rather a very old, + castle. I should think there must be as many castles in this part + of the world as there are cottages. I know we saw more! except + perhaps those sweet little dwellings grouped together in the + charming villages of Ballater and Braemar. No wonder the King and + Queen love this part of the world. Basil thought everything here + quite foreign-looking: but there's always that French spirit in + Scotland, isn't there? I'm sure the coffee is so good just because + of that. + + It was fun having luncheon at Braemar Castle, which has more + turrets than you can count without knowing it well. Each room + nearly has a turret, and some have two: and on the thick wooden + shutters names of soldiers quartered in the Castle after Prince + Charlie days are roughly carved. Of _course_ there's a dungeon, and + a secret way to the far-off village and river: and when you enter + you have to wind up and up a tower stairway with here and there a + little deep-set iron-barred window to give you light. I wish you + could see the Princess's Persian dog, Mirzan, of the oldest race of + dogs in the world: yellow-white as old ivory, tall and thin and + graceful as a blowing plume. He takes strange attitudes like dogs + in pictures by old masters; and you feel he can't be real. He must + have stepped stealthily out from a dim tapestry hanging on one of + the thick stone walls, and he will have to go back to his place + beside the sleeping tapestry knight, as soon as he has finished + running after the doves, who have left their dovecote and are + balancing with their coral feet on the battlements, or walking in + the courtyard. Seeing this castle of the Princess's makes me quite + envy you having Dunelin. I should like to live in a castle. _Do_ + buy Dunelin, as you said you sometimes thought of doing, and invite + me to be a humble little member of one of your big house-parties. + Your deserted princess, BARRIE. + + +LETTER FROM BARRIE TO HER MOTHER + + DEAREST BARBARA: Every prospect pleases and only man is + vile. At least, I don't mean vile, but upsetting. It is too bad + about Basil. I don't know what to do. I hope _you_ aren't hoping + that I may fall in love with him? Something he said makes me think + _he_ believes you want it. But why should you? You don't know him + and his sister so very well. They aren't old friends. Darling, if I + am a bother to you--and I know I am--I'll go far away and change my + name and do anything you like, except marry Basil. It isn't that + I'm too young. It seems to me if I loved a man desperately I should + like to marry him while I was young, so as to give him all my + years, and because I should grudge the days and weeks and months + lived away from him. But Basil is just like a brother. He might + hold my hand all day, and I shouldn't have a single thrill, which + he says is the way for a girl to find out whether she's really in + love. + + Everything might be so pleasant, if it weren't for this silliness. + We have seen Elgin, which has the most exquisite ruined Cathedral + that ever lived or died; and sweet Pluscarden Abbey not far off; + and Forres, full of memories of Macbeth; and a mysterious carved + shaft of sandstone called Sweno's Stone; and the hidden, secret + glen of the Findhorn River, where we had to get out, and walk for + miles through a gorge of the most entrancing beauty. Sometimes it + was wild and grand, sometimes peaceful as a dream of fairyland. + Every kind of lovely tree grew there, out of sheer, rocky walls red + as coral, or pale and glistening as gray satin; and you looked far + down on water brown as the brown of dogs' eyes--deep pools, and a + hundred rapids and tiny cataracts filling the glen with their + singing. But Mr. and Mrs. Vanneck would walk far ahead of us on the + steep narrow paths, which were so slippery I had to let Basil help + me, and it was most embarrassing and futile to keep refusing him + all the time. He says we were meant for each other, but I know + better! + + You remember, don't you, dear, I didn't want to take this trip? My + feeling must have been a presentiment. + + At Culloden Moor I couldn't help crying a little over Prince + Charlie and his brave Highlanders, for I think no other battlefield + can keep its sadness and romantic pathos, and its effect upon the + mind as that does. You know it's almost within sight and sound of + the sea; and the voice of the wind among the pines--dark, straight + ranks of pines like soldiers in mourning, standing in a + bloodstained sea of heather--seemed to me like the wail of ghostly + pipes playing a Highland lament. Wandering among the wavy graves + and piled cairns of the different clans who gave their lives in + vain for Prince Charlie, I was with Basil all alone, for those + wretched Vannecks would go off by themselves, as usual, in the most + marked way. He made me wipe my eyes with his handkerchief, and then + folded it up to 'keep forever.' He does choose the strangest places + to make love, and always contrives the minute the others go away, + to bring the subject round to that. Luckily we are all four + together in the car, as the chauffeur drives, but even there he + looks at me, which is quite getting on my nerves. Yesterday I asked + to sit in front, saying I wanted more air. It was after leaving + Inverness; and I had the best of it, quite by accident. It was a + horrid road, almost the only bad one we've had; full of flat holes + which the chauffeur called 'pans,' and the others, in the back of + the car, nearly had their spines come through the tops of their + heads. Strange what a difference there is, sitting in the driver's + seat! The bumping lasted all the way to Drumnadrochit, where we + turned away from a long, straight loch to mount up into lovely + strange country; then plunged down a steep hill to Invercannich--a + charming place ringed round with lovely, mysterious-looking + mountain-peaks which seem to say 'If we chose, we could tell you + the secret of Glen Affric, which we are hiding.' + + Isn't that an alluring name--Glen Affric? A little while ago I + should have wanted immensely to see it; but now whenever any one + proposes walking through a glen I always argue that it would be + better not. + + Last night we stopped at Strathpeffer, a gay and beautiful little + cure-town, which is like a walled flower-garden set down in the + midst of wild and stern Caledonia. The mountains are the walls; and + heather flows round them and beats against them like a purple + ocean. It is so foreign looking that it reminded Basil of Baden + Baden. Now we are going on into Ross-shire, which Basil describes + as a country of moorlands and great spaces where red deer live. But + already we have seen deer walking quite calmly out of the forests + on to our road, where they stop to gaze quizzically, without the + least fear, at the car. It is almost as if they took it for a + brother-animal. To-night we shall be at Loch Maree, and of course + you won't get this in time to telegraph there. But perhaps you + might wire to Ballachulish, where we shall be to-morrow. Do, + dearest, and tell me to come back to you. In spite of all the + loveliness, I can't stand this much longer, for I cannot make Basil + stop without being really _rude_ to him. You needn't keep me more + than a day if it's inconvenient. I'll go anywhere afterward--except + to Grandma's. Or even there, if she'll have me back!--Your loving + and anxious BARRIE. + + +TELEGRAM TO BARRIE FROM MRS. BALLANTREE MACDONALD + + If you want to please me and be very happy yourself say 'Yes' to + B. N. Splendid thing for you. Could wish nothing better for your + future. Do relieve my mind by writing that you have decided. Yours + lovingly and hopefully, + + BARBARA. + + +LETTER FROM BARRIE TO HER MOTHER + + DEAREST: Your telegram gave me the most dreadful surprise + when I arrived here at Ballachulish, and everything else seemed + against me too, for there was a wire from Mr. Bennett's sister + asking Mr. and Mrs. Vanneck to make their visit to her as soon as + possible, at that shooting lodge you told us about. They wanted to + go, and I was the only thing that prevented them. If I had an + _enemy_ trying to push me into a corner this would have seemed like + his (or her) work--just as if it had been planned on purpose. But, + of course, that idea is nonsense. Basil said, 'Now, if you could + only care a little, and make up your mind to wait for the love, we + could be married at once, because I believe it's still easy to do + these things quickly in Scotland.' But I told him _I_ didn't feel + as if I could, even to please Barbara, though I liked him very + much. And I began to think that, after all, I should have to go + back to Carlisle and beg Grandma to take me in, when who should + come teuf-teufing up to the hotel but Mr. Somerled in the darling + Gray Dragon. I could have cried with joy. It was like a miracle, + because, though I thought he might come along some time, I wasn't + expecting him then, any more than you would expect manna to fall in + 1912 just because you happened to be hungry and lost. + + You will be surprised perhaps at my feeling that I was saved from + Basil and Grandma simply because Mr. Somerled happened to turn up + at our hotel in his motor-car. But I haven't told you all yet. He + wasn't alone. He had collected Duncan MacDonald and Miss MacDonald, + and he'd come to Ballachulish looking for us. I must confess to you + now that I wrote to him twice or three times, which was only + polite, as he'd been so kind about rescuing me before. And you + hadn't forbidden me to write. One of the things I told him in a + letter was about the visit to Mrs. Payne the Vannecks might be + making: and it occurred to him that some such complication as this + might arise. He thought if Mr. and Mrs. Vanneck wanted to go to the + Round House, it would be very nice for me to join my cousins (of + course the MacDonalds are my cousins) until you are ready for me to + come back to you. Or else I could go and stay at Dunelin Castle at + Dhrum, for they are willing to visit him there if I do. It has been + let to him for years, you know. As the MacDonalds are poor he was + afraid, if he didn't take the castle, they might let or even sell + it to some vulgar rich person who would spoil the island he loves. + Now he may buy it himself: for Duncan MacDonald has no son, and the + daughter is so plain and old that she can't possibly marry. Won't + it be good to have the castle still belonging to a MacDonald? And + it is so romantic that it should be Ian Somerled MacDonald, whom + Duncan used to despise. But perhaps you've never heard that story? + + Now, both the father and daughter are sweet to 'their dear + cousin,' and very kind to me--to please him, of course. Next to + being with you, I'd rather go to Dhrum than do anything else in the + world. Perhaps it will seem to you just the right thing, because I + know how difficult it is to plan what to do with me for the rest of + my life, unless I marry Basil. And maybe you wouldn't so much mind + my not marrying him, if I had a proper place to stay for ever so + many weeks, while you looked round? + + Mr. and Mrs. Vanneck haven't gone yet, but they will be starting + to-morrow morning for Dundee, and from there they will go to the + Round House. I am sorry to say I shan't miss them, as I did Mrs. + James. Cousin Duncan and Cousin Margaret (they have told me to call + them 'Cousin') don't seem Scottish at all, and so they are rather + disappointing. They live in London and don't care for Dhrum, but + they appear not to dislike the idea of visiting Mr. Somerled there. + I believe they have often in old times visited the people to whom + they let Dunelin Castle, but only when there was a very good _chef_ + and a gay house-party. Cousin Margaret has a large, high nose, and + thin hair and a thin face and body. All her personality is thin and + cold, as if she couldn't care much about anything. But she does + care about women getting votes, and insists on talking politics in + the midst of lovely scenery. She looks so like her father, it is + quite funny, and their voices are exactly alike, slow and correct + and exaggeratedly English; and Scottish history bores them. They + are proud of the ancestor who ratted from Prince Charlie and fought + with Butcher Cumberland, so we have nothing in common. But any port + in a storm! + + I suppose I mustn't go away in the Gray Dragon till I hear from + you? Yet surely you will say 'Yes,' as it will save you trouble, + without my being obliged to marry Basil. I am sorry for him, but he + will soon get over it, for he loves his writing better than + anything else in the world, and presently he will go back to it and + forget me. I think he likes me because I would make a new kind of + heroine for one of his novels, and I'm quite willing he should have + me for that. + + I suppose if I go with Mr. Somerled Mrs. West will join Basil in a + few days, and they will continue their tour together as if nothing + had happened to interrupt it. Of course I haven't told Mr. Somerled + about Basil proposing, so when he suggested my going for a short + run with the Gray Dragon in memory of old times, he invited Basil + too. But that was before the Vannecks had looked out trains, and + decided that they couldn't get off till to-morrow. There wouldn't + be comfortable room for such a crowd even in the Gray Dragon. + Anyhow, Basil refused, saying he had writing to do--and I went with + Mr. Somerled and the cousins to the Pass of Glencoe--you know, + don't you, 'The Glen o' Weeping'? + + It is only an afternoon excursion from Ballachulish, so I was sure + you wouldn't object to my deciding for myself. As for Ballachulish, + it is one of the most charming little places I've seen yet in + Scotland, although coming here as we did from Loch Maree it would + need to be beautiful indeed, not to be what you call in the theatre + an 'anticlimax.' Loch Maree lies all secret and hidden among deer + forests. Along the narrow, twisting road as you go, you hear the + rushing sound of many rivers. Nobody had ever even dreamed of + motor-cars when that road was made, so you have to travel slowly + and manoeuvre whenever you meet anything if you don't want to be + killed. Even as it was, we got mixed up with a big automobile + loaded with fish-baskets. Our flywheel was on the ground, running + helplessly round and round, screaming horribly, while both + chauffeurs abused each other. Such a funny accident, and we had + another, going up a very steep hill. We'd so little petrol that it + ran back, as your blood does if you hold up your hand, and the + motor would do nothing but groan till we found out what was the + matter. Altogether it was quite an adventure going on such a road + with such a weak, elderly car like Blunderbore: but it was worth it + all, for Loch Maree is the beautiful birthplace of baby rainbows. + As we came near, travelling a mere white seam in a carpet of purple + heather stitched together with silver streams, I saw any quantity + of unfinished rainbows, just waiting to be matched on to each other + like bits of a puzzle. They hovered over rivulets, dancing in the + sunlight; or stained with colour the rocks thickly silvered with a + brocade of lichen, or else hid suddenly in the heather which, + mingling with pale green bracken, made a straggling pattern of + amethyst and jade for miles along the way. Oh, it was all lovely; + and we stayed a night there, at an ideal inn where fishermen engage + their rooms years beforehand. A dear old waiter in the Loch Maree + hotel advised me in the kindest way never, never to speak of fresh + herring as fish, in Scotland. I wonder why? He said, would I have + fresh herrings or eggs? I said I'd have the fish. He said there was + _no fish_, but would I try the herring? That was the way the + subject came up. + + We had two Highland ferries to cross, getting to Ballachulish. + Strome Ferry, which was difficult and almost dangerous because + there was a great storm of wind just then, and Dornie Ferry. I + liked those experiences better than almost anything we have done + with Blunderbore. The little ferries were so much more exciting + than a huge steam ferryboat, like that on the Tay. And in the wild, + lost country passing Clunie Inn, it poured with rain and wind, the + gale lashing us, rocking the car like a cradle. The spattering mud + made us look like hideous freckled people; and so the MacDonalds + saw me first. I hope Mr. Somerled explained I wasn't like that + really. We had so much arguing about Mrs. Payne's telegram and what + the Vannecks should do, that we had no time to wash, and I didn't + seem to care if I was never clean again. But the minute the Gray + Dragon appeared I cared _fearfully_. I took great pains with my + appearance before I started out with my new cousins, for Glencoe, + and I felt so happy that it seemed the place ought to call itself + the Glen o' Smiling instead of the Glen o' Weeping. + + Of course, however, I lost that frivolous feeling when we were + there, even though it was a joy to be back with the Gray Dragon; + for the Pass of Glencoe is like the Valley of Death. It is a sad + mouth wide open, roaring to the sky for vengeance, biting at the + clouds with black, jagged teeth; a great mouth in a dead face wet + with the tears of the weeping that can never be dried. It rained + while we were there, and though rain doesn't matter to the Gray + Dragon, it made the Pass more wild and grim if possible, filling it + with gray, drifting ghosts: ghosts of the murdered clansmen; ghosts + disappearing into dark, open doorways of rock castles, or falling + on the green floor of the glen, to weep on the dim, faded purple of + the sparse heather. The river into which the weeping cataracts shed + their tears was black at first; but suddenly, though the rain did + not stop, the sun tore a hole through a cloud, and shot a huge + rainbow into the rushing water. It split into a thousand fragments, + still gleaming under the clear brown flood: and I thought it was as + if the MacDonald women, in trying to escape from the massacre, had + dropped their poor treasures--their cairngorms and garnets and + amethysts--and there the jewels had lain ever since under the + water, because no one dared fish them out. But also I thought the + key of the rainbow itself might be lying there; and that made me + happy again in spite of the sadness of the place: for Mr. Somerled + and I used to talk when we first knew each other about finding the + key of the rainbow together: and I saw by the way he looked that he + hadn't forgotten. It is a compliment when a man like that remembers + anything a girl says, don't you think? + + Now, dear Barbara, I must send off this letter at once, though I + am going to telegraph at the same time, to ask if I may accept Mr. + Somerled's invitation. I tell you frankly I don't know how I shall + _bear_ it if you say no. But you won't. You are too kind and sweet, + and you do want me to be happy and find the key of the rainbow, + don't you? + + Your BARRIE, + Who can hardly wait. + + + + +II + + +When Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald received the telegram, which reached her +the day before Barrie's letter, she showed it at once to Aline West. It +read: + + "Please forgive me for not saying 'Yes' as you wish to B. N. But I + need give no more trouble for a long time, though. Mr. and Mrs. + Vanneck leaving to-morrow. Mr. Somerled has arrived here with my + cousins the MacDonalds from London and I am invited to make visit + Dunelin Castle at Dhrum. Do please let me go, unless you can have + me. They will bring me back first to see you unless that + inconvenient. Have just posted you long letter, but hope you will + wire answer to this. + + "BARRIE." + +"How simply fatal!" Barbara remarked, so calmly that Aline could have +boxed her ears. But, after all, it was she who cared, not Mrs. Bal. So +long as Barrie was reasonably safe and reasonably happy, and entirely +out of her way (even temporarily out of her way), Barbara did not much +mind about anything else. She had wanted to punish Somerled a little for +his indifference, past and present, to her (almost) irresistible self: +but she _had_ punished him, and it had been great fun, and she was tired +of bothering. Her sense of humour, a saving grace of hers, was tickled +by his persistence, and this unexpected coup at Ballachulish with the +MacDonalds. She could not help chuckling when she thought how Aline (it +had been mostly Aline) had maneuvered to throw that poor pretty child +into Basil's arms; and how, just as she seemed on the point of +succeeding, down swooped Somerled like a golden eagle of the mountains +to snap the prey out of his rival's mouth. Barbara would have preferred +that her daughter should marry Basil, since she must marry somebody to +be got rid of, being so _dreadfully_ in the way, poor pet! But luckily +Morgan Bennett had at last said what Barbara wanted him to say. He had +meant all along, no doubt, to say it--unless he had wavered from his +true allegiance a little on that perilous evening when he first saw +Barrie at the theatre. Barbara was safely engaged to him now; and though +she had had to tell him that "dear little sister Barrie" would probably +marry Basil Norman, she had only said "probably." She couldn't answer +for the creature--one never could for anybody. + +"How _like_ Somerled!" she gurgled, as Aline sat speechless, with the +telegram in her hand. "Now we know where he's been. He went to London +and collected the MacDonald family, when all else had failed. He must be +making it well worth their while, for they hate their native wilds. But +then--London in _August_! I suppose they welcomed any change. My poor +dear, I _am_ sorry if you're fond of him, but this does look as if +Somerled were tremendously in earnest. And if he is, I don't think you +and I are capable of coping with him. We must let things shape +themselves, I'm afraid." + +Aline's eyes, well again now, sent out a flash such as Basil knew. +"You're not going to fail me, are you?" she exclaimed. Her impulse was +to add shrilly, "Now that you've made your own market, and don't care a +rap what happens to any one else!" As she was Mrs. Bal's guest still, +and had been royally entertained, she sacrificed the momentary +satisfaction. Besides, this was the last moment in which it would be +safe to offend Mrs. Bal. + +"Fail you? Of course not," said Barbara. "But what more can I do? I've +written and wired Barrie. We both arranged, first for the Vannecks to +stay longer, and then for them to go suddenly--or at least to say they +were going. We've done so _many_ things, I'm quite confused. And I +should have _loved_ Barrie to fall in love with your brother, who's +perfectly charming and so _sensible_ about everything. But you see, I +can't force the girl. And Somerled's on the spot. What do you _want_ me +to do that I haven't done?" + +"I don't want you to do anything," Aline answered, struggling to keep +her head, "except to stand by me--and Basil. I do care for Ian. I've +confessed everything to you, and your not being certain about Mr. +Bennett made you so sweet and sympathetic, it was really a comfort. But +I've got my brother as well as myself to fight for. One never can be +sure what he'll do for himself, he's so modest, and always lets other +men get ahead. If you'll stick to us, I'll start off by the first train. +I fancy I'll have to go to Oban or somewhere, and hire a motor. Basil +has written about ferries there are to cross. It will be terrible, +alone. But if you'll stick to me----" + +"Stick to you?" repeated Barbara, hoping that Aline did not mean to put +her to too much trouble. She was a little--just a little--tired of dear +Aline. It had been useful and pleasant to have her, during this time of +uncertainty concerning Morgan Bennett: a nice woman to go about with; +pretty, but not too pretty; young, yet not too young; celebrated, yet +not as celebrated or popular as herself; but now it was all settled +about Morgan; and Aline had been a tiny bit plaintive, which was boring. +Also it was boring to see how stodgily George Vanneck was in love with +Mrs. West, without shadow of turning, although Barbara had tried her +hand, just for fun, at tempting him to turn. Even a worm would; but +George Vanneck wouldn't, which made him seem so slow! And Mrs. West was +a woman with only two smiles, and no real sense of humour. + +"All I mean is," Aline explained, uneasily feeling that she had lost her +power, "will you send me as your representative to Barrie? I _can't_ let +Ian think I have come because of him. But you are acting, and can't +possibly get away, so--as we're friends now, it would seem only natural +for me to go in your place." + +"What will you do when you get to Ballachulish?" + +"I'll give Barrie several reasons for marrying my brother, and if you'll +let me speak for you as well as for him and myself, I'm almost sure I +can--can save her from Somerled." + +At this Barbara frankly laughed, the way of putting it seemed so quaint; +and as for herself, she was feeling extraordinarily happy. She had got +what she wanted from life. She had got Morgan Bennett. And at the end of +the week he was going to America for a month, which was nice, because +while feeling perfectly safe about the future, she would be able to have +a little rest cure, without bothering to be agreeable to him. He was +fascinating, but strenuous. And if she need not have Barrie staying with +her after all, she could accept a charming invitation for Sunday and +part of Monday in the adorable Trossachs. It was the Duchess of Dalmelly +who had asked her, and she had thought she must refuse because Barrie +was due in Glasgow on Saturday evening. She had not felt like putting +off the child again, as Morgan would be gone; yet the Duchess did not +know that Barrie existed, and Barbara didn't want her to know. Why not +let things arrange themselves, and Barrie go to Dunelin Castle with the +MacDonalds? The Duchess was said to have wonderful house-parties, and +the Duke's place near Callander was famous. Barbara had never been +invited before and would like to go, especially as the fiancée of a +millionaire. It would give her new importance. + +"Oh, well, you must do as you like," she said easily to Aline, "but +don't fuss _too_ much. What is to be, will be, you know." + +"Yes, I know," Aline answered dryly. "And now I'll look up trains." + + + + +III + + +Aline induced Mrs. Bal to telegraph Barrie, "Await my messenger"; +nevertheless the girl was greatly surprised to see Mrs. West. She had +vaguely thought that Barbara might send one of the red-headed maids, to +take her back to Glasgow. + +Of course Basil must have known, but he had not told. Since Somerled and +the MacDonalds came, he had kept to himself with his writing as an +excuse. Now Barrie realized that certainly he had been expecting his +sister; yet he had not gone to meet her with his car. Perhaps there had +not been time: or perhaps he had an inspiration, and could not tear +himself from work, even for a few hours. + +When Aline arrived at Ballachulish, Barrie and Somerled and Margaret +MacDonald were walking together by the side of fair Loch Leven. Barrie +wore a white dress and no hat. The late afternoon sun was dazzling on +her hair, and as Somerled looked at her, across Miss MacDonald (it was +like Margaret to walk between them), there was an expression on his face +which made Aline feel capable of desperate things. A child like Barrie +to win him away from her so easily! There was something wrong about the +world. Aline yearned to right it, and live happily ever after. She had +travelled all night by train, and had been hours in a motor-car, never +once noticing the scenery; and instead of being enchanted with Connel +Ferry had regarded the crossing as a vexatious delay. Some of the most +beautiful scenes in Scotland had passed before her eyes between Oban and +Ballachulish; but if she thought of such things at all, she thought that +even a romantic writer couldn't be expected to notice irrelevant trifles +like nature, when bound up heart and soul in her own private romance. + +Somerled wondered how he could possibly have found her face interesting. +He did not know which of her two smiles had less genuine human nature in +it, the sad one or the gay one. And he wondered for the first time if +Basil didn't write the best part of their books. + +"I've come in a great hurry on an important mission from Mrs. Ballantree +MacDonald to Barrie," she explained to Somerled rather than to the girl, +as she got stiffly out of the motor-car. She was almost pathetically +anxious not to produce the impression that this frantic journey had been +undertaken on Ian's account. If she failed, she would put George Vanneck +out of his long misery by marrying him. She would even say that they had +been secretly engaged for some time. Anything rather than Somerled +should suspect the truth. But she was going to try hard not to fail. + +"I'll see Basil presently," she said when Barrie asked if they oughtn't +to let him know. It occurred to Somerled that Aline did not want to meet +her brother before strangers. "Let me just get rid of this hired +motor-car--and then I must fulfil my mission before doing anything else. +Basil and I will have plenty of time together. I've finished my visit to +Mrs. Bal. Dear child, may I have a little talk with you in your own +room, and give you your Barbara's message?" + +Barrie was eager, yet frightened. She could hardly wait to hear what was +her mother's verdict on the Plan; but it seemed ominous that she was to +learn it through Aline. Nothing good had come to her so far through Mrs. +West. + +Barrie's room was small, and looked over a dovecote. The doves were +mourning a good deal more than was reasonable considering that their +griefs must have happened generations ago. Their continuous cooing +rasped Aline's nerves. How would it be best to begin? She had planned it +out a dozen times in the train, and a dozen times more in the car: but a +few doves and a disturbance in an unseen family of chickens were enough +to put everything out of her head. Suddenly she began to cry. That was +not a part of her design; but no inspiration could have been more +useful. The pretty, serene mask of her smooth face wrinkled up +pitifully, and made her seem real and human. Barrie's heart warmed to +her for the first time. + +"Oh, Mrs. West, what is it?" she exclaimed. "Nothing has happened to +moth--to Barbara?" + +Nothing that happened to any one except herself could have drawn tears +from Aline West, but Barrie did not know that. + +"I am so--horribly unhappy!" wailed Aline, hiding her distorted face in +her hands. There was no time to fumble for a handkerchief. + +"Is there anything I can do?" Barrie asked. + +"There is--everything!" Aline choked. She began to realize from the +girl's agitated voice that the accident of her own tears had been +providential. "But you won't do it when you know." + +"I will, indeed--if I can," Barrie warmly protested. + +"You have taken Ian away from me," Aline sobbed. "He was mine till you +came. I worshipped him, and he loved me. He loves me still, but we +quarrelled--about you. I was jealous--I confess. You are so young. +I'm--thirty. He said he cared nothing for you in that way--that you were +only a child; but he'd promised you to take you to Edinburgh and be a +sort of guardian, and nothing would induce him to break his word. I was +foolish--I tried to make it a test with him. I said if he loved me he +would tell you he'd changed his mind, that he couldn't take you. But he +wouldn't be persuaded, and so we quarrelled. Everything has been wrong +between us since. He is so proud and hard! And my heart is breaking." + +"I am sorry--very sorry," Barrie answered in a queer, level voice, +without any expression in it. "Did you come here to tell me this?" + +"No, oh, no," Aline said quickly. "I came from your mother. I was to +tell you that she's going to marry Mr. Bennett, and that she hopes still +that you may make up your mind to accept my brother who loves you so +much, before Mr. Bennett comes back from America. He's going in a day or +two--for a few weeks. You know, it is so awkward for Barbara. If he +should find out that--little secret she's kept from him! He's rather a +strange man. He can be hard. She's afraid of him. She couldn't come to +you herself, and she dares not have you back because Mr. Bennett is +still there, and if he sees you--but you understand, don't you? I +offered to come. We are great friends, she and I. But--I wanted to come +for myself too. Ian is so terribly obstinate. He made up his mind that +you needed his help, and that he'd stand by you whatever happened. It is +his boast that he's never broken his word, nor failed any one. Even his +love for me wouldn't make him give up--and he won't give you up while he +thinks you are alone and needing a friend. See what he has done for you! +He has gone and fetched these MacDonalds. I knew something had happened +because his chauffeur was wired for, to meet him somewhere, but it was a +blow to hear from Barbara that he'd followed you. She showed me your +telegram. I almost lost hope then, that anything could ever come right +between Ian and me. But when she asked me to see you, I thought--it +seemed just possible, if I could make you understand----" + +"Please tell me," Barrie said, still in that strange, dry voice, unlike +hers, and very old sounding for a young girl, "please tell me exactly +what you thought I might do--when you'd made me understand?" + +"I thought you might feel that the only way to free Ian Somerled from +his supposed duty would be to marry some one else quickly. You know he +blames Barbara; but if you had a husband, you wouldn't need a guardian +any more. Then, if I asked him to forgive me--and I would ask him, for +I've no pride left!--he might come back. I believe he'd be glad to come +back, for we loved each other dearly before you parted us!" + +"That is true," said Barrie; "if I marry some one else he will +be--released. I didn't know what trouble I was making for him." + +"No, you didn't know, of course, for _he_ couldn't tell you," Aline +agreed. "But now you do know. Oh, the only way, if Ian is to be made +happy again in spite of himself, is for you to marry Basil. Think how +happy you will make him too! And Barbara. Every one will be happy, and +all through you." + +"I'll see Basil and talk to him," said Barrie. + +"You _will_? You little angel! But I must see him first and prepare him. +Are you going to do what we all want? Even Ian wants it at heart, though +he doesn't know it yet, for it would be such a relief for him to feel +you were all right, and he--could go back to--old times." + +"I'd marry Basil to-morrow, if I could," Barrie replied. + +"Perhaps you can," Aline said, radiant, drying her tears. + + * * * * * + +Basil persuaded himself that he would have been less than man if he +refused to accept his happiness, even though he could have wished it to +come to him spontaneously. But nothing, as Aline anxiously reminded him, +can be ideal in this world. And it wasn't as if it were certain that +Somerled would have married the girl if they had been let alone. + +"We shall never know now what he _would_ have done," she said, "and I +for one don't want to know. I want to know only what he will _do_. Even +if he has been a little--infatuated, why, you told me yourself that +hearts are often caught in the rebound. I shall try so hard." + +"But you are going away with us!" Basil said quickly. "You must." + +"Oh, I will. I wouldn't trust you alone--to keep Barrie. But afterward I +shall write him a letter. Such a letter! Of course, we've all three +quite decided now" (it was she, and Basil reluctantly, who had decided) +"merely to tell him that we're obliged to take Barrie back to her +mother; that Mrs. Bal would hear of nothing else. And it won't be a lie, +because as soon as you're married, you will take her to see Barbara. +Morgan Bennett will be gone, so Mrs. Bal won't mind--much. Have you +decided where the wedding is to be?" + +"Gretna Green," Basil answered with such prompt decision that Aline was +surprised. + +"Why Gretna Green? It's such a long way," she objected, impatient for +the afterward, which was to be her reward. "I thought one place was as +good as another in Scotland nowadays, and that----" + +"I've a special reason for wanting to be married to Barrie at Gretna +Green," said Basil, almost fiercely. "For one thing, she's told me that +it used to be a dream of hers. For another----" + +"For another?" + +"No matter. Only a fancy of mine--to rub out the recollection of +something I don't like. Of course, if Barrie objects--but I hope she +won't." + +Barrie did not object in words. Only her heart rebelled. But her one +great wish was to put her heart to sleep. And nothing else mattered. +Nothing else must matter now. + + + + +IV + +BARRIE WRITES AGAIN + + +This never was a story. I wrote things down, to please myself, just as +they happened. But now that the end of the heather moon has come, I must +write of its last days. I think by and by I shall send all this to Mrs. +James, in California, otherwise she will never understand how everything +came about; and besides, if it hadn't been for her the end would have +been very different. + +This part will have to be a sort of confession. When I began to write, I +used not to say much about my feelings, even when I was sure of them, +which was seldom; but I see now that I fell in love with my knight the +minute I saw him first. I must have been fascinated, or it would not +have occurred to me to choose him as the man to buy my brooch. I might +have spoken to some one else. By the time we started on our trip and got +as far as Gretna Green, I _worshipped_ him. That is why I was so happy. +I never troubled then about what the end would be. I just gave myself up +to being happy, and it seemed as if such happiness must last forever. I +used to wonder why I wasn't more impatient to get to Edinburgh and see +my mother--the one thing I started out to do. But it was because I'd +fallen in love with my knight, and he was already more important for me +than any one else in the world, more important even than Barbara. + +Soon I began to suspect what was happening; and in Edinburgh I was +quite, _quite_ sure. But I wasn't any longer perfectly happy. There were +clouds over the heather moon--that sweet, kind moon which I used to say +was the best of the year for falling in love. + +I stopped writing then, for if I had written it would have had to be all +about my feelings. The world was full of them. They were like gulls +wheeling round a lighthouse lamp; and my heart was the lamp. + +I thought, in Edinburgh, that my knight didn't care for me as I did for +him. He kept away, and let other men go with me everywhere. Now I +understand why, but then it made me miserable, for I knew he was the One +Man, and always would be. A girl who had once loved him could never look +at any one else. There were other things too that made me sad. Nobody +wanted me. People were always planning how to send me away: but the +heather moon shone in spite of all, and each evening when she came up, +out of the mysterious places where she hides, she seemed to say: +"Courage. Have faith in me. Don't lose hope, and I'll show you yet where +to find the rainbow key." So I wouldn't lose hope; and I felt rewarded +when my knight asked me to write to him, and promised that by and by I +should see him again. + +Then a letter came, and though I couldn't think why he had gone back to +Carlisle to call on Grandma, I felt it must be for a reason connected +with me; and that was cheering--just to know that I was in his mind. +About London--when he went there afterward--I wasn't so sure. But it was +the happiest day in my life when he suddenly appeared at Ballachulish. +He came just in time, it seemed, to save me as he had saved me before. I +could hardly keep from showing how I adored him. As he had come such a +long way and had done so much for my sake, I thought that perhaps after +all he did care, though it seemed too wonderful to be true. Now and +then, while we were waiting to hear what Barbara would say about the +invitation to Dhrum, there was a look in his eyes that made me feel the +heather moon had been my true friend. He was changed, too, not hard and +cynical as he used to be, but kind and gentle to every one, as if he had +begun to see what a beautiful place the world can be. + +This made it worse when Mrs. West came, and explained that all he had +done for me was for duty, not for love: that he loved her, and I had +spoiled everything for them both. Mrs. West said that he would stick to +his duty at all costs, until I was actually married, so I was glad then, +instead of sorry as I had been before, that Basil wanted me. I saw that +she was right, and the sooner it was over the better. But I didn't dare +think about the future. I just went on blindly, and did what Basil and +Mrs. West told me to do. Nothing seemed to matter except to show my +knight that after all my selfishness and thoughtlessness and conceit I +had freed him. + +I would rather have been married anywhere than at Gretna Green, but +Basil had set his heart on that place. + +We told my knight that Barbara was making me go away at once with Mrs. +West and Basil; or rather, I let them explain. I couldn't. I was afraid +I should break down, and he would see how wretched I was. It was all I +could do to say "good-bye." It nearly killed me to see the hurt, +surprised look on his face. Even now I can hardly write of that. + +Basil had found out about the marriage laws. We had been in Scotland for +three weeks, and all we had to do, if we wanted to be married in a +hurry, was to declare before two witnesses who knew us both, that we +took each other as husband and wife. We could have done it just as well +at Ballachulish if Basil hadn't been determined it should be Gretna +Green; but afterward I thought that he, or perhaps Mrs. West, had felt +it would be better to have the wedding far away from my knight, who +called himself my guardian, and might consider it his duty to object. + +Mrs. West was to be one of the witnesses, and, as Barbara couldn't leave +the man she was engaged to, the very last day before he sailed, Basil +thought we had better have Salomon the chauffeur for the second witness. +Mr. George Vanneck might have come on from Glasgow, but I heard Mrs. +West say to Basil, when he suggested telegraphing, "I don't want to see +him just now, and especially at the time of a wedding. He might be +unreasonable." + +As we needed Salomon, we went all the way in the car, instead of taking +the train from Oban, which would have saved us a few hours. + +When we got to Gretna Green it was evening, but the daylight lingered +still. In the south it would already have been gone. There was a pale +dusk mingling with the moonshine, and I couldn't help remembering the +mysterious light in Sweetheart Abbey, on my first night of Scotland and +the heather moon. I remembered my dream, too, the dream of the locked +ebony and silver box, which could be opened only by the key of the +rainbow. It nearly broke my heart to think of these things, and I wished +it _would_ break, so that I might die instead of marrying Basil: for if +I were dead I should be safely out of everybody's way, just the same as +being married. + +Basil asked me where it was that we had gone through the ceremony for +the photographs, but before I had time to answer, the car brought us to +the house, and he recognized it from the biograph pictures. He told +Salomon to stop, and leaving Mrs. West and me in the car, he got out to +talk with the man of the house. Up till that moment I had been dully +wishing it were all over, and had been actually in a hurry; but suddenly +I felt as if I couldn't bear being married, and should have to run away. +I longed and almost prayed for something--anything--to happen which +would put off the wedding until another day. If an earthquake had +wrecked the house I should have been delighted. But nothing did happen. +Mrs. West talked cheeringly to me while Basil was gone, saying how happy +I should be all the rest of my life, and what a lovely honeymoon her +brother was planning. "I shall go away and leave you to your two +selves," she said; and though I'm afraid I almost hated her, still I +longed to cry out, "Oh, _don't_ go away!" + +In a few minutes Basil came back, looking excited and rather happy, yet +there was that curiously pitiful, apologetic expression in his eyes +which had been in them always lately, as if he were ashamed and sorry +about something. + +"It's all right," he explained. "The man tells me we can be married +here, and it's not too late. He says a good many people come even +nowadays, simply for the romance of having their wedding at Gretna +Green." Then Basil gave his hand to me, to help me down from the car. I +felt very weak, and almost sick. How different from the day when my +knight and I had dashed up to this door in the old-fashioned chaise, and +played the game of being married at the anvil! How my heart beat as he +held me for an instant in his arms! I ought to have known then that I +was in love with him. Now, it was as if my heart were dying, for it felt +cold and heavy as lead, as I told myself that after this it would be +wrong to call Mr. Somerled "my knight," or even to think of him at all, +since to think was to love. + +Mrs. West got down from the car too, and took off her veil. Basil +explained to Salomon what it would be necessary for him to do, and how +he must leave his motor for a few minutes. + +My knees trembled so that I could scarcely walk. Basil noticed it, and +insisted on my taking his arm. "It's because she has been sitting still +in the car so long," Mrs. West said to him hastily. "I am often like +that after a day's motoring." + +"You're awfully pale," said Basil, staring at me anxiously. "You won't +faint or anything, will you?" + +"Oh, no," I said. "I am quite well." I tried to speak naturally, but my +voice sounded as if it were some one else's, miles away. And for a +minute, after entering the little room that looked so familiar, I was +afraid that I might cry or be somehow stupid. + +"Now," said Basil, "all we have to do is to state before these witnesses +that we take one another in marriage. Isn't that it?" he asked, turning +to the old man, who in the costume brought by the photographers, had +performed the ceremony over me and my knight. + +"Yes, sir, that is all there is to it," he replied; but as he spoke he +was peering curiously at me. "That's all there is to what we call an +irregular marriage in Scotland, such as this is going to be. When I say +'irregular,' you mustn't think anything wrong. It's as legal as the kind +with banns. If you want to register your marriage, sir, you must make +application to the sheriff of the county; but it's just as binding and +legal without." + +"That is what I understood," said Basil. "But, of course, I shall have +it registered. Are you ready, Barrie?" + +"Excuse me the liberty, sir," broke in the old man, "but I think this +will be the young leddy who was done for the Cinema? I know her by her +hair. I'm not so sure, though, that I recognize you, sir, or----" + +"No, no, it wasn't I. That was her guardian," Basil returned hurriedly. +"Now, Barrie, if you're ready----" + +"Yes, I'm ready----" I began. I found that I could speak only in a +whisper. Or perhaps it was the whirr of a passing motor outside which +drowned my voice. + +"Well then, come, dearest child, and stand here by me. Give me your +hand----Is anything the matter?" + +I forgot to answer, the sound of that car out there was so like the +well-remembered purr of the Gray Dragon. But I seemed always to be +hearing a kind of undertone of Dragon music. Often I had turned my head +as we came from Oban, to see if some car gaining on us from behind were +the Gray Dragon. It never was; and this would not be. But it was not +passing after all. It was stopping near the house--as near as +Blunderbore would allow. + +"Is anything the matter?" I heard the words more clearly the second time +he spoke. + +"No," I said. "There is nothing----" + +He took my hand, which was hanging by my side, for I had forgotten to +give it when he asked. His felt very hot to the touch, so mine must have +been cold. He pressed it warmly, and his eyes called to mine. There was +no light in the room, for it was not needed yet, and I could see that +his face was white. I wished above all things to pull my hand away from +him. + +"I, Basil, take thee, Barribel----" he began formally. + +"I forbid this marriage. It mustn't go on," said a voice at the door. It +sounded like the voice of my knight: but everything was so dream-like +and unreal that I thought the voice was part of the unreality. It could +not be his. + +But it was. He came forward, covered with dust from head to foot, as if +he had been driving far and fast. + +"Barribel MacDonald is already my wife," he said. + +He took my hand away from Basil, who was so astounded that for an +instant he did not resist. But in another second a flood of rage seemed +to sweep over him, giving him strength and presence of mind. + +"That's not true, and you know it!" he exclaimed, while Mrs. West stood +still as a statue, looking suddenly years older than before. "Barrie, +come to me." + +But my knight would not let me go. He grasped my hand so tightly that it +hurt. I felt as if my fingers would break in his, and for just that +moment I was deliriously happy, until I remembered, with a sharp pain +like an icicle in my heart, that he loved Mrs. West. + +"It _is_ true," he said. "We went through the marriage ceremony here, +three weeks ago, she and I, as this man will tell you. I am a Scot, and +I claim her as my wife by the law of Scotland, unless she will swear to +me now, before God, that she loves you and wants you for her husband. If +she can swear that, I will take steps to release her. What do you say, +Barrie?" + +"I--I _like_ Basil very much," I stammered. "I was willing--I am +willing--to marry him." + +"I didn't ask if you liked, but if you loved, him. Do you?" + +"I--I want to marry him," I exclaimed, strength flowing into me as I +thought of Mrs. West. "Don't be afraid, Mr. Somerled. I've troubled you +enough. Even if we really are married, I would rather die than hold you. +I know everything--how it was about me you quarrelled with _her_. But +I've spoiled only a few weeks of your life. I won't spoil the rest. It +is she who ought to be your wife, not I." + +"Who has said that to you?" he asked. + +"It is her own idea!" Mrs. West cried. + +"Then it is a very foolish idea," said he. "Mrs. West and I never had +it. If you love Basil Norman, Barrie, I won't stand in your way. But if +you don't love him, by heaven he shan't take you from me." + +"There's no question of taking her from you. She doesn't belong to you," +Basil flung back at him. "For a marriage to be legal one of the persons +concerned must have lived in Scotland for twenty-one days----" + +"I lived in Scotland seventeen years." + +"But not directly before that foolish business here----" + +"I have never been without a holding in Scotland. Dunelin Castle has +been mine by lease for years. Now it's mine by right of ownership. +Whether our marriage was legal or not will have to be settled by +Scottish Law before the girl can marry any one else, and I shall fight +in the courts for my rights if you dispute them." + +"Are you going to throw me over, Barrie?" Basil asked. + +"You shall not put it to her like that!" said my knight. "Barrie, you +haven't answered my question. Do you love him?" + +"No," I faltered. I could not lie. + +"Do you love me?" + +"You're cruel to ask me that, when you----" + +"When you ought to have seen long ago, that I was at your feet, that I +was mad for you, that you were my one thought. I tried not to be a brute +as well as a fool, so I stood aside and gave all the other men who were +younger, and perhaps worthier, their chance. If you had loved anybody +else I'd have let you alone. But I don't think one of those men made +good. Do you love me, Barrie? Answer me now, as if we were alone +together?" + +"Yes," I whispered. + +He caught me in his arms, and kissed me on the mouth, holding me close +against his breast. + +"Then," he said, "I am your husband. Are you my wife? I ask you before +these witnesses, who know us both." + +"I am your wife," I repeated after him. + +"This time," he exclaimed, "we are safely married, and not all the world +can part us now." + +Basil and Aline went away before we did. Aline said she was going to +Glasgow, to tell Barbara how I had treated them, and to see the man she +was engaged to marry: that it was all a mistake, if not a deliberate +falsehood on my part, about her thinking Ian cared for her. Basil went +with her, not saying anything at all, except: + +"Good-bye, Barrie. Some day perhaps you'll understand and forgive me. I +always had a presentiment that I shouldn't be able to bring it off at +the last; that Somerled would cut in and snatch you away from me." + +Ian suggested taking me to Carlisle, only eight miles away, to stay with +Grandma until we could have a more conventional wedding. But when I +said, "_Aren't_ we really and truly married, then?" in a frightened +voice, he said, "Of course we are, my darling child--married as fast as +if by book and bell. Nothing can part us. I shall never let you go out +of my sight for five minutes after this--unless you want to go." + +"But I don't," I said. And a sudden thought came to me. I told him I +wished he would take me to Sweetheart Abbey. If it had been appropriate +to spend the first night of the heather moon there, as Mrs. James had +said, it would be still more appropriate to spend the first night of the +honeymoon. + +We bade the old man of the house good-bye and he shook hands with us +both. Ian gave him something which made him exclaim, "I thank you +kindly, indeed, sir! And I must say, if you'll excuse the liberty, I +never wanted the other gentleman to get her, sir. I felt in my bones +there was something wrong, so I kept on asking questions to delay the +thing. If I hadn't done that, it would all have been fixed up before you +came along." + +"If it had been, I should have taken her away from him, anyhow," said +Ian, "because she was my wife, and she couldn't have been his." + +"Not _exactly_ your wife, sir," the old man tried to explain, taking him +literally. "But----" + +"If not in law she was in heart, and she was meant for me from the +beginning of time," said Ian. + +Then we went out to the dear Gray Dragon, which was white with dust, and +so was dear Vedder. + +"It's all right," Ian said to the stolid-looking fellow; and Vedder +answered, "Hurrah to heaven, sir!" which was a very queer expression, +but I liked it, and loved him for it. Basil used to say that chauffeurs +are a strange new race of men, but I think they are splendid. I hoped +that Ian would double Vedder's wages, and afterward he did. + +We drove fast to Sweetheart Abbey, with the heather moon in the east, a +sweet, pale, thin-cheeked moon, past her prime of youth, but more +beautiful and kind than ever. As we flew along the empty road, the Gray +Dragon purring with joy in our joy, rabbits ran ahead of us, like tiny +messengers impatient to tell the good news of what had happened. Our +big, white headlight turned them into bouncing, gray balls, and there +were dozens of them, tearing along just in front of us sometimes, but we +would not have killed or hurt one for its weight in gold. + +Ian took for us at the inn the very rooms he had taken before for Mrs. +James and me; and in his arms, with no lamplight but the heather moon +smiling through the window at us, I told him about my dream of his +bringing me the locked ebony and silver box, which could be opened only +with the rainbow key. + +"It was a true dream, my darling," he said. "My heart was locked up in a +box for many years, and nobody but you could have opened it, for you are +_you_, and you have the key of the rainbow in your little hands. Never +will the box be locked again. Now my heart doesn't need, doesn't want a +box, because it is forever in your keeping." + +There, at Sweetheart Abbey, in the little inn where I first began to ask +myself if Ian were not the One Man beside whom all others were shadows, +we told each other things and explained things that had seemed +mysterious. + +I told him how I had worshipped him from the beginning, and couldn't +help going on to care more and more, though I feared that he liked Mrs. +West, and thought of me only as a child. "But I wasn't a child," I said. +"From the first minute I loved you I was a woman." + +"You must have been a baby, or you would never have thought for a second +that I or any man could remember Mrs. West's existence when you were +there," he said scornfully. But as he was holding me very tightly in his +arms, the scorn did not hurt. "How you could believe her, when she told +you that what I did for you was from duty, I can't conceive. If you were +the heroine of one of Basil's novels there might be some excuse for you. +Heroines of stories always believe any wild thing the villain or +villainess chooses to tell them, but a real girl, with brains and eyes +and at least some common sense----" + +"Do you think when you're in love your common sense can stay on top?" I +asked. "It seemed too good to be true that you could love me, and she +was far more fascinating than I! And you knew and liked her first, and +had asked her to take a long motor trip with you: and it _was_ true that +you quarrelled about me. Looking back it all seemed so natural, +especially remembering how you kept away from me and schemed--actually +_schemed_--to have me go about with other men, why shouldn't I believe a +woman _much_ older than I, when she _cried_ as she told me the story? +Why, at this very place, after you'd been so heavenly to me in the +Abbey, you were horrid next day, almost cross: and so you were often. +You hurt my feelings a dozen times a day, and every other man I saw was +kinder." + +"Because they weren't fighting a great fight with themselves, as I was," +he said, holding me a little more closely, if possible. "They, the +selfish chaps, were letting themselves go. I was saying to myself, +'Perhaps I'm too old and hard for her. I'm the first man she's ever +known. I must give her a chance to see and talk with others. For her own +sake, I mustn't yield to temptation and try to snatch her away from the +rest. Norman must have his chance. Douglas must have his chance. The +American boys must have theirs----' and by Jove, you seemed to like +giving it to them! You nearly drove me out of my mind." + +"I thought you were being bored with me." + +"You darling, adorable little idiot, as if a man could be bored with +you!" + +"I didn't know." + +"Well, you know now. I was nearly mad in Edinburgh, but I stuck to my +principles. I wanted to be sure one way or the other. But Norman had no +gratitude. He used your mother to help him against me----" + +"That was Mrs. West, I think, who used her." + +"Don't defend the fellow. It was both of them. They--and James sending +for his wife--drove me into a corner. But I wasn't going to be swept off +the board without a struggle. I meant from the beginning to fight for +you, if I saw a gleam of interest in your eyes for me, and sometimes I +thought I did see it. But thanks to Mrs. Bal MacDonald, they'd got you +in their clutches, those two. It suddenly occurred to me when I lost +Mrs. James, to go and get your grandmother--bring her by force if she +wouldn't come. I knew she had a sneaking kindness for me, as a MacDonald +man. There was a queer bond of sympathy between us, which we'd both felt +when we met. All our worst faults are alike. I dashed off to +Carlisle--quickest way, by train, and threw myself on the old lady's +mercy--told her everything. She was a trump, though perhaps her desire +to help was as much a wish to thwart her daughter-in-law as anything +else. She was too rheumatic to come with me in the car. I suppose it was +a wild scheme! But she herself suggested my going to London to invite +the MacDonalds. She thought, if I offered inducements--and she was +right. It was an inspiration on her part." + +"But," I broke in, "isn't it glorious not to have chaperons at all?" + +He didn't answer in words. Yet he made me understand in a far more +emphatic and satisfactory way, that he agreed. + +"You can imagine what I felt when you coolly went off from Ballachulish +with Norman and his sister," Ian went on. "Then I _did_ think it was all +up--that I had been a fool for my hopes and my pains, till dear old +Vedder hummed and hawed and apologized for taking a liberty, and +mentioned that Salomon had boasted he was going to get his 'party' to +Gretna Green in the shortest time on record. 'It's a plot!' I said to +myself, as Mrs. James had warned me. And five minutes later Vedder and I +and the Gray Dragon were off at a pace--well, I'm afraid we exceeded the +legal limit most of the way; but the gods looked after us." + +"And so did the heather moon!" I added. + + * * * * * + +Now we are at Dhrum, our own dear purple island set in a sea of gold; +but first we went back to Carlisle and visited Grandma; and to please +her and Ian, I consented to be married all over again, in church, with a +special license and everything such as the conventional bride does, +though it seemed treacherous to that happy moment at Gretna Green, which +was like heaven after the valley of death. Grandma was wonderful to Ian, +and very nearly nice to me. Not an unkind word did she say of Barbara, +and she didn't even refer to my running away. + +"You have had the sense to choose a real man, and the good fortune to +win him. I'd hardly have thought it of you. A MacDonald too!" she +remarked. And I almost loved her. Mrs. Muir made us a wedding cake, +which she insisted on our taking away, in a large tin box: and when we +left Hillard House, Heppie's nose was pinker than I ever saw it, which +is saying a good deal. + +Aline West was married to Mr. George Vanneck the very day we started +from Carlisle for Dhrum. We saw an account of the wedding in the paper. +It was at Glasgow; and she was going to a lovely place called St. +Fillans for her honeymoon. Basil gave her away, and was to return +immediately after to Canada, "on business." + +It is like a dream to be living in the vast, turreted gray castle of our +ancestors, looking out over an endless sea, and to be the mistress of +such a house--I, little Barrie MacDonald, the princess rescued from a +glass retort. But it is a true dream. Ian says that he won me by a kind +of fraud, as the first Somerled won his Pictish princess; because we +weren't really married by that game we played with the photograph people +at Gretna Green. Only, he made up his mind even then, that if the wrong +man ever got a hold upon me, he would use the episode to frighten him +away. How thankful I am that it happened! If it hadn't, perhaps I should +have missed my happiness: but Ian says no, he would have snatched me +from Basil somehow, if not in one way, then in another. Poor Basil, I +can afford to remember him with forgiveness, and even a kind of +tenderness now! I think he always hated himself in his heart for doing +what he did. But tragedy came so near for a few hours that sometimes, if +Ian is separated from me for a moment, we have to rush to find each +other, and say "It's true--after all!" + +At Dunelin Castle there are all the things I used to wish for: MacDonald +tartan on the walls and floors of many rooms; and torn, faded MacDonald +banners hanging in the dimness high up on the stone walls of the great +dining-hall--where we never dine. Pipers pipe us away in the morning, +and the skirl of the pipes mingles with the crying of gulls and the boom +of the sea in a thrilling way. The old servants look as if they had +never been born and could never die. They are delightfully superstitious +and quaint, and not one of them would kill a spider. Neither would I, +for the matter of that! I suppose it's my MacDonald blood and my love of +Bruce. You ought to see the elaborate precautions that are taken to get +rid of a spider in Dunelin Castle without insulting or hurting its +feelings! + +Ian always wears the kilt; and if I hadn't loved him as much as I +possibly could before, I should have fallen in love with him all over +again the day I saw him in it first. He is painting my portrait in the +Gretna Green costume; and when we are tired, we take long walks +together, I in a short tweed, with my hair down my back, Ian in the +kilt. Our favourite tramp is to a mysterious, hidden lake, surrounded +with rugged black mountains like petrified guardian-dragons watching a +treasure. This wild, mountain walled lake is called the "Heart of +Dhrum," and Ian says it is no more wild or savage or dark with clouds +than _his_ heart used to be every day when he was giving other men their +chance with me. He says, too, that if the lady who used to be imprisoned +in a fearful dungeon under the dining-hall at Dunelin, and fed only with +salt beef, had been Aline West it would have served her right. He would +have given her no sympathy, but a great deal of salt and very little +beef. But of course he does not mean that. His heart overflows with +kindness for all humanity nowadays, and it never was hard really. He +finds the world a glorious place with very few faults; but he says it is +I who have taught him this lesson, and that I should be able to make a +skeleton-ghost, condemned to clank chains in an underground prison +through eternity, see his fate in a rose-coloured light. I love him to +say foolish things. And I love him when he says nothing at all, but only +looks at me. + +He has taught me to dance the Highland fling. I do it with my hair down, +while the pipers pipe; and Ian cries Hoo! and Ha! and claps his hands, +as we dance, like the true Highlander he is. He was splendid in the +Games Week; for he could do the great jumps and "put" the stones as well +as the best of the Skye men who came over to compete with the men of +Dhrum. And here at Dunelin, where we danced reels till morning, on the +night of the ball we gave, he danced everybody else down--except me. + + * * * * * + +This castle, which my fierce ancestors built nearly a thousand years +ago, is a fairy castle for me and for Ian. It is all our own now, to +have and to hold, because he has bought it, so it will belong to a +MacDonald while it and the world lasts--I pray. We shall go to live in +America, where I hope Barbara may let me see her sometimes; but we shall +have this fairy island of purple and gold to come back to always, the +hidden home of our hearts. + +I used to ask myself, when the heather moon vanished behind a mountain +or into the sea, in what secret place she lurked while she hid from the +world? Now I know that the purple island of Dhrum is her fastness, and +that because she loved us she brought us safely here, together. + +I wonder sometimes if Basil will ever write his romance of our +journeyings and adventures under the heather moon--months or years from +now, when he has forgotten to be sad, and is only pleasantly romantic, +as when I knew him first? Ian says he will never write it, because if he +did, he would have to be the villain; and no man ever yet made himself +the villain of his own book. Perhaps that is true. But I do not think +there ought to be a real villain in a story about a rainbow key and a +heather moon. + + +THE END + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Heather-Moon, by +C. N. Williamson and A. M. 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N. Williamson and A. M. Williamson + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Heather-Moon + +Author: C. N. Williamson and A. M. Williamson + +Release Date: November 9, 2006 [EBook #19742] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HEATHER-MOON *** + + + + +Produced by Alicia Williams, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="HM_cover" id="HM_cover"></a> +<img src="images/HM_cover.png" alt=""/> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + +<h1>The Heather-Moon</h1> + +<h2>By C. N. & A. M. WILLIAMSON</h2> + +<h3>Authors of "The Guests of Hercules," "The Princess Virginia." "The Motor +Maid." etc.</h3> + +<h4>A. L. BURT COMPANY<br /> +<span class="smcap">Publishers New York</span></h4> + +<h4><i>Copyright, 1912, by</i> C. N. & A. M. <span class="smcap">Williamson</span></h4> + +<h4><i>All rights reserved, including that of translation into Foreign +Languages, including the Scandinavian.</i></h4> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<!-- Autogenerated TOC. Modify or delete as required. --> +<p> +<a href="#BOOK_I">BOOK I: THE PRELUDE: AND THE PEOPLE</a><br /> +<a href="#I">I</a><br /> +<a href="#II">II</a><br /> +<a href="#III">III</a><br /> +<a href="#IV">IV</a><br /> +<a href="#V">V</a><br /> +<a href="#VI">VI</a><br /> +<a href="#VII">VII</a><br /> +<a href="#VIII">VIII</a><br /> +<a href="#IX">IX</a><br /><br /> +<a href="#BOOK_II">BOOK II: ACCORDING TO BARRIE</a><br /><br /> +<a href="#Ia">I</a><br /> +<a href="#IIa">II</a><br /> +<a href="#IIIa">III</a><br /> +<a href="#IVa">IV</a><br /> +<a href="#Va">V</a><br /> +<a href="#VIa">VI</a><br /> +<a href="#VIIa">VII</a><br /> +<a href="#VIIIa">VIII</a><br /><br /> +<a href="#BOOK_III">BOOK III: BASIL'S PLOT AND "MRS. BAL"</a><br /><br /> +<a href="#Ic">I</a><br /><br /> +<a href="#BOOK_IV">BOOK IV: WHAT BECAME OF BARRIE</a><br /><br /> +<a href="#Id">I</a><br /> +<a href="#IId">II</a><br /> +<a href="#IIId">III</a><br /> +<a href="#IVd">IV</a><br /> +</p> +<!-- End Autogenerated TOC. --> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="BOOK_I" id="BOOK_I"></a>BOOK I</h2> + +<h3>THE PRELUDE: AND THE PEOPLE</h3> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="I" id="I"></a>I</h2> + + +<p>For the first time in her life, Barrie saw the door that led to the +garret stairs standing ajar. It was always, always locked, as is +correct, though irritating, for a door that leads to Fairyland.</p> + +<p>In Barrie's Outer Life that her grandmother knew, and Miss Hepburn knew, +and Mrs. Muir the housekeeper knew, there was—Heaven be praised!—no +romance at all; for romance is an evil thing, still worse, a frivolous +thing, which may be avoided for a well-brought-up girl though +whopping-cough may not; and already this same evil had wrought vast +damage among the MacDonalds of Dhrum. In the Inner Life of Barrie, +however, there was nothing worth thinking about except romance; and the +door of the garret stairs was one of the principal roads to the +forbidden land.</p> + +<p>She stopped in front of it. At first she could not believe her eyes. Her +heart had given a glorious bound, which, only to have felt once in its +full ecstasy, was worth the bother of being born into a family where +there were no mothers or fathers, but only—ah, what an awesome +only!—grim old Grandma MacDonald and Grandma MacDonald's grim old house +where Carlisle ends and moorlands begin.</p> + +<p>It is difficult to be sure of things when your heart is beating nineteen +to the dozen, and the special thing, or mirage of a thing, +seems—judging from all else that has happened in Outer Life—much too +good to be true. Yet there it was, that streak of dull, mote-misted +gold, painting what actually appeared to be a crack between the dark +frame of the door and the dark old door itself—just such gold as Barrie +had seen at least once a day ever since she could remember (except when +mumps and measles kept her in bed) by applying an eye to the keyhole. +"Fairy gold" she had named it.</p> + +<p>The only person who ever went into the garret was Mrs. Muir, and though +she had the air of making no secret of such expeditions, it had always +struck Barrie as deliciously, thrillingly strange that invariably she +turned the key of the stairway door upon herself the instant she was on +the other side, and religiously performed the same ceremony on letting +herself out. "Ceremony" really was the word, because the key was large, +ancient, and important-looking, and squeaked sepulchrally while it +turned. Barrie knew all this, because in spring and autumn, when Mrs. +Muir paid her visits to fairylands forlorn beyond the oak door, Barrie +lurked under cover of the convenient, thick, and well-placed shadow +behind the grandfather clock on the landing.</p> + +<p>It was not autumn now, which was part of the mystery, after these +endless years of routine (they seemed endless to Barrie at eighteen), +and she would certainly have missed the event had this not been her +keyhole hour.</p> + +<p>Somehow she had become aware—through heredity and race memory, no +doubt—that looking through keyholes was caddish, a trick unworthy of +any lady who was at heart a gentleman. But there are exceptions to all +keyholes, and this was one, because, as none save ghosts and fairies +lived or moved behind it in the garret, there was nobody to spy upon. +You looked through to stimulate the romance in your starved soul and +save it from death by inanition, because if romance died, then indeed +the Outer Life at Hillard House would be no longer bearable.</p> + +<p>Barrie paid her respects to the keyhole o' mornings, for two reasons. +The first and commonplace reason was because Mrs. Muir was busy +downstairs and had no eye to spare to see whether other eyes were glued +to the wrong places. The second and more charming reason was because in +the morning the golden haze floated behind the keyhole like shimmering +water with the sun shining deep into it. By afternoon there was nothing +left to peer into but cold gray shadow, which meant that the fairies and +other inhabitants were not at home.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Muir's motive for visiting the garret out of season was a simple +one, but it was well that Barrie did not know this, for it was not at +all interesting, and would have broken the music, thrown cold water on +the thrill. Moths, no respecters of persons or judges of high religious +reputations, had dared to nest in Mrs. MacDonald's best black cashmere +dress, which had not been worn and would not be worn, except on great +occasions, until next season, and had mechanically reduced it to the +rate of second best. Moth-powder and moth-balls were exhausted in +downstairs regions, but there was a store of both in the garret; and in +her annoyance at having to ascend at an unprecedented time, and her +vexation at an accident such as must happen in the best regulated +families, Mrs. Muir had hurriedly returned with the wanted box, +forgetting to lock the door.</p> + +<p>Barrie could not be sure that the housekeeper was not even now in the +garret; but she had to find out: and the awful thrill of uncertainty +made her next step a high adventure, the adventure of her life. It was a +step onto the garret stairs, and though it meant dangers of all sorts, +she risked them every one, and closed the door behind her. You see, if +she had not done this, any person passing along the landing—a person +such as Grandma, or Janet Hepburn—would at once have seen the streak of +gold, a mere yellow crack to them, and then and there would have arisen +a clamour for the key.</p> + +<p>Even with the door closed the risk remained in a lesser degree. Mrs. +Muir, if she were not at this moment in the garret, might suddenly +remember that she had left the door ajar, taking away the key; then she +would rush back like a stout round whirlwind, and in a minute more +Barrie would be a prisoner, almost like the fair bride in "The Mistletoe +Bough," only there was more air in the garret than in the oak chest that +shut with a spring. But Barrie was used to taking risks—risks +insignificant compared with this, yet big enough to supply salt and +sugar for the dry daily bread of existence.</p> + +<p>The door shut softly, but—mercy, what creaks those steps had in them! +They seemed to be vying with each other, the heartless brutes, as to +which could shriek the loudest under a girl's light foot. Probably they +had never seen a girl before, or if they had, it was so long ago they +had forgotten. Fancy Grandma a girl! No wonder, if the steps remembered +her, that they yelled——But by this time Barrie's head had arrived at +the top of the steep stairs, and her eyes were peering cautiously +through clouds of gold dust along the level of a floor, mountainous in +its far horizon with piled chests, trunks, and furniture.</p> + +<p>The gold poured through three very high, small dormer-windows which +until now Barrie had known only from outside, staring up at the ivied +house wall from the east garden. The dust lived in the garret air, and +was different from, more wonderful and mysterious than, any other dust, +except perhaps the dust far off in the distance at sunset, where +motor-cars you could not see passed along a road invisible.</p> + +<p>Barrie couldn't be quite certain at first whether the garret was empty +of human life, or whether Mrs. Muir was likely to pounce upon her with +reproaches from behind one of those immense oak posts which went up like +trees to meet the high beamed roof. Or she might be concealed by an +oasis of furniture. There were several such oases in the large +wilderness of garret, which covered the whole upper story of the old +house. But a lovely garret it was, a heavenly garret! even better than +Barrie had dreamed it might be, with her eye at the keyhole of the +stairway door. It was peopled with possibilities—glorious, echoing, +beckoning possibilities—which made her heart beat as she could not +remember its beating before.</p> + +<p>She climbed the remaining steps regardless of squeaks, because she could +not any longer bear the suspense concerning Mrs. Muir. Nothing moved in +answer to the old wood's complainings, and there was no other sound, or +rather there were no real sounds such as are made by people; but when +Barrie reached the head of the stairs the whole garret was full, to her +ears, of delicate rustlings and whisperings, sighs and footfalls and +breathings, and scurryings out of sight.</p> + +<p>No, Mrs. Muir was not here, or by this time she would be out in the open +and scolding hard.</p> + +<p>Barrie drew in deep breaths of the strange, still atmosphere which was +like air that had been put to sleep years and years ago. It must have +smelt exactly like this, she thought quietly, in the lost palace of La +Belle Dormante when the Prince found his way in through barricading +thickets. Barrie would hardly have been surprised if she had stumbled +upon a Sleeping Beauty. If she had, she would have said to herself, "So +that's the secret Mrs. Muir's been hiding, by keeping the door locked +up. I <i>told</i> you so!"</p> + +<p>The scent of the garret fascinated Barrie, and made her heart beat +heavily, as if she were on the threshold of a mystery. It was made up of +many odours: a faint, not unpleasant mustiness, the smell of dust, a +perfume of old potpourri, and spices, cloves, and camphor for moths, a +vague fragrance of rosewood and worm-eaten oak, a hint of beeswax, a +tang of unaired leather and old books.</p> + +<p>Barrie suddenly felt perfectly happy. For to-day this wonderful place +with all its secrets was hers. She hardly knew what to explore first. +All the really interesting things in the house seemed to have risen to +the top, like cream on milk. Along a part of one wall opposite the +stairs and under the east windows whence came the morning gold were +ranged rough old bookcases, a kind of alms-house for indigent books, or +a prison for condemned volumes. But what books! Barrie was drawn to them +as by many magnets, and almost tremulously taking down one after +another, she understood the reason of their banishment. Here were all +the darling books which used to live down in the library, and had been +exiled because she dipped into them, they being (according to Grandma +and Miss Hepburn) "most unsuitable for nice-minded girls." Barrie had +mourned her friends as dead, but they had been only sleeping. And there +were others, apparently far more unsuitable for nice-minded girls—old +leather-bound books with quaint wood engravings and thick yellow pages +printed with old-fashioned "s's" like "f's." Barrie could have browsed +among this company for hours, but there were so many things to see in +the garret, so little time for seeing them, that she felt compelled +merely to say "How do you do, and good-bye," to each allurement.</p> + +<p>Her eyes, roaming like a pair of crusading knights in search of romance, +lighted suddenly on a pile or group of furniture in a distant corner. +There was other furniture in the garret, certainly more interesting to a +connoisseur and hunter of antiquities; but Barrie was neither. She had +contrived to seize upon a good deal of queer miscellaneous knowledge +outside lesson hours, yet she did not know the difference between +Sheraton and Hepplewhite. Chairs and sideboards and settees of Georgian +days and earlier had been relegated to this vast pound of unwanted +things, while their places were dishonourably filled downstairs by +mid-Victorian monstrosities which Mrs. MacDonald instinctively approved, +no doubt because they could offer no temptation to the eye. Barrie might +have felt the beauty of the graceful lines if she had given her +attention to these scattered relics of a past before there was a +Grandma; but a group of very different furniture beckoned her curiosity.</p> + +<p>The fact that there was a group, and that it seemed in the dimness to be +alike in colour and design, suggested mystery of some sort; and, +besides, it was almost impossible to imagine such furniture adorning +this house.</p> + +<p>Evidently it had been taken bodily out of one room. Why? As she asked +herself this question Barrie threaded her way delicately along narrow +paths between chairs, extraordinary leather or hairy cowhide trunks and +thrilling bandboxes of enormous size, made quaintly beautiful with +Chinese wall-paper. She wanted to examine the grouped furniture whose +pale coverings and gilded wood glimmered attractively even in the +darkest corner of the garret.</p> + +<p>It certainly was the darkest and farthest. Was this a coincidence, or +had there been a special reason for huddling these things out of sight? +There was not even a clear path to them, though there seemed to have +been method in planning most of the lanes that led from one luggage or +furniture village to another. Nothing led to this village built against +a wall. Its site was in a no-thoroughfare, and, perhaps by design, +perhaps by accident, a barricade had been erected before it; not a very +high barricade, but a wall or series of stumbling-blocks made up of +useless litter. If there could be a special corner of disgrace in this +land where all things were under decree of banishment, here was the +corner.</p> + +<p>By means of crawling over, under, and between numerous strangely +assorted objects which formed the barricade, the intruder arrived, +somewhat the worse for wear, at her destination. The furniture village +was composed, she discovered, of a set of blue satin-covered chairs and +sofas, with elaborately carved and gilded frames. There were tables to +match, and an empty glass cabinet, two long mirrors with marble brackets +underneath, also a highly ornamental chest of drawers and a bedstead of +gilded cane and wood, with cupids holding garlands of carved roses.</p> + +<p>Barrie began talking to herself half aloud, according to +long-established habit. "Good gracious me!" she exclaimed so inelegantly +that it was well Miss Hepburn could not hear. "What things to find in +this house! They're like—like canary birds in an ironmonger's shop. Who +could have owned them?"</p> + +<p>Suddenly the answer flashed into her head, and sent the blood to her +face as if she had received a stinging slap such as Grandma used to +give: "These things were my mother's!"</p> + +<p>How insulting that these traces of the vanished one should have been +hustled into a dingy hole where no self-righteous eyes could be offended +by the sight of them! How frivolous and daintily young they looked, even +in their dusty and (Barrie was furiously sure) undeserved disgrace! This +was the secret of the locked garret!</p> + +<p>The girl occasionally had moments of hatred for Grandma: moments when +she thought it would have delighted her to see the grim old Puritan +scoffed at and humiliated, or even tortured. At the picture of torture, +however, Barrie's heart invariably failed, and in fancy she rescued the +victim. But never had she hated Mrs. MacDonald so actively as now.</p> + +<p>"My mother!" she said again. "How dared the wicked old creature be such +a brute to her!"</p> + +<p>For Barrie was certain that these were relics of her mother's presence +in the house. She knew the history of every other woman who had ever +lived here since the place was built in the seventeenth century by an +Alexander Hillard, an ancestor of Grandma's. A forbidding old prig he +must have been, judging from the portrait over the dining-room +mantelpiece, a worthy forbear of Ann Hillard, who had married Barrie's +grandfather, John MacDonald of Dhrum. Barrie often said to herself that +she did not feel related to Grandma. She wanted to be all MacDonald +and—whatever her mother had been. But it was just that which she did +not know, and not a soul would tell. This was her grievance, the great +and ever-burning grievance as well as mystery of her otherwise +commonplace existence; a conspiracy of silence which kept the secret +under lock and key.</p> + +<p>Because of Mrs. MacDonald's "taboo," Barrie's mother had become her +ideal. The girl felt that whatever Grandma disapproved must be beautiful +and lovable; and there had been enough said, as well as enough left +unsaid whenever dumbness could mean condemnation, to prove that the old +woman had detested her daughter-in-law.</p> + +<p>All Barrie knew about the immediate past of her family was that her +father's people had once been rich, and as important as their name +implied. They were the MacDonalds of Dhrum, an island not far from Skye, +but they had lost their money; and while old Mrs. MacDonald was still a +young married woman (it seemed incredible that she could have been +young!) she and her husband, with their one boy, had come to her old +home near Carlisle. This one boy had grown up to marry—Somebody, or, +according to the standards of Grandma, Nobody, a creature beyond the +pale. The bride must have died soon, for even Barrie's elastic memory, +which could recall first steps taken alone and first words spoken +unprompted, had no niche in it for a mother's image, though father's +portrait was almost painfully distinct. It presented a young man very +tall, very thin, very sad, very dark. The frame for this portrait was +the black oak of the library wainscoting, picked out with the faded gold +on backs of books in a uniform binding of brown leather. Once a day +Barrie had been escorted by her nurse to the door of the library and +left to the tender mercies of this sad young man, who raised his eyes +resignedly from reading or writing to emit a "How do you do?" as if she +were a grown-up stranger. After this question and a suitable reply, not +much conversation followed, for neither could think of anything to say. +After an interval of strained politeness, the child was dismissed to +play or lessons—generally lessons, even from the first, for play had +never been considered of importance in Hillard House. It was nobler, in +the estimation of Grandma, and perhaps of father, to learn how to spell +"the fat cat sat on the black rug," rather than to sprawl personally on +the black rug, sporting in company with the fat cat.</p> + +<p>One day, Barrie remembered, she had been told that father was ill and +she could not bid him good morning. She had been treacherously glad, for +father was depressing; but when days passed and she was still kept from +him, it occurred to her that after all father was much, much nicer than +Grandma, and that his eyes, though sad, were kind. The next and last +time she ever saw him, the kind sad eyes were shut, and he was lying in +a queer bed, like a box. He was white as a doll made of porcelain which +he had once given her, and Grandma, who led the child into his room, +said that he was dead. The sleeping figure in the box was only the body, +and the soul had gone to heaven. Heaven, according to Grandma, who wore +black and had red rims round her eyes, was a place high up above the sky +where if you were a sheep you played constantly on a harp and sang +songs. If you were a goat, you did not get there at all, which might +have been preferable, except for the fact that being a goat doomed you +to burn in everlasting fire. Sheep were saved, goats were damned; and, +of course, the sheep must be deserving and clever if they had learned to +sing and play on harps.</p> + +<p>Barrie thought she could have been no more than three when her father +died, but she never cared to question Grandma concerning the episode, +after a day when Mrs. MacDonald said in an icy voice, "Your mother was +before God guilty of your father's death." That was years ago now, but +Barrie had not forgotten the shock, or the hateful, thwarted feeling, +almost like suffocation, when Grandma had answered an outbreak of hers +with the words, "The less you know about your mother the better for you. +And the less like her you grow up, the more chance you will have of +escaping punishment in this world and the next."</p> + +<p>Barrie believed that her mother's hair must have been red, for once she +had heard nurse say to Mrs. Muir, "No wonder the sight of the child's a +daily eyesore to the mistress; what with them identical dimples, and +hair of the selfsame shade, it must be a living reminder of what we'd +all be glad to forget." Barrie's hair was extremely red; and it had been +intimated to her that no red-haired girl could have cause for vanity, +because to such unfortunates beauty was denied; but loyalty to the +unknown mother forbade the child to hate her copper-coloured locks.</p> + +<p>In a room decorated with pale blue satin, red hair might perhaps +simulate gold. The furniture was quite new-looking and unless there had +been some special reason, no mere change of taste would have induced +economical Grandma to make a clean sweep of these practically unused +things.</p> + +<p>A tall mirror with its wooden back turned outward helped to screen the +furniture; and deep under the dusty surface of the glass Barrie saw her +own figure dimly reflected, like a form moving stealthily in water +beneath thin ice. It half frightened her, like seeing a spirit, and she +brought the gliding ghost to life by polishing the glass. This gave her +back suddenly the only friend she had, herself, and she was glad of the +companionship. Close to the huddled furniture stood a large trunk, a +Noah's Ark of a trunk. Perhaps it was old-fashioned, but compared to +other luggage stored here in the garret it was new and defiantly smart. +It had a rounded top, and was made of gray painted wood clamped with +iron.</p> + +<p>Too good to be true that it should not be locked! And yes, locked it +was, of course. But tied to the iron handle on one end was a key. It +seemed as if some one had thought that the trunk might be sent for, and +therefore the key must be kept handy. The knot was easily undone. The +key fitted the lock. Her heart beating fast, Barrie lifted the lid, and +up to her nostrils floated a faint fragrance. She had never smelled any +perfume quite like it before. The nearest thing was the scent of a +certain rose in the garden when its petals were dried, as she dried them +sometimes for a bowl in her own room.</p> + +<p>It was deep twilight in this corner, but Barrie's eyes were accustoming +themselves to the gloom. In the tray of the big trunk there were hats, +and masses of something fluffy and soft, yet crisp like gauze. "My +mother's things!" she said to herself in a very little voice, with a +catch of the breath at the word "mother." And gently she lifted out the +tray, to carry it nearer the light. There was a cartwheel of a Leghorn +hat in it, wreathed with cornflowers; another hat of white tulle trimmed +with a single waterlily, and a queer little bonnet made of +forget-me-nots. The fluffy stuff was a large blue scarf spangled with +pinkish sequins.</p> + +<p>Barrie rested the tray on a marble-topped table, and dipped deep into +the trunk for other treasures. There were several dresses, of delicate +materials and pale shades, or else of daring colours elaborately +trimmed. There was a gown of coral-tinted satin embroidered with gold, +and this was of Empire fashion, so like the styles which Barrie saw in +illustrated papers that it might have been made yesterday. Could a +red-haired woman have chosen to wear such a colour? For a moment the +girl doubted that these had been her mother's possessions; but when she +held the folds of satin under her own chin, she was startled by the +picture in the mirror. Why, coral was far more becoming than blue, which +Miss Hepburn always said was the only colour to go with red hair. It +even occurred to Barrie that she might perhaps be—well, almost pretty.</p> + +<p>"What if I <i>am</i> pretty, after all?" she asked herself; for she +worshipped beauty, and it had been sad to feel that to her it was denied +forever—that never could she be like one of those lovely beings in +books with whom men fall desperately in love, and for whom they gladly +die.</p> + +<p>In great excitement she took off her short, badly made blue serge, and +put on the coral satin, which was low in the neck, and had tiny puffed +sleeves. The dress fastened at the back, but Barrie had grown clever in +"doing up" her own frocks without help, and she easily managed the few +hooks and eyes. The satin was creased, but in the dim light it looked +fresh and beautiful as the petals of some gorgeous flower, and the long, +straight-hanging gown with magic suddenness turned the childlike girl +into a young woman. The two massive tails of hair, which fell over +Barrie's shoulders, ending in thick curls at her waist, now offended her +sense of fitness. They were not "grown up" enough to suit the wearer of +this fairy robe; and crossing the braids at the back of her head, she +brought them round it over her ears, tying the two curls together in a +sort of bow at the top.</p> + +<p>"I'm like Cinderella dressed for the ball," she thought, "all except the +glass slippers," and she glanced down distastefully at the thick, +serviceable boots whose toes pointed out from under a line of gold +embroidery.</p> + +<p>There must once have been shoes to match this dress. Perhaps they were +at the bottom of the big trunk, whose depths she had not yet reached. +Bending down for another search, she caught sight of something in the +background which she had not seen—a large picture with its face against +the wall.</p> + +<p>Instantly Barrie forgot the shoes. Her heart jumped as it had jumped +when she first saw the key in the door of the garret stairs. Would they +have turned to the wall in this dark corner any picture save one? The +girl knew that in another moment she would be looking at the portrait of +her mother.</p> + +<p>To get at it, she had to shut the trunk and climb on the rounded lid, +for the big wooden Noah's Ark was too heavy to lift, and too firmly +wedged in among large pieces of furniture to be pushed out of the way. +Kneeling on the trunk, regardless of her finery, Barrie grasped the +picture frame with both hands and pulled it up from its narrow +hiding-place. Then, scrambling down, she backed out into a space clear +enough to permit of turning the picture, round. Then she could not help +giving a little cry, for it seemed that she was beholding a miracle. Her +own face, her own figure, the very dress she wore, and the odd way she +had looped up her red braids, were repeated on the dusty canvas.</p> + +<p>It seemed too wonderful to be true, yet it was true that she had chosen +to put on the gown in which its owner had long ago stood for her +portrait. And the knotted curls just above the picture-forehead were +like little ruddy leaping flames.</p> + +<p>Just at first glance Barrie thought that she was exactly like the +picture; but when she had wiped the dust off the canvas, and saw the +painting clearly, she began to realize and count the differences. The +portrait was that of a young woman, not a girl still almost a child. +Knowledge and love of the world glittered in the great dark eyes which +turned up ever so slightly at their outer corners in a curiously +bewitching way. Barrie's eyes were dark too, but they were hazel, and +could look gray or even greenish yellow in a bright light; but the eyes +in the picture were almost black, and full of a triumphing consciousness +of their own fascination. The artist had hinted at dimples, and these +Barrie's cheeks repeated; but the girl's face was in shape a delicate +oval, though the chin was as firm as if a loving thumb and finger had +pinched it into prominence. The face on the canvas was fuller, shorter, +squarer, and its chin was cleft in the middle. The mouth was smaller and +more pouting—a self-conscious, petulant mouth; but Barrie thought it +beautiful, with its flowerlike, half-smiling red lips.</p> + +<p>"Mother—mother!" she said, "darling, lovely mother! Oh, if you could +only talk to me! If you could only tell me all about yourself!"</p> + +<p>As she spoke aloud something moved in the garret: a board creaked, a +struck chair or table scraped along the uneven floor, and Mrs. Muir +appeared round a corner of the piled furniture. Barrie stiffened +herself, standing up straight and tall and defiant, ready for battle, +holding the portrait as if it were a shield. But she was not prepared to +see Mrs. Muir start back, stumbling against something which fell with a +sharp crash, nor to hear her give vent to a squeal of terror. It was +anger the girl had expected to rouse, not fear, and she faced the old +housekeeper from her distance in blank astonishment.</p> + +<p>They stood staring at each other across the shadows lit by floating +motes of gold; and Mrs. Muir's large, pallid face looked, Barrie +thought, as if it had been turned to gray stone, the gray stone of the +carved monuments in the family burial-ground. For a moment neither +spoke, but at last some words seemed to drop from the old woman's mouth, +rather than be deliberately uttered:</p> + +<p>"May God have mercy on me!"</p> + +<p>"What <i>is</i> the matter?" Barrie exclaimed, the strange spell broken; but +instead of answering, Mrs. Muir gasped, and then broke out crying, a +queer gurgly sort of crying which frightened the girl. She did not +dislike the housekeeper, and she was so genuinely distressed as well as +surprised at this strange exhibition, that she would have set down the +portrait to run to Mrs. Muir's succour if at that moment the stillness +of the garret had not been wakened by the tap, tap of a stick. Somebody +was coming up the stairs, hobbling, limping, yet hurrying with +extraordinary energy.</p> + +<p>There was only one person in the house, or maybe in the world, whose +coming made that noise, that mingled hobble, rush, and tap: Grandma.</p> + +<p>Barrie and Mrs. Muir continued to stare at one another, but their +expression had changed. The approach of a danger to be shared in common +had made the enemies friends. "This is going to be awful. What shall we +do?" the old eyes said to the young and the young eyes said to the old. +Mrs. Muir had forgotten her burning wish and intention to scold Miss +Barribel; nevertheless, the housekeeper was not to be trusted as an +ally. Under the lash of Mrs. MacDonald's tongue she would defend +herself, and Barrie would go to the wall. But the spirit of the martyr +was in the girl, and when the first dread thrill of the tap, tap on the +garret stairs had subsided in her nerves, she remembered her wrongs and +her mother's wrongs, and was not afraid of Grandma. She girded herself +for war.</p> + +<p>The tapping came nearer. Mrs. MacDonald was grievously crippled with +rheumatism. Only a strong incentive could have urged her up the steep +straight stairway, with its high steps; but Grandma was indomitable. +Lurching like a ship in a heavy sea, she swept round the corner and +brought herself to anchor by planting her stick with a crash on the wavy +oak floor. There she stood, the grim and hard old craft that had +weathered a hundred storms and refused to be dismayed by any. She must +have been alarmed by the housekeeper's scream and the crash of falling +furniture, and the figure in the coral satin dress was at least as +startling for her as for her old servant; but she gave no cry, and her +face looked as it always looked, hard, and stern, and passionless, as +her gray eyes travelled from granddaughter to housekeeper, from +housekeeper to granddaughter.</p> + +<p>"What is the meaning of this?" she inquired in her worst voice, which +Barrie always thought like the turning of a key in an unoiled lock.</p> + +<p>"This, ma'am?" quavered Mrs. Muir, unused to the pangs of guilty fear, +and bitterly ashamed of them. "Why, I'd been up here getting some more +moth-balls out of the chemist's store-box, and while I was gone Miss +Barribel——"</p> + +<p>"You must have left the stairway door unlocked, woman."</p> + +<p>"For the first time in my life, ma'am, I did." The answer was an appeal +for justice if not mercy. It was an awful thing to be called "woman" by +the mistress, and to be impaled on that sharp gray gaze never sheathed +behind spectacles. Mrs. Muir was not one to quail easily, but she had +been at fault, and she realized how her small sin of omission was +leading up to consequences more momentous than anything which had +happened in this house for seventeen years. In a flash she remembered, +too, that it was just seventeen years ago this month of August since the +first wearer of the coral satin had gone forever.</p> + +<p>"That is no excuse," said Mrs. MacDonald. "There are some things it is a +sin to forget. Locking the garret door is one, you well know why. Now +the mischief is done."</p> + +<p>"Who'd ha' dreamed, ma'am, that Miss Barribel would ha' bin on the watch +like a cat for a mouse——"</p> + +<p>"It's no question of dreaming, but experience. You ought to know as well +as I do that unfortunately the girl is always on the watch for anything +she ought not to see or do. It is in her blood. These many years I have +struggled to crush down inherited tendencies, and keep her on the +straight path I would have her father's daughter tread. Yet how have I +succeeded? Every day shows how little. This is only one instance among +many."</p> + +<p>The pale cold eyes, having chilled Mrs. Muir's blood, turned to do their +work of icing Barrie into subjection; but the girl's veins ran fire. For +once, Grandma was powerless to make her feel a frozen worm.</p> + +<p>"I wish I'd known before that my mother's things were here," she said, +in a clear, loud voice. "I'd have broken down the door to get to them. +They're mine—all mine. I will have them."</p> + +<p>"You will not," Mrs. MacDonald answered. "Set that portrait back where +you found it with its face to the wall. Take off that immodest, +outrageous dress, and put on your own decent one. Fold up the scarlet +abomination and lay it in the trunk with the rest of the brood."</p> + +<p>Somehow that word "brood" in connection with her lost mother's gay, +pretty garments made Barrie see her grandmother through a red haze. +"It's the things you say, not mother's lovely clothes, that are exactly +like a brood of horrid, ugly imps!" she cried. "Always you've kept +everything about her a secret from me, but you can't go on doing it now. +I've seen her beautiful picture. I know it's hers without any telling. +Nothing can make me believe it isn't, no matter what you say, either of +you. So you may as well tell me all about her. I won't move till you +do."</p> + +<p>"So be it, then," said Mrs. MacDonald in an iron voice. "The time had to +come some day. Let it be to-day, though for your father's sake I would +have spared you the knowledge until you reached your twenty-first year. +Do not flatter yourself that your threat 'not to move' has the smallest +effect on me. It has none. If I chose, I could force you to obey me this +instant, and put those reminders of sin out of my sight. But if you have +any sense of shame in you, any affection for your father's memory, it +will be the severest punishment I can inflict to tell you the truth +while you are wearing that dress and looking at the face of that +portrait."</p> + +<p>Despite her inward flame of fury, which did not wane, the girl was +struck into silence by her grandmother's tone and manner. She stood very +still and white in the coral satin.</p> + +<p>"You can go now, Muir," said Mrs. MacDonald. "What is to come must be +between me and my son's child."</p> + +<p>Without a word the housekeeper turned and went away. Perhaps she was +glad to escape. And now that her own scolding was over, there was +sympathy in the last look she threw the girl.</p> + +<p>There was a certain vague and very dim sense of gratitude in Barrie's +heart toward Mrs. MacDonald for what she had just done. For Barrie did +not want other ears to hear evil words spoken of her mother, and she was +sure that they would be spoken.</p> + +<p>Not until the stairs had ceased to creak under the departing feet did +Grandma again open her lips. She had seemed to be thinking intently, as +if making up her mind how to begin. Perhaps she was praying for +guidance, Barrie told herself; but the morning and evening prayers in +the dining-room with a few servants assembled were like harangues or +didactic instructions to Heaven rather than supplications. Barrie +thought that her grandmother had created a God for herself in her own +image, and considered that she had a right, therefore, to tell Him what +to do. Why should an all-good, all-wise God create a disagreeable, +unkind person like Grandma? It didn't stand to reason. And Miss Hepburn +was of opinion that God was indeed beneficent, in spite of those eternal +fires in which she, almost equally with Grandma, fervently believed.</p> + +<p>When there was no further sound of the housekeeper, Mrs. MacDonald began +to speak, slowly and very deliberately.</p> + +<p>"My son married against my will. His father was dead, and a woman's +authority was not enough, for he was stubborn, though a good son until +<i>she</i> got hold of him with her witcheries and her false charms. He met +her in London, and took her out of the theatre, where he had no business +to go; and if he never had gone, all our troubles would have been saved. +The woman was a play-actress—a light, frivolous creature with no more +sense of moral responsibility than a butterfly."</p> + +<p>"Butterflies are beautiful!" Barrie broke in. "God made them, I suppose, +just as much as He made ants, and I'm sure He loves them heaps better." +She thought of her grandmother as a big black ant, hoarding disagreeable +crumbs in a gloomy hole.</p> + +<p>Mrs. MacDonald went on as if she had not heard.</p> + +<p>"The woman married my son because he had money, and when she had spent +all she could lay her hands on—spent it on dresses and hats and every +kind of sinful vanity—she left him and his home, left her baby a year +old, to return to the theatre, I suppose. I thank God that I still had +influence with Robert my son to keep him from running after her like a +love-sick fool, and trying to bring her back to the decent home she had +disgraced. But his heart was broken by her wicked folly. Two years +they'd had together under this roof and the disappointments she had made +the boy suffer undermined his health. Two years more he was spared to +me, and then he was taken. Never once did your mother write to him or to +me, not so much as to ask whether her husband and child were alive or +dead. While Robert lived, her things remained in her room just as she +had left them the night she stole away like a thief, carrying only a +handbag. There was the furniture the poor bewitched man had bought +because he thought nothing in his mother's house was fit for his +wonderful bride. There were her clothes—the very dress you have on, +made on purpose to show off her brazen looks in a portrait she induced +my son to order from a painting man. There was everything, except her +jewels, which she was careful to take—jewels more fit for an empress of +a heathen nation than a self-respecting Englishwoman: and that is where +the root of the mischief lay. She wasn't English. I warned my son in the +beginning when he wrote of his infatuation. I said, 'It is bad enough +that she should be a play-actress; but the daughter of an <i>Irish father</i> +and an <i>American mother</i>, that is <i>fatal</i>!' He would not listen, and he +was punished for his obstinacy. You were no comfort to him, for, as I +pointed out many a time, you were bound to grow up the living image of +the woman who had betrayed us. I told him if he lived he'd have it all +to go over again in you—maybe worse, if that could be possible, for the +sins of the fathers are visited upon the children even to the third and +fourth——"</p> + +<p>"But I thought it was my mother I was like," Barrie flung at her.</p> + +<p>"Figuratively speaking, it is the same thing, as you well understand, +unless you are a fool. Your father was not strong enough to bear the +burden which his own mistakes had bound on his shoulders. He left the +responsibility of bringing up that woman's daughter to me, and under +Heaven I have done my best. I have kept you away from vanities, hoping +that in spite of all you might remain unspotted from the world. But +blood will tell. To-day I find that, as your mother before you stole +like a thief out of the house, so you have stolen into this place, which +was forbidden you, to gratify your curiosity and your vanity. I find you +as bold as brass parading in that low-necked red dress, which I told +your mother was a shame to any woman when I saw her flaunting in it. Now +you know what she was, and what you are and are like to be. I tell you +again, take off that gown as you would tear off a poisoned toad from +your flesh; then go down to your own room and spend the rest of the day +in prayer and meditation."</p> + +<p>It was a triumph for Grandma that Barrie did not throw at her an +insolent answer. For a moment the girl did not reply at all. Then she +said, in a singularly quiet way, that she would take off the dress and +put it back in the trunk, but not unless her grandmother would leave her +alone to do it. Afterward, she would ask nothing better than to go to +her own room and stay there. "I <i>want</i> to think," she added; "I have a +lot to think about. But I shall think only good things of my mother. +What you have told me has made me very, very happy. I believed that my +mother was dead. Now I know she's in the same world with me, I could +almost die of joy."</p> + +<p>"It is like her daughter to feel that," Mrs. MacDonald returned +bitterly. "If you are not downstairs in ten minutes, I will have the +door locked and keep you in the garret without food or drink or light +for twenty-four hours."</p> + +<p>"I should <i>love</i> that!" exclaimed Barrie suddenly, in the manner of her +old self. Nevertheless, she descended and advertised her return to the +prosaic world by closing the door loudly in less than ten minutes after +Mrs. MacDonald had gone.</p> + +<p>She walked straight into her own room and bolted herself in. If Grandma +had seen her then, she could not have helped admitting that there was as +much of Robert MacDonald in the lines of the girl's face as of the +guileful Barbara Ballantree.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="II" id="II"></a>II</h2> + + +<p>No notice was taken of Barrie until half-past eight o'clock that +night—half-past eight being considered night in Mrs. MacDonald's +house-hold. At that time, just as the hour was announced by an old +friend, the grandfather clock on the landing, who had seen the girl go +into the garret, Miss Janet Hepburn knocked at Barrie's door.</p> + +<p>"Barribel," she called, as always pronouncing the fanciful name with a +certain reluctance, partly on principle, partly because it was known to +have been chosen by "that woman." "Barribel, by your grandmother's +permission, I've brought you some supper. Open your door and take in the +tray."</p> + +<p>A voice answered from behind the panel, "I'll open the door if you will +bring in the tray yourself."</p> + +<p>Miss Hepburn hesitated for a moment. In the dun gaslight of the corridor +her sharp profile looked eager as the face of a hungry bird. She thought +quickly. Mrs. MacDonald had not yet finished her own supper. No such +frivolity as evening dinner was known at Hillard House. Soup after dark +except for an invalid would have been considered a pitfall; but the old +lady liked to linger alone over the last meal of the day, reading a +religious volume by the light of a lamp placed on the table at the left +of her plate. When Miss Hepburn and Barrie finished they always, as a +matter of form, asked to be excused, though they both knew, and Mrs. +MacDonald knew that they knew, how more than willing she was to be left +alone with her book. At a quarter past nine the servants were called, +they having already supped on bread and cheese. A chapter, preferably +from the Old Testament, was read, a prayer offered up, and at +nine-thirty precisely the family was ready to go to bed. Miss Hepburn +had reason to believe that for three quarters of an hour she was free to +do as she wished, and she wished as ardently as she was able to wish +anything, to see Barrie. She had heard next to nothing of the day's +events from Mrs. MacDonald, whose companion she was supposed to be now +that the girl no longer needed her whole morning's services as +governess. And from Mrs. Muir, into whose room she had slipped at +tea-time, very little had been dragged out. Yet it was certain that +something tremendous had happened. If she wanted to know what, her one +hope lay with Barrie.</p> + +<p>"Very well," she said, with the proper mingling of kindness and dignity, +"I will bring in the tray."</p> + +<p>The door immediately opened, and closed again after the flat figure of +Miss Hepburn. Barrie thought that if the good Janet had been born a fish +she would have been a skate, or at roundest a sole. Even her profile was +flat, as if the two sides of her face had been pressed firmly together +by a strong pair of hands. She wore her hair very flat on her head, +which was flat behind; and just at the nape of the neck was a flat +drab-tinted knot, of almost the same grayish-yellowish brown as her +complexion. On her flat breast was a flat brooch with a braid of pale +hair as a background. Even her voice sounded flat in its effort at +meekness and self-repression, calculated to appease Mrs. MacDonald in +trying circumstances. Miss Hepburn looked about forty-five; but she had +always looked forty-five for the last twelve years, and Barrie could +hardly have believed that she had ever been younger.</p> + +<p>"Your grandmother thinks that you have now been sufficiently punished," +she announced, "and you are to come down as usual to prayers."</p> + +<p>"Oh, am I?" echoed Barrie. "We'll see about that. As for punishment, if +it pleases Grandma to think she's punished me, she may. I don't care. +She couldn't have made me come out of my room to-day if she tried. But I +don't bear <i>you</i> any grudge, Heppie. I'm very glad to see you. I want +you to tell me things."</p> + +<p>"What things?" inquired Miss Hepburn. "I didn't come to talk. I am here +simply to see you begin your supper. You must be—er—very hungry."</p> + +<p>"I've had plenty of food all day," said Barrie—"food for thought." She +cleared a place on the one table by pushing a few school-books out of +the way. She had been sitting in the twilight, for she was not allowed +to have matches. Their possession might have tempted her to burn gas +after ten o'clock, when at latest all lights had to be out. Now, Janet +Hepburn brought a box of matches on the tray; and the gas, when lit, +showed the sparsely furnished room with its gray-painted, pictureless +wall, against which Barrie's red hair glowed like a flame. Outside the +open window the old ivy and the young peeping roses, which had been +green and pink and gold in the twilight, lost their colour as the gas +flared up, and evening out of doors darkened into night.</p> + +<p>"I've brought you bread and cheese with a slice of cold beef," announced +Miss Hepburn, "and Mrs. Muir has baked you a potato, but I am not sure +whether your grandmother would approve of that. She distinctly said a +cold supper."</p> + +<p>"Will you please thank Mrs. Muir for me?" Barrie asked.</p> + +<p>"You can thank her to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"I mayn't have a chance. Do thank her for me to-night. Say I wanted you +to."</p> + +<p>"Why are you in such a hurry?"</p> + +<p>"Oh—just <i>because</i>. Will you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I will try, after prayers, when she is shutting up the house. Now, +eat your supper."</p> + +<p>"I don't want to, yet. Please, Heppie, dear Heppie, tell me what you +know about my mother. You weren't here when she was, but you're a kind +of cousin of Grandma's, and you must have heard all about her."</p> + +<p>"If I had, that would not give me the right to tell you," replied Miss +Hepburn, clinging desperately to her stiff dignity, despite the pleading +voice and the "dear, dear Heppie," against which, being one third human, +she was not quite proof. It was always difficult not to be beguiled by +Barrie.</p> + +<p>"I've only you I <i>can</i> come to," said the girl. "You're the one person +in the house except me who isn't old and dried-up."</p> + +<p>This was a stroke of genius, but the genius of instinct, for Barrie had +no experience in the art of cajolery. "Was I named after my mother?"</p> + +<p>"Only partly. She was a Miss Ballantree, and her first name was Barbara, +I believe; but she disliked it, and when her husband wished to have the +child christened the same, she insisted on Barribel. It seems that is an +old Scottish name also, or Celtic perhaps, for she was Irish, though I +know nothing of her family. But Barribel has always sounded frivolous to +me."</p> + +<p>"Yet you would never call me Barrie when I begged you to. I wonder if +there ever was another girl who had to make up her own pet name, and +then had nobody who would use it except herself? When I talk to myself I +always say 'Barrie,' in different tones of voice, to hear how it sounds. +I try to say it as if I loved myself, because no one else loves +me—unless maybe you do; just a tiny, tiny bit. Do you, Heppie?"</p> + +<p>"Of course I have an affection for you," Miss Hepburn returned +decorously, half alarmed at so pronounced a betrayal of her inner +emotions, "and naturally your grandmother——"</p> + +<p>"Let's not talk about her now," Barrie pleaded. "Was my mother young +when she was married?"</p> + +<p>"Quite young, I understand—about nineteen."</p> + +<p>"Only nineteen—not very much older than I am. And she stood two years +of Grandma and this house!"</p> + +<p>"Barribel, you forget yourself."</p> + +<p>"If I do, it's because I'm thinking about my mother. Twenty—twenty-one; +that's what she was when she—went away!"</p> + +<p>"She must have been. Of course, it is not my place to——"</p> + +<p>"No, dear Heppie, I know it isn't, so don't, please. Could even you +blame her for wanting to run away from this awful house, and she an +Irish girl?"</p> + +<p>"She was half American, I have heard."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps, for all I know about Americans, that made it even harder for +her to stand Grandma—and everything else. Anyhow, <i>I</i> don't blame +her—not one bit."</p> + +<p>"What! not for deserting her loving husband and her helpless child?"</p> + +<p>"All day I've been wondering if father knew how to show his love for +her. He didn't to me. I can remember that. I used to be afraid of him +and glad to escape. Perhaps he made <i>her</i> feel like that too—oh, +without meaning it. I'm sure he was good. But so is Grandma +good—horribly good. There's something about this house that spoils +goodness, and turns it to a kind of poison. It must have been awfully +depressing to be married to father if one had any <i>fun</i> in one, and +loved to laugh. As for the 'helpless child,' I dare say I was a horrid +little squalling brat with scarlet hair and a crimson face and a vile +temper, that no one could possibly love."</p> + +<p>"It is a mother's duty to love her child, in spite of its appearance; +and if it has a bad temper, all the more should she endeavour by prayer +and example to eradicate its faults in bringing it up. At least, so I +have always been taught. Personally, of course," Heppie hastened to add, +"I know nothing of motherhood and its duties."</p> + +<p>"Then you never played dolls," said Barrie gravely. "I never had but one +doll—the porcelain-headed darling father gave me. Grandma let me keep +it because it came from him, and I did love it dearly! I do still. I +learned just how to be a mother, playing with it. I know I shall be a +perfectly sweet mother when I have a child."</p> + +<p>"Barribel, you should not say such things. It is most unmaidenly."</p> + +<p>"I don't see why," Barrie argued. "Perhaps my mother's people wouldn't +let her say such things when she was a young girl, and then she began to +be an actress, and was so busy she never had time to learn much about +children and duty and that sort of thing. But I won't be unmaidenly any +more, dear Heppie—at least, if I can help it—if you'll only do me one +great favour."</p> + +<p>"What is it?" Miss Hepburn inquired cautiously.</p> + +<p>"Tell me what's become of my mother. Oh, you needn't be afraid! Grandma +let it out that she's alive. She's not even old yet—not so <i>very</i> old. +You must tell me what's happened to her."</p> + +<p>"Nothing creditable, I fear," replied Janet, finding a certain sad +pleasure in the sins of another, so different from her own good self. +"She has, I believe, continued to act on the stage."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure she must be the greatest success!" exclaimed Barrie.</p> + +<p>"As to that, I have no means of knowing. I always skip news of the +theatre in reading the papers aloud to Mrs. MacDonald."</p> + +<p>"Oh, just to <i>think</i> that any day I might have seen things about my +mother in the newspapers, and perhaps even her pictures! I wish I'd +known! I'd have got at the papers somehow before they were cremated. Now +I understand why Grandma tries to keep them out of my hands."</p> + +<p>"There were many reasons for that," said Miss Hepburn, loyal to her +employer's convictions and her own pallid copies of those convictions. +"No really <i>nice</i> girl ever reads the newspapers, or would wish to do +so. They are full of wickedness. There is much I have to miss out."</p> + +<p>"Do you think my mother has kept her married name for the stage?" Barrie +wanted to know.</p> + +<p>"That," answered Miss Hepburn almost eagerly, "has been poor Mrs. +MacDonald's greatest trial—except your father's death. To think that +the name of her son—the name of his great ancestors—should be bandied +about in the theatres!"</p> + +<p>"Then she does call herself MacDonald!"</p> + +<p>"I fear that is the case. But now it will be useless asking me any more +questions, for I shall not answer them. Will you let me see you begin +your supper?"</p> + +<p>"No, dear Heppie, for I'm not hungry; and I want to think. Thank you so +much for talking to me, and being so kind. I believe you'd often like to +be kind when you daren't."</p> + +<p>Miss Hepburn looked slightly surprised. She had expected to be teased +for further information, rather than thanked cordially for that already +doled out. "I try to do my duty both to your grandmother and you," she +returned. "I really must go now, and I shall not have to lock your door +again, as Mrs. MacDonald considers the punishment over. You must be +careful to come down the minute you hear the bell, and not be late for +prayers."</p> + +<p>"Good-bye, if you must go," said Barrie, following the small, stiff +figure to the door. "I—I wish you'd kiss me, Heppie."</p> + +<p>Janet actually started, and a blush produced itself in a way peculiar to +her face, appearing mostly upon the nose, where it lingered rosily at +the end. Kisses were not exchanged under Mrs. MacDonald's roof. Barrie's +was a most disquieting suggestion, and sounded as if she had a +presentiment that she was about to die or, at the best, be very ill. +Still, there was no real impropriety in an ex-governess kissing her late +pupil; and possibly the desire revealed a spirit of repentance and +meekness on the part of Barribel, which deserved to be encouraged. +Without spoken questions, therefore, Miss Hepburn pecked with her +unkissed virgin lips the firm pink satin of Barrie's cheek. The deed +seemed curiously epoch-making, and stirred her oddly. She was ashamed of +the feeling she had, rather like a bird waking up from sleep and +fluttering its wings in her breast. Her nose burned; and she hastened +her departure lest Barribel should notice some undignified difference in +manner or expression.</p> + +<p>"I shall see you again downstairs in a few minutes," she said hurriedly.</p> + +<p>Barrie did not answer, and Miss Hepburn softly shut the door.</p> + +<p>Instantly the girl began making a sandwich of the bread and cheese, +which she wrapped up in a clean handkerchief. She would not take the +napkin, because that belonged to Grandma. Hanging up in the wardrobe was +a long cloak of the MacDonald hunting tartan, which looked as if it had +been fashioned out of a man's plaid. On each side was a pocket; and into +one of these Barrie slipped her little package. Already made up and +lying on the floor of the wardrobe was another parcel, very much bigger, +rolled in dark green baize which might have been a small table cover. +From a shelf Barrie snatched a tam-o'-shanter, also a dark green in +colour. Absent-mindedly she pulled it over her head, and the green +brightened the copper red of her hair. Slipping her arms into the +sleeves of the queer cloak, she caught up her bundle, turned down the +gas, and peeped cautiously out into the corridor. No one was there. The +house was very still. Grandma's bell for reading and prayer would not +ring yet for twenty minutes or more. The girl tiptoed out, locked the +door behind her, and slipped the key into the pocket with the +sandwiches. If any one came to call her to prayers, it would appear that +she had shut herself in and was refusing to answer.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="III" id="III"></a>III</h2> + + +<p>"Car-l-i-s-l-e!" The Caruso voice of a gifted railway porter intoned the +word in two swelling syllables, so alluring in their suggestion to +passengers that it was strange the whole train did not empty itself upon +the platform. So far from this being the case, however, not more than +six men and half as many women, one with two sleepy, whimpering +children, obeyed the siren call.</p> + +<p>Five of the men looked for porters, and eventually culled them, like +stiff-stemmed wayside plants; but the sixth man had not set his foot on +the platform before he was accosted by two would-be helpers.</p> + +<p>What there was about him so different from, and so superior to, his +fellow-travellers that it was visible to the naked eye at night, in a +not too brilliantly lighted railway station, could be explained only by +experts in the art of deciding at a glance where the best financial +results are to be obtained.</p> + +<p>The man was not richly dressed, was not decked out with watch-chains and +scarf-pins and rings, nor had he a shape to hint that the possession of +millions had led to self-indulgence. Many people would have passed him +by with a glance, thinking him exactly like other men of decent birth +and life who knew how to wear their clothes; but railway porters and +romantic women (are there other women?) have a special instinct about +men. The two female passengers unhampered by howling babies looked at +him as they went by, and they would instinctively have known, though +even they could not have explained, why the porters unhesitatingly +selected this man as prey.</p> + +<p>He was not very tall, and not very handsome, and he was not conspicuous +in any way: but if he had been an actor, a deaf and blind audience would +somehow have felt with a thrill that he had come upon the stage. The +secret was not intricate: only something of which people talk a dozen +times a day without knowing technically what they mean—personal +magnetism. He was rather dark and rather thin, rather like a conquering +soldier in his simple yet authoritative way of giving orders for what he +wanted done. He had eyes which were of an almost startling blueness in +his sunburned face: a peculiarity that made strangers look twice at him +sometimes. If his features hardened into a certain cynical grimness when +he thought about things that really mattered, his smile for things that +didn't matter was singularly pleasant.</p> + +<p>He did not smile at the porters as he pointed out that, besides his +suit-case, he had only one small piece of luggage in the van, to be +taken to his automobile; and there were other passengers who looked much +jollier and more amenable than he: yet it was to him that a girl spoke +as he was about to walk past her, after his chosen porter.</p> + +<p>"Oh! Will you please be so very kind as to wait a minute!" she +exclaimed.</p> + +<p>Her "Oh!" was like a barrier suddenly thrown down in front of him. Of +course he stopped; and if he were not greatly astonished it was only +because so many odd things had happened to him in life, in railway +stations and drawing rooms and in all sorts of other places, that it +took a great deal to make him feel surprise, and still more to make him +show it.</p> + +<p>He was roused to alertness, however, when he saw what manner of girl +invited him to "wait a minute." He had never seen one like her before. +And yet, of whose face did hers piquantly remind him? He had a dim +impression that it was quite a celebrated face, and no wonder, if it +were like this one. The only odd thing was that he could not remember +whose the first face had been, for such features could never let +themselves be wiped off memory's slate.</p> + +<p>The girl was almost a child, apparently, for her hair hung in two long +bright red braids over her extraordinary cloak; and her big eyes were +child's eyes. What her figure was like, except that she was a tall, +long-legged, upstanding young creature, no one could judge, not even an +anatomist, because of that weird wrap. As a cloak it was a shocking +production—a hideous, unbelievable contribution to cloakhood from the +hands of a mantle-making vandal—but it caught the man's interest, +because before his eyes danced the hunting tartan of the MacDonalds of +Dhrum. Once that particular combination of green, blue, red, brown, +purple, and white had flashed to his heart a signal of warm human love, +daring and high romance; but he believed that long ago his heart had +shut against such deceiving signals. Across the way in, he had printed +in big letters "NO THOROUGHFARE," and was unconsciously well pleased +with himself because he had done this, thinking it a proof of mature +wisdom, keen insight into his brother man—especially perhaps his sister +woman—and a general tendency toward scientific, bomb-proof modernity, +the triumph of intellect over emotion. And in truth his experiences had +been of a kind to change the enthusiastic boy he once had been into the +cynical, hard-headed man he was now. Nevertheless, as he looked at the +girl in the tartan cloak, he heard within himself the war-cry of the +clan MacDonald, "Fraoch Eilean!" and he smelt the heather of the purple +isle of Dhrum.</p> + +<p>It was many years since he had seen that strangely formed island-shape +cut in amethyst against the gold of sunset sky and sea; but the purple +and the gold were unforgettable, even for one who thought he had +forgotten and lost the magic long ago.</p> + +<p>She was a beautiful girl in spite of the ugly tam and the bag of a +cloak. Her eyes had the deep light of clear streams that have never +reflected other things than trees, shadowing banks of wild flowers, and +skies arching above. There was something quaintly arresting about her, +apart from the odd clothes.</p> + +<p>The man stopped. His porter lumbered on sturdily; but that was just as +well. The girl had asked him to wait: so he waited in silence to hear +what she would say.</p> + +<p>"Will you please look at a thing I want very much to sell?" she began. +"Perhaps you'll like to buy it. Nobody else will—but," she added +hastily, "I think you'll admire it."</p> + +<p>He looked her steadily in the eyes for a few seconds, and she returned +the look, in spite of herself rather than because she was determined to +give him gaze for gaze.</p> + +<p>"Why do you ask me to buy what you have to sell?" he answered by a +question. "Is it for charity or the cause of the Suffragettes?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, it's not for charity!" the girl exclaimed. "And I don't know +what you mean by Suffragettes."</p> + +<p>The man laughed. "Where have you lived?" he questioned her.</p> + +<p>She blushed for an ignorance which evidently struck strangers as +fantastic. "Near Carlisle with my grandmother," she explained; "but +she's never let me have friends, or make visits, or read the papers. +I've just left her house now, and I want to go to London. I <i>must</i> go to +London, but I haven't any money, and they won't trust me to pay them for +my ticket when I get some. So I tried to sell a piece of jewellery I +have, and nobody would buy it. I thought when I saw you come out of the +train that maybe <i>you</i> would. I don't know why—but you're different. +You look as if you'd know all about valuable things—and whether they're +real; and as if you'd be—not stupid, or like these other people."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," he returned, and smiled his pleasant smile. If another man +had described such a meeting with a pretty and apparently ingenuous girl +in a railway station at ten o'clock at night, he would still have +smiled, but not the same smile. He would have been sure that the girl +was a minx, and the man a fool. He recognized this unreasonableness in +himself; nevertheless, he had no doubt that his own instinct about the +girl was right. She was genuine of her sort, whatever her strange sort +might be; and though he laughed at himself for the impulse, he could not +help wanting to do something for her, in an elder-brother way. For an +instant his thoughts went to the woman who was waiting for and expecting +him, the train being late. But quickly the curtain was drawn before her +portrait in his mind.</p> + +<p>"You say your grandmother never let you make friends," he said, "yet you +seem to believe in your own knowledge of human nature."</p> + +<p>"Because, what you aren't allowed to see or do, you think of a great +deal more. Knowledge <i>jumps</i> into your head in such an interesting way," +the girl answered, with an apologetic air, as a witness might if wishing +to conciliate a cross-questioning counsel. "Here's the jewellery I want +to sell. It was my father's, and belonged to his father and +grandfather."</p> + +<p>She opened her ungloved right hand to reveal a bonnet brooch of +beautiful and very ancient workmanship showing the crest of the +MacDonalds of Dhrum set with a fine cairngorm and some exquisite old +paste. It must have come down through many fathers to many sons, for it +was at least two hundred years old.</p> + +<p>"You would sell this?" the man exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Well, I <i>must</i> get to London," she excused herself, "and it's the only +thing I have worth selling. I <i>knew</i> you'd see it was good. The others +would hardly look at it, except one quite horrid man who squeezed my +hand when I was showing him the brooch, and that made me behave so +rudely to him he went away at once."</p> + +<p>"Was your father a MacDonald of Dhrum?" asked the man who had not +squeezed her hand, and exhibited no wish to do so, though his eyes never +left her face.</p> + +<p>"Yes. Why, do you know our tartan and crest?"</p> + +<p>"I—thought I recognized them." For an instant he was tempted to add an +item of information concerning himself, but he beat down the impulse. +"If you want money, you can raise something on this without selling it," +he went on. "It would be a pity to part with an heirloom."</p> + +<p>"I didn't know I could do that," said the girl. "Of course it would be +better. I'm going to London to find somebody—my mother," she continued, +in a different tone. "When I get to her, she'll give me money, of +course, and I can pay you back, if you'll lend me enough now to buy my +ticket—and perhaps a little, a very little, more, because I mayn't find +her at once. I may have to go on somewhere else after London, though I +hope not. <i>Will</i> you lend me some money and keep the brooch till I pay?"</p> + +<p>"I might be prepared to do that," said the man slowly. "But you surely +don't mean to start off for London alone, in the night."</p> + +<p>"Why not?" she argued. "There's no danger in railway trains, is there? +I've never been in one yet, but I've read lots about them in books, and +I think I shall love travelling."</p> + +<p>"You've never been in a train!"</p> + +<p>"No, because I was born at Grandma's house, and she never travels +anywhere, and I've always lived with her. If my father hadn't died, and +my mother hadn't—hadn't been obliged to go away when I was a baby, +probably I should have been just like other girls. But now I suppose I +must be very different, and seem stupid and queer. Every one stared as +if I were a wild animal when I was asking my way to the railway station. +But you will lend me the money, won't you, if you think the brooch is +worth it, because one of the porters told me there'd be a train for +London soon?"</p> + +<p>"When people are making up their minds to lend money to strangers, they +always put a number of questions first," answered the man gravely, "so I +must ask you to excuse me if I catechize you a little before I engage +myself to do anything. Do you expect any one to meet you in London, Miss +MacDonald?"</p> + +<p>"Dear me, no!" and she could not help laughing to hear herself called +"Miss MacDonald," a dignity never bestowed on her before. "I don't know +any one in London—unless my mother's there."</p> + +<p>"Oh, indeed! But London's quite a big place, bigger a good deal than +Carlisle, you know, so you may have some difficulty in finding your +mother if you aren't sure of the address."</p> + +<p>"She hasn't an address—I mean, I don't know it. But she's an actress on +the stage. I think she must be so beautiful and splendid that almost +every one will have heard of her, so all I will have to say is, 'Please +tell me whether Mrs. MacDonald the actress is in London?'"</p> + +<p>"Not Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald!" This time he did look surprised.</p> + +<p>"Ballantree was her name before she was married," the girl admitted. +"And her Christian name's Barbara. Do you know her?"</p> + +<p>"I do, slightly," replied the man. "But I had no idea that she——" He +broke off abruptly, looking more closely than ever at the vivid face +under the knitted tam.</p> + +<p>"I suppose, if you don't know her very well, she never spoke to you +about having a daughter?" Barrie asked.</p> + +<p>"No, she never spoke of it. But look here, Miss MacDonald, as I happen +to be an acquaintance—I daren't call myself a friend—of your mother's, +you'd better let me advise you a little, without thinking that I'm +taking a liberty. From what you say, I have the idea that you've not had +time to write Mrs. Bal—I mean, Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald that you're +coming to pay her a visit."</p> + +<p>"No, I only made up my mind to-day," said Barrie carefully. "Grandma and +she aren't good friends, so my mother and I—don't write to each other. +Grandma doesn't like the stage, and as you know mother, I don't mind +telling you she's been perfectly horrid—Grandma, I mean. She let me +believe that mother was dead—just because she's an actress, which I +think must be splendid. That's why I'm running away, and wild horses +couldn't drag me back."</p> + +<p>"I see. Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald will be taken by surprise when you +turn up."</p> + +<p>"Yes. It will be like things I've dreamed about and invented to make +into story-books—really interesting story-books such as Grandma +wouldn't let me read, for she approves only of Hannah More. Won't mother +be delighted?"</p> + +<p>"Just at first her surprise may overcome her natural joy," said the man. +"And here is where my advice comes in. It's this: Let the news be broken +to your mother before you try to see her. That would be the wisest +thing. Besides, she mayn't be in London now—probably isn't. It's past +the season there; and Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald is one of those +beautiful and successful people, you know, who are generally found at +places in the most fashionable time of the year. If she's acting, it +will be easy to find out where she is from one of the stage papers. She +could be written to, and——"</p> + +<p>"No, I <i>want</i> to surprise her!" Barrie persisted. "I want first to see +her, for I know she must be a darling and perfectly lovely; and then I +want to say, 'Mother, here's your daughter Barribel, that you named +yourself, come to love you and live with you always.'"</p> + +<p>"Er—yes. It sounds charming," replied the man, gazing at a large +advertisement of a new food with quite an odd look in his eyes. "If your +heart's set on that scene I've no right to try and dissuade you; but +anyhow, the thing to do is to find out where she is before you start, +for you might get to London only to have to turn round and come back. In +August she's more likely to be in Scotland than in London."</p> + +<p>"Oh, is she?" Barrie's face told all her doubt and disappointment. "But +I can't wait. I must go somewhere. If I don't take a train, Mrs. Muir +our housekeeper and perhaps Miss Hepburn may come here looking for me +from Hillard House. I'm afraid they found out at prayer-time that I'd +gone, and when they've searched all over the house and garden, they——"</p> + +<p>"So you make no bones about running away from home, Miss MacDonald?"</p> + +<p>"Neither would you in my place if you and your mother were insulted."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps not," the man admitted. "I did something more or less of the +sort when I was a year or two older than you—about seventeen——"</p> + +<p>"But I'm over seventeen already," Barrie hastened to boast. "I'm +eighteen."</p> + +<p>The man smiled at her, his nicest smile. "Eighteen! That's very old, and +it's only living the retired life you have that's kept you young. Still, +there it is! You <i>have</i> lived a retired life, and it's—er—it's left +its mark on you. It will take at least some months to efface it, even +under your mother's wing. That means you're a bit handicapped among a +lot of people who haven't lived retired lives. I don't advise you to go +back to your grandmother's house, because you wouldn't anyhow—and +besides, you know your own business better than I do; only, of course, +you'll have to write to her. As an acquaintance of your mother's, I'd +like to put you with some kind people for to-night until we can find out +for you just where Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald is. Don't you see that this +would be a sensible arrangement, if the people were all right, instead +of starting off on a wild-goose chase?"</p> + +<p>"Ye-es, perhaps. And it's very kind of you to take an interest for my +mother's sake," said Barrie, trying not to show her disappointment +ungraciously.</p> + +<p>"Of course, for your mother's sake," he repeated, with an expressionless +expression. "I call myself Somerled," he added, watching her face as he +made his announcement.</p> + +<p>She caught him up quickly. "Why, that was the name of the great leader +from the North who founded the Clan MacDonald!"</p> + +<p>"You know about him, do you—in spite of the retired life?"</p> + +<p>"Not to know would disgrace a MacDonald. And just because I <i>have</i> led a +retired life I've had more time to learn than girls in the world. I know +a good deal—really I do. I've read—heaps of things, behind Grandma's +back. Somerled of the Isles is a hero of mine. I didn't know any one had +a right to his name nowadays."</p> + +<p>"I dare to bear it, like a Standard, with or without right, though +unworthily. Somerled of the Isles was my hero too."</p> + +<p>"Then you're Scottish, like me," said Barrie. "I don't feel related to +Grandma's people, and I don't know anything about mother's. But if +you're going to be my friend for her sake, I'm glad your name is +Somerled. It's splendid!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, it's splendid to be called Somerled," the man agreed, faintly +emphasizing the substituted word. "And I'm proud to be a Scot, though +I've lived half my life in America, and they think of me there as an +American. I've been thinking of myself that way too for seventeen years. +But blood's a good deal thicker than water, and I was born on the island +of Dhrum."</p> + +<p>"Our island!" exclaimed Barrie. "That makes it seem as if we were +related."</p> + +<p>"I hoped it would, because a Somerled has a right to the trust of a +MacDonald. Will you trust me to motor you to my friend Mrs. West, who's +stopping just now with her brother in a nice little house just outside +Carlisle? It's named Moorhill Farm, and belongs to a Mrs. Keeling, who +has lent it to Mrs. West. I'm going there, and they'll be glad to keep +you until we can learn where you ought to meet your mother. Perhaps you +know of Mrs. Keeling and her house?"</p> + +<p>Barrie glanced at him half longingly, half doubtfully. She had been +looking forward to the adventure of travelling to London; but if there +were less chance of her mother being there than elsewhere, London was +wiped off the map. Still Barrie was loth to abandon her plan. To do so +was like admitting failure—in spite of the motor, which she would love +to try. She had never been within two yards of a motor-car.</p> + +<p>"I've seen Mrs. Keeling in church," she said. "She has stick-out teeth. +Grandma bows to her. But how can you tell that Mrs. West will be glad to +have me?"</p> + +<p>"I'll answer for her hospitality," came Somerled's assurance. "You'll +like Mrs. West. She's a widow, and a sweet woman. Her brother's as nice +as she is—Basil Norman. Perhaps you've heard of them? They write books +together—stories about travel and love and motor-cars."</p> + +<p>"No," Barrie confessed. "I don't know any authors later than Dickens, +unless I see their names in book-sellers' windows, when I come into town +with Heppie—Miss Hepburn. If you don't mind, I think I'd rather not go +to Mrs. West's. I'm afraid of strangers."</p> + +<p>"Are you afraid of me, then?"</p> + +<p>"No-o. But you're a man. I'm afraid of women. They stare at your +clothes, and I know mine are horrid."</p> + +<p>"Mrs. West won't stare. She'll help you buy pretty things to wear when +you go to your mother."</p> + +<p>"Will she? But how shall I buy them? I haven't any money."</p> + +<p>"You'll have money from your father's brooch. Now—will you trust me and +come to Mrs. Keeling's house, as your grandmother bows to her?"</p> + +<p>"I'd rather go to a hotel, thank you."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense. You can't go alone to a hotel."</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"It wouldn't be proper for Miss MacDonald of Dhrum."</p> + +<p>"Now you talk like Grandma!"</p> + +<p>"I talk common sense. I'll lend you no money to spend in a hotel."</p> + +<p>"Then take me to Mrs. West," the girl said, as she might have said, +"Take me to the scaffold."</p> + +<p>Somerled laughed with amusement and triumph. He was astonishingly +interested in his adventure, astonishingly pleased at the prospect of +continuing it. Surely this girl was unique! He believed in comparatively +few things, but he believed in her: for not to do so would have been +indeed ungrateful, as she was ready to prove her implicit belief in him.</p> + +<p>"A daughter of Mrs. Bal!" he said to himself as he led Mrs. Bal's +daughter to his motor-car.</p> + +<p>Poor Barrie would have believed in almost any man who owned a motor.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="IV" id="IV"></a>IV</h2> + + +<p>Aline West and her brother, Basil Norman, were walking slowly up and +down the garden path in front of the old-fashioned manor farmhouse lent +to them for ten days by an admiring friend. They were waiting for +Somerled, who had expressed a desire not to be met at the station; and +listening for the teuf-teuf of motors along the distant road prevented +Mrs. West from attending to her brother's suggestions. He had had an +inspiration for the new novel they were planning together, and was +explaining it eagerly, for Basil was a born story-teller. Only, he had +never found time for story-telling until lately. He was tremendously +happy in his new way of life, although only a terrible illness which had +closed others paths of success had opened this door for him. It did not +matter in the least that Aline got the credit. Not only was he glad that +she should have praise, but he was convinced that it ought to be hers. +If she had not thought of asking him to try his hand at helping her four +years ago, when the incentive to live seemed gone, he might have been +driven to put himself out of the way. It was to her, therefore, that he +owed everything; and though success as an author had never come to Aline +until after the first book they wrote together, that, to Basil Norman's +mind, was no more than a coincidence, and he had never ceased to feel +that she was generous in letting his name appear with hers on their +title pages.</p> + +<p>"I wonder if anything can have happened to him!" Aline murmured.</p> + +<p>"Which, Dick or Claud?" her brother asked, puzzled. Dick was to be their +hero, Claud the villain. Basil had been engaged in outlining the two +characters for his sister's approval.</p> + +<p>"No. Ian Somerled," she explained almost crossly, though her voice was +sweet, because it was never otherwise than sweet. "Either the train's +late or——"</p> + +<p>"I'd have met him with pleasure," Basil reminded her.</p> + +<p>"It would be <i>fatal</i> to do anything he didn't wish," she answered. "He's +a man who knows exactly what he wants, and hates to have people go +against his directions in the smallest things."</p> + +<p>Norman looked at her rather anxiously through the soft summer darkness +that was hardly darkness. She was walking beside him with her hands +clasped behind her back and her head bent. He thought her extremely +pretty, and wondered if Somerled thought so too. But he wished that she +did not care quite so much what Somerled thought. And he was not sure +whether she were right about what Somerled liked.</p> + +<p>"I wonder if we understand Somerled?" he asked, as if he were +questioning himself aloud. "After all, we don't know him very well."</p> + +<p>"I do," Aline said. "I know him like a book. He's bored to death with +everything nearly. Only I—we—haven't bored him yet. And we must take +care not to."</p> + +<p>"You could never bore anybody," Basil assured her loyally. "But—I wish +you'd tell me something honestly, old girl."</p> + +<p>"Not if you call me that!" She laughed a little. "It wouldn't matter if +I were twenty-five instead of—never mind! I don't want people to think, +when they hear you, 'Many a true word spoken in jest.'"</p> + +<p>"Somerled's older than you are, anyhow," Basil consoled her.</p> + +<p>"I should think so—ages! Don't forget, dear, I'm only just thirty. I +don't look more, do I—truly?"</p> + +<p>"Not a day over twenty-eight."</p> + +<p>She was disappointed that he did not say less. She had been twenty-nine +for years, and had just begun, for a change, to state frankly that she +was thirty. She had never been able to forgive Basil for being younger +than she, but she could trust him not to advertise his advantage. He +really was a dear! She hated herself for being jealous of him sometimes. +There were things he could do, there were thoughts that came to him as +easily as homing birds, which were with her only a pretence: but she +pretended eagerly, sincerely, even with prayer. She really yearned to be +at heart all that she tried to make Somerled and other people believe +her to be. And if she tried hard to be genuine all through, surely in +time——</p> + +<p>"What I want you to tell me is," Basil was going on, "are you in l—how +much do you really care about this man?"</p> + +<p>"'This man?'" she repeated. "How serious that sounds; like 'Do you take +this man for better, for worse?' Well, I confess that I <i>should</i>, if he +asked me."</p> + +<p>"Then you must be in love," her brother concluded. "Because you don't +need his money. We make as many thousands as we used to make hundreds; +and it's all yours, really, or ought to be."</p> + +<p>She was ashamed of not contradicting him, yet she did not contradict. +She could not bear to put in words what in her heart she knew to be the +truth: that their success was due to Basil, the dreamer of dreams; that +her little smartnesses and pretty trivialities could never have carried +them to the place where they now stood together. The worst part of her +wanted Basil to think, wanted every one to think, that she was the +important partner, that she was actually <i>all</i> in the partnership. And +it was too miserably easy to produce this impression. Basil was so +unassuming, thought so poorly of himself, realized so little how she +leaned upon him in their work, admired her so loyally!</p> + +<p>"Ian Somerled is more of a man than any other man I ever met," she said. +"I like him for his strength and for his indifference. Everything about +him appeals to me—even his money; for making it in the way he did was +one expression of his power. Just because they say he'll never marry, I +want——"</p> + +<p>"I can understand how a woman may feel about him," Basil said gently, +when she suddenly broke off.</p> + +<p>"I thought I was perfectly happy the day he asked us to tour Scotland +with him in his car; and when he promised to spend a few days with us +here, after he'd got through his business in London," Aline went on, "it +was like <i>honey</i> to hear him say that he didn't want to come if any one +else was to be here. He'd enjoy it only with you and me alone. But ever +since I saw him I've been worrying until I'm quite wretched."</p> + +<p>"Worrying about what?"</p> + +<p>"Whether he <i>suspects</i> anything."</p> + +<p>"Why, what is there to suspect?"</p> + +<p>"Then <i>you</i> don't? I'm glad, for you're both men. If you don't suspect, +why should he?"</p> + +<p>"You'll have to tell me what you're driving at. I shan't have an easy +minute till you do—and that means I can't write. You know I won't give +you away."</p> + +<p>"A woman wouldn't need telling. That's why I like men! You never +guessed, then, that I've been doing it all? I was the power behind the +throne. I made him invite us, and——"</p> + +<p>"The deuce you did! Why, I heard him ask you. It was on board ship, +and——"</p> + +<p>"And before he asked, unless you were deaf, you heard me say I couldn't +work up any enthusiasm about the next book we'd promised our publisher +to write because we'd sold our last car and hadn't time to make up our +minds about a new one, and we had no friends to give us good 'tips' +about the country. It was then he asked me what country we wanted to +write about, and I said Scotland."</p> + +<p>"Well, yes, I suppose I heard you say all that, now you remind me of it. +But it wasn't hinting, because you didn't know he was going to Scotland +for his rest cure."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, I did. I read it in the New York <i>Sun</i> before we sailed. And +when I said we'd accept his invitation if he'd accept ours, Mrs. Keeling +hadn't offered me this house."</p> + +<p>"You said she had."</p> + +<p>"I was sure she would, because she told me I had only to ask. She was +dying to lend it. She wanted to be able to tell everybody that Aline +West and Basil Norman lived in her house for a fortnight in August. It's +a great feather in her cap; and Ian Somerled coming to visit us here is +something she'll <i>never</i> get over as long as she lives. I marconied her +an hour after he'd said that he would come to us after London, and we'd +begin our motor tour from Carlisle. 'Twas only taking Time by the +forelock to tell him we <i>had</i> been invited. It <i>was</i> bad luck poor Mrs. +Keeling being ill when she got my wire, and she really was a trump to +turn out and go to a nursing home."</p> + +<p>"Good heavens, is that what she did? I didn't know——"</p> + +<p>"Of course not. But you needn't mind so dreadfully. She's <i>much</i> more +comfortable in the nursing home with the best attention than in her own. +And, as a reward, we'll dedicate the book to her."</p> + +<p>Aline said this as a queen might have suggested lending her crown to a +loyal servitor. Basil laughed, rather uncomfortably, and his sister +looked up hastily into his face, to see if he were making fun of her. +Just then they were drawing near the open windows of the drawing-room, +and the lamplight shone out so brightly through the old-fashioned +embroidered lace curtains that she could see his profile. Hers too was +clearly outlined as she lifted her chin anxiously.</p> + +<p>The brother and sister were both good to look at, in ways so different +that the two made a striking contrast. Aline knew that in appearance +they were a romantic pair of travelling companions. Every one stared at +them when they were together, for he was very tall and dark, more like +an Italian or a Spaniard than an Englishman, and she was gracefully +slender and fair, dressing with a subtle appreciation of herself and all +her points. Aline West's and Basil Norman's photographs, taken together +or apart, for newspapers and magazines, were extremely effective, and +were considered by publishers to help the sale of their books. Norman +might have sat for Titian's Portrait of a Gentleman: and there were +those who thought Mrs. West not unlike Lady Hamilton. Since the first +expression of this opinion in print, she had changed the fashion of her +hair, and at fancy-dress balls, of which she was fond, she generally +appeared as the beautiful Emma. Certainly the cast of her features and +the cutting of her lips faintly recalled those of Romney's ideal; but +Mrs. West's pretty pale face had only two expressions: the one when she +smiled—always the same delicate curving of the lips which lit no beam +in the deep-set forget-me-not eyes; the one when she was grave and +wistfully intellectual. She had a beautiful round white throat which she +never hid with a high collar. Her hair was of that sun-in-a-mist gold +that eventually fades almost imperceptibly into gray—if left to itself. +But in Aline's case it was improbable that it would be left to itself. +Every morning when dressing she examined it anxiously, even fearfully, +to see whether it was becoming thinner or losing its misty glints of +gold. Yet she knew that her fears were likely to advance the day she +dreaded, and tried to shut them out of her mind.</p> + +<p>"Why do you laugh?" she inquired almost irritably, for she was secretly +afraid always of missing something that was seen by others to be +amusing. She talked constantly of a sense of humour, pitying those not +blessed with it, but there were moments when she wondered bleakly if she +had it herself. "Have I said anything funny?"</p> + +<p>"Only you seem so sure that the dedication will be a panacea for every +wound."</p> + +<p>"So it will be for Mrs. Keeling."</p> + +<p>"I thought you had the idea of dedicating it to Somerled, as he'll be +taking us through Scotland in his car."</p> + +<p>"I had. But I feel now it would be a mistake. He couldn't refuse, and +one wouldn't be sure he was pleased. He's so horribly important, you +know. I don't mean in his own eyes, but in the eyes of the world; so +nothing we could do for him would really confer an honour. And the +reason he's cynical and bored is because people have fussed over him so +sickeningly, more and more every year, since he began to rise to what he +is."</p> + +<p>"Yet I don't think he's conceited."</p> + +<p>"Not in the ordinary way. But he can't help knowing that he's some one +in particular. He began to like us because we didn't fuss over him, or +seem to go out of our way to please him. That's where I've been clever; +for oh, Basil, I'd do anything short of disfiguring myself to win him."</p> + +<p>"My poor girl!" Norman exclaimed.</p> + +<p>She caught him up hastily. "Why do you call me 'poor?' Do you think I +shan't succeed? Do you think he'll never care?"</p> + +<p>"You're a far better judge than I am," her brother answered evasively. +"Women feel such things. We——"</p> + +<p>"You feel things, too. You know you do, Basil."</p> + +<p>"In an abstract way—not when they're just in front of my eyes."</p> + +<p>"He has told me a lot about himself, anyhow." Aline took up a new line +of argument, out of her own thoughts. "That's a good sign. He is so +reserved with almost everybody—and he was even with me till our last +evening on shipboard. I was telling him about Jim dying in India and +leaving me alone there, almost a girl; and how there was no money; and +how I took up writing and made a success. Then from that we drifted into +talk about success in general; and he told me his whole story—much more +than I'd ever heard from gossip, and a good deal of it quite different. +I took it as the greatest compliment that he should open his heart to +me—and a splendid sign."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I suppose it was both," Norman agreed; and Aline had retired too +far within the rose-bower of happy memories to catch a suggestion of +doubt in his voice.</p> + +<p>"I read once in a newspaper that he'd been a bootblack in Glasgow before +he emigrated," Mrs. West said, as they turned away from the house again +in their walk, and set their faces toward the distant gate. "It wasn't +true. His father was a crofter on a little island somewhere near Skye. I +think it's called Dhrum. I never heard of it before; and he had to +excuse my ignorance, because I'm Canadian! It seems that a branch of the +MacDonald family own the whole place and are great people there—lords +of the isle. His name was MacDonald too, though his family were only +peasants—clan connections, or whatever they call that sort of thing. I +don't understand a bit, and I didn't like asking him to explain. It was +too delicate a subject, though he appeared to be rather proud of his +origin. Scotch peasants are apparently quite different from other +peasants. You'll have to study up the differences and make lots of notes +for the book. I'm no good at anything with dialect, or character sort of +parts. You wouldn't think now, though, that Ian Somerled had ever been a +peasant would you? He talked a lot about his father and +mother—evidently he adored them. He said they'd be miracles anywhere +out of Scotland, but there were many like them there. According to him +there was nothing they hadn't read or couldn't quote by the yard, from +Burns and Scott back to Shakespeare. That was the way he was brought up, +and instead of wanting him to go on crofting like themselves, they were +enchanted because he drew pictures on their unpainted doors and their +whitewashed walls. They saved all their pennies to have him educated as +an artist, and encouraged him—quite different from peasant parents in +books. One day the 'meenister' called, and saw the boy's pictures. He +thought them something out of the ordinary—pictures of castles and +cathedrals they were, with people going in and coming out, and portraits +of friends, and historical characters. After that he took a great +interest in Ian, and taught him Latin and the few other things his +wonderful parents didn't happen to know. When Ian was about thirteen or +fourteen, the 'meenister' tried to get help for the little MacDonald +from the great MacDonald, a disagreeable, cranky old man with one +daughter. They thought they owned the whole world instead of one tiny +island, and the man wouldn't do anything for the child. He simply poured +contempt on 'clan ties.'"</p> + +<p>"That doesn't sound like the great folk of Scotland," said Basil, who +for weeks had been reading little else but Scottish history, Scottish +fiction, and Scottish poetry, in order to get himself in the right frame +of mind for writing "the book." "I haven't come across a single instance +of their being purse-proud or snobbish."</p> + +<p>"These weren't purse-proud, because their purses had nothing in them to +be proud of," Aline explained. "Their branch of the MacDonalds had lost +its money and its love of Scotland. Old Duncan MacDonald was the uncle +of the last lord of Dhrum, who had to go away from his island for good +and let his castle to 'aliens'—English people. When the nephew died +later, Duncan inherited, but never lived at Dhrum. He only came there +once in a while to visit the tenants who'd hired the castle from him, if +they happened to be people he knew, and would 'do' him well. He and his +daughter were mostly in London, where they had a flat, and prided +themselves on knowing no Gaelic. They took pains to show that they +considered the crofter's son a common brat, and resented the +meenister's' expecting them to do anything for his future, just because +his name happened to be MacDonald, and he lived in a hut on a remote +point of their island. Ian didn't lose courage, though; and soon after +the great snub he contrived to work his way somehow to Edinburgh. He +wouldn't take the money his father and mother had saved up for him, +because they were old and had been ill, and needed it themselves. But he +did all kinds of queer jobs, and at last walked into the studio of a +celebrated artist, saying he wanted to pay for some lessons. At first +the man only laughed, but when he saw Ian's drawings, he was interested +at once. He gave him lessons for nothing, and boasted of his protégé to +other artists. It seems that a talent for both portraiture and +architecture is very rare. When Ian was sixteen he won a big prize for +the design of an important building which a lot of prominent architects +had been trying for. Presently it came out that he was only a boy, a boy +who could do wonderful portraits, too, and everybody began taking notice +of him and writing enthusiastic praise in the papers. Some interviewer +falsely reported that he'd called himself a cousin of the MacDonald of +Dhrum, and disagreeable Duncan denied the relationship indignantly. He +spoke to some one of Ian's father, who had just then died, as 'an +ignorant old hay-cutter,' and the speech was repeated far and wide. You +can imagine Ian Somerled forgetting an insult to his adored father! He +dropped the name of MacDonald from that day, calling himself Somerled; +and as he was all alone in the world—his mother was dead, too, and had +never seen his success—he resolved to make a reputation in another +country. Of course that was very <i>young</i> of him. He sees that now. He +crossed to New York in the steerage, and vowed he'd never set foot in +Scotland again, or take back his name of MacDonald, until old Duncan not +only openly claimed him as a cousin, but begged him as a personal favour +to return to Scotland."</p> + +<p>"That must have seemed like sentencing himself to perpetual banishment," +said Basil.</p> + +<p>"I don't know. He appears to have had a kind of prophetic faith in his +own powers of success. And he was right in every way. Duncan began to +<i>grovel</i> years ago."</p> + +<p>In talking of Somerled, Aline had forgotten to listen for sounds of his +approach. She was interested in the story she was telling—more +interested than she was usually in the development of her own plots. But +luckily Basil saw to the plot-making nowadays, and she hadn't to worry. +"It's funny," she went on, "that a man who laughs at romance should be +one of the most romantic figures in the world. If you and I wrote up his +story, and took him for the hero, all the critics would say 'how +impossible!' But critics will never believe that anything highly +romantic or sensational can happen really. I don't know <i>what</i> their own +lives must be like—or what they can think of the incidents they must +see every day in the newspapers! Somerled says the only romantic thing +he ever did was to annex the name of Somerled: but almost every phase of +his life would make a story. Take his success in America, for instance. +He wasn't eighteen when he landed as an immigrant, with nothing in his +pocket except what was left of the architectural prize. Most of that +money had gone in giving his father a few last comforts, and putting up +some wonderful, extravagant sort of monuments for both his parents, +which Ian designed himself. But he hadn't been two months in New York +when he won a still bigger prize, which came just as he was on the point +of starving! A handful of oatmeal and an apple a day <i>I</i> should call +starvation, but he says it was grand for his health. In six years, at +twenty-four, he was not only the greatest portrait-painter in America, +but one of the most successful architects, an extraordinary combination +which has made him <i>unique</i> in modern times. And before he was +twenty-eight came that big 'coup' of his, which he calls a 'mere +accident that might have happened to any fool'—the buying of a site for +a new town in Nevada, where he meant to build up a little city of +beautiful houses, and finding a silver mine. Of course, it <i>wasn't</i> an +'accident.' It was the spirit of prophecy in him which has always +carried him on to success—that, and his grit and daring and enterprise +and general cleverness. Oh, Basil, if you could have heard him telling +me these things that last night on the <i>Olympic</i>—leaning back in his +deck-chair, smoking cigarette after cigarette (I was smoking too. I hate +it; but I think he likes a woman to smoke and be a man's pal), the +moonlight shining on his face, showing his eyes half shut, and talking +in his quietest way, as if he were dreaming it all over again, or +speaking to himself! I hardly breathed, till he broke off suddenly and +laughed in quite a shy sort of way, ashamed of being 'egotistical,' +though he hadn't praised himself at all. The flowery things I've said +are mine. He even apologized! I felt I'd never had so great a compliment +in my life. It seemed too good to be true that such a man should have +opened his heart to me. But when his invitation for Scotland came, +it—it set the seal of reality on the rest. Do you know, I can't help +believing he made more than he need of his business in London; that the +real truth was he wanted to stay there without us, and see how much he +missed me. Now he's coming to accept <i>our</i> invitation, a day sooner than +he meant to at first. Something tells me the reason why. I shall know +for sure to-night, when I see him. He didn't want us to meet him at the +station. But that was perhaps because—I couldn't have gone very well +without you, and maybe——"</p> + +<p>"I see! I'm to make myself scarce and leave you alone in the garden!"</p> + +<p>"Not yet, dear. Only when we hear the car actually stopping at the gate. +There'll be plenty of time then. And if you don't mind——"</p> + +<p>"Of course, I don't mind," said Basil. He felt that he was blushing +under the cover of darkness, and was thankful Aline could not see. Why +the blush, he could not have explained. Was it for his sister, because +she was managing her love affairs with a famous man in this energetic, +businesslike way, and jumping eagerly at conclusions? Or was it for +himself, because he was selfish and jealous of the new interest in +Aline's life, which would—if it ended as she hoped—take her away from +him and break their partnership?</p> + +<p>He almost wished to accept the latter explanation. He would rather be +disappointed in himself than think meanly—oh, ever so little meanly—of +Aline.</p> + +<p>Their partnership, begun when he was in the depths, regarding his life +as practically finished, had given him the greatest happiness he had +ever known. Memory flashed away at lightning speed over their travels +together, their adventures. Somerled's wife would not write novels. And +deep in his heart Basil knew that Aline's soul was not in the books, as +his was. He would not acknowledge this difference between them, but he +knew it was there. In old days, when Aline had written alone, she had +always chosen some subject that loomed large in public interest at the +moment, whether she herself cared about it or not, hoping to "come in on +the wave." Just because she had not really cared her scheme of work had +not given her success. So it had been with the idea of their first book +written together. Aline had wanted to plan out something to do with +motoring, about which every one was keen just then. She had proposed to +combine business with a cure for her brother; and when she had failed to +think of a "good plot on the right lines," he had made a suggestion +which flashed into his head. The joy of motoring, the wonder of travel, +both new to Basil, had intoxicated him. He wrote as one inspired, for +the sheer love of writing and telling what he had seen and felt. And the +world, catching the thrill of his joy, had shared it.</p> + +<p>He did not say this to himself now, did not realize the truth of it, and +did not even believe that he could go on writing stories and succeeding +without Aline. Only, he knew that he loved his work for itself, and she +did not. That the light of his life would be gone without it, whereas +she would be glad to stop working and be idle as the admired wife of a +celebrity and a millionaire. In this he felt a vague injustice of fate +which depressed him—a rare state of mind for Basil Norman, to whom for +four years the world had been a happy and magically beautiful +dwelling-place.</p> + +<p>"I hear a car now!" he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"It's his!" she answered. "I heard the siren when his chauffeur sounded +it going out of the garage. It's different from any others that pass +along this road. Good-bye for a little while, dear. You're so kind to +me! Wish me luck."</p> + +<p>"I wish Somerled luck," he said, trying to laugh, as he turned and +marched quickly off toward the house.</p> + +<p>Aline quite understood. He meant that Somerled would be lucky to get +her. That was nice of him, and like him, too, for Basil was as gallant +and chivalrous to his sister as a lover. Yet—she was sorry that he +hadn't wished her luck in so many words.</p> + +<p>She walked toward the gate. The car had stopped.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="V" id="V"></a>V</h2> + + +<p>Mrs. Keeling's place, lent to her much-admired authors, had a very +pretty gate. It was approached from the garden way, through an arbour +thickly hung with roses and honeysuckle. It seemed to Aline West, as she +went alone to meet Somerled, that night distilled a special perfume in +the dew-filled cups of the flowers, sweet as unspoken love. She felt +that she was on the threshold of happiness. It was the first step that +counted. If she met Somerled in the right spirit, with the right word +and the right look ... in this perfumed star-dusk and stillness, when +they had not seen each other for days ... and he knew she had been +waiting here for him, thinking of him ... and he saw that she had put on +the dress he liked so much on shipboard, the one she had worn the last +night, when he told her his life-story ... might not the thing that she +desired happen? She encouraged herself by saying, "Why not?" and +reminding herself that she was an attractive woman. Lots of men had been +in love with her—not the right ones, but that was a detail. Why not Ian +Somerled? He was a man, after all, like others.</p> + +<p>He was at the gate already ... she almost ran.</p> + +<p>"Hail, the conquering hero!" she cried to him, laughing.</p> + +<p>He opened the gate. But it was not he who came in. He was opening it for +some one else—a woman, a girl, something tall and feminine, anyhow. It +was wrapped in a cloak. It had a flat pancake on its head for a hat. +What could it be, and mean? The idea darted into Aline's mind that there +had been an accident on the way here from the station; that perhaps +Somerled had nearly or quite run over this creature—or her dog—or +something.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Mrs. West!" he answered her cheerfully. "I've got to you at +last, and I've brought a visitor for the night. I've given my guarantee +that you'll make her welcome."</p> + +<p>The light of Aline's joy went out like a ray of moonlight swallowed up +by a marauding cloud. She did not in the least understand what had +happened, or what were the obligations to which he had committed her; +but in any case the lute she had tuned had a rift in it, a big, bad +rift, and it could make no music to-night. She felt suddenly at her +worst instead of her best, as if she had tumbled off a bank of flowers +in her prettiest frock into a bog. She longed to be cold and snappy and +disagreeable, as a wife may safely be to a husband when he has +blundered, and as she had often been to Jim in his brief day; but +Somerled was not her husband, and certainly never would be unless she +minded her "p's and q's" like a good and very clever little angel with +unmeltable butter in its smiling mouth. So she shrieked, "Hang it!" and +even worse, with her whole heart, and said with her lips, in a charming +voice, "Why, of <i>course</i>! I shall be delighted to welcome any friend of +yours, and so will Basil. I <i>love</i> surprises."</p> + +<p>It was a short arbour, and as they all three came out of it, Mrs. West +and Somerled and the wrapped-up thing with the pancake hat—the +chauffeur following with a suit-case—Aline's eyes made the most of the +starlight, that she might read the mystery and know the worst. The worst +was very bad. Under the stars the girl looked a radiant beauty, and so +young, so young! How was the man going to account for her? Was there +still hope?</p> + +<p>"I told you what Mrs. West would say!" exclaimed Somerled. "This is Miss +MacDonald, a daughter of Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" said Aline. "How interesting! I'm delighted to meet her." She held +out her hand, and the girl, who had not yet spoken a word, put hers into +it.</p> + +<p>There was no real reason why "I'm delighted to meet her" wasn't +precisely the nicest thing to say in the circumstances, but somehow as a +greeting it hadn't quite the right ring, Aline herself felt. And she was +sorry, because she wanted to be entirely satisfactory to Somerled in +every way, in all situations, no matter how trying, and thus perhaps +save the ship. Why not? Many men of thirty-four were bored with girls, +and Somerled must have been bored by them already in their thousands. +Still, something that lay deep down within herself was sad and anxious. +A daughter of the beautiful and almost notorious Mrs. Ballantree +MacDonald! If he weren't in love with the girl, perhaps he had had a +desperate love affair with the mother.</p> + +<p>"I'd no idea that Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald had any children," Aline +went on, as she shook a supple, satiny hand which wore no glove.</p> + +<p>"She's only got me," said the girl, "and she doesn't know she's got me +yet. At least, she may have forgotten."</p> + +<p>Somerled broke out laughing. "You'll puzzle Mrs. West," he said, with a +good-natured, amused, and proprietary air which stabbed Aline's feelings +as with little sharp pins. No, whatever else he might be, he was not +bored. "We'll have to do a lot of explaining by and by, indoors."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," Barrie agreed. And then, plunging into her task, "He found me +in the railway station. I've run away from home, and he wouldn't let me +go to a hotel. Don't you really mind? Because——"</p> + +<p>"Of course I don't mind." Aline rose bravely to the occasion. "It sounds +wildly romantic, like most things that contrive to happen to Mr. +Somerled, although he says he's ceased to believe in romance. Have you +known each other long?"</p> + +<p>"Only to-night," replied Barrie. And Somerled began to see that, as he +had said, there certainly would have to be a lot of explaining. It +almost seemed complicated. Nevertheless, he felt that he had done the +only thing possible, and so far from having regrets, he had a curious +sense of elation that was boyish. He wanted to see what was going to +happen next. He felt as if by some rather nice accident he had been +inveigled into playing a new game.</p> + +<p>"I've known Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald ever since her first famous tour +through America some ten or twelve years ago," he said. "You'll be +amused, Mrs. West, to hear in what a queer way I ran across her daughter +to-night."</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed, no doubt," answered Aline, as they walked toward the +house. She was forcing herself to cheer up a little. His tone in +speaking of the actress didn't sound like the tone of a man in love. And +men of his type, who had been run after and spoilt, surely didn't fall +in love at sight. It was going to prove no more than an annoying +incident, this bringing home of a strange girl, who mightn't be so +desperately pretty, anyhow, in a bright light. To-morrow the creature +would be packed off to her mother or some one; and in a day or two more +Somerled and Basil and she—Aline—would start off on their heavenly +trip as if nothing had happened.</p> + +<p>But Barrie was even prettier in the lamplight of the hall and +drawing-room than she had been in the silver vagueness of starlight. +Aline tried to think that she was the weirdest frump in the world, and +absolutely impossible as a fascinator; but she knew that the weirdness +would be superficial to the eye of Man. The thing was to hurry her away +in all her frumpiness.</p> + +<p>Aline brought them into the low-ceiled drawing-room which, with her own +hands, she had made beautiful with many flowers in honour of Somerled's +coming. She and Basil had been here for several days, while Somerled +attended to business in London, and she had been looking forward to her +friend's comments upon this drawing-room. She had imagined his +exclaiming: "You've made it look like yourself!" But the girl had +spoiled her effects. Somerled merely said, "What a pretty, old-fashioned +room! The green wall is a becoming background." And when he uttered this +comment it was at his vagabond he looked, not at his hostess.</p> + +<p>Barrie was rather remarkable against that green. She glanced around, +evidently in rapt admiration of everything she saw. Her eyes were very +bright and big, her young, red lips a little apart. "Silly thing, gaping +with her mouth open!" Aline relieved her feelings by saying to herself.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's so beautiful here, and Mrs. West's dress is so lovely," the +girl said; "it makes me feel I must take off this horrid cloak and tam, +not to be a blot. May I take them off?" she asked Aline, turning frank +admiration on her, as one turns on a searchlight.</p> + +<p>Aline would have liked to think of some reason for saying "no," such as +a draught, or an immediate departure for upstairs; but even if the +excuse had been valid enough, it would have been of no use, for without +awaiting permission, which she took as a matter of course, the weird +creature had whipped off her green pancake and was throwing back her +cloak. "Not that my dress isn't nearly as bad," she apologized, sighing. +"I have never seen such a pretty room as this."</p> + +<p>It was really nothing wonderful by way of a room: a little oak +panelling; faded green brocade walls; some nice old pastels; furniture +of the Stuart period; pretty bright chintz; a few old Chelsea figures on +the mantel and in a cabinet; quantities of red and white roses in +Chinese bowls. Aline ached to snap, "If you've never seen anything as +pretty as <i>this</i>, where have you lived?" But that was not the way of +Somerled's ideal woman. It would have been better if the stupid thing +had praised Mrs. West's looks, thus riveting Somerled's eyes and +appreciation; but all her silly admiration seemed to be for the dress +and the room. Little brute! Incapable of calling another female pretty, +when a man was present. Just what one would expect of an actress's +daughter, especially <i>that</i> actress, if half one heard of "Mrs. Bal" +were true.</p> + +<p>Aline was inclined to believe that Barrie MacDonald had purposely posed +herself under a hanging lamp, so as to show off her hair when suddenly +uncovered. The daughter of an actress, with the dramatic instinct in her +blood! But the idea did not seem to occur to Somerled, experienced as he +was, disillusioned as he thought himself. At least there was nothing +cynical in the expression of his face.</p> + +<p>"Do let me help you with your cloak," she said to Barrie, dimly hoping +that the man would contrast her exquisitely corseted figure in its dress +by Lucille with the crude, untrained outlines clothed in blue serge. She +was not so tall as Barrie as they stood together, she discovered, and +she wanted the girl to sit down. "You must both have something to eat," +she went on, pulling the old-fashioned bead embroidered bell rope; and +tears were close and hot behind her eyes, remembering how she had +planned the little supper for herself and Somerled—and Basil, who +hardly counted. "Or would you like to see your rooms first? One shall be +made ready directly for Miss MacDonald. I suppose her luggage has come +in with yours?"</p> + +<p>"I have only a—a parcel," Barrie meekly confessed, feeling three times +a worm, even a Laidly Worm. It was odd how this sweet-faced blond woman, +with blue eyes and a halo of fair hair and a gentle smile, contrived—of +course without meaning it—to make one feel the meanest, shabbiest thing +cumbering a beautiful world! "I wonder if I'm going to like men better +than women?" she thought.</p> + +<p>"Ah, a parcel," repeated Aline daintily, as an incredibly neat maid +answered the call of the beaded bell. "Moore," Mrs. West went on, "this +young lady, Miss MacDonald, will spend the night. I think she might have +the room of the red Chinese chintz at the end of my corridor. Please +have it made ready as soon as possible, and——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, is your name Muir?" exclaimed Barrie delightedly. "That's the name +of our housekeeper at Hillard House. Perhaps you're related, though I +never <i>heard</i> of Mrs. Muir having any daughters or nieces."</p> + +<p>The maid, deftly taking the cue from her mistress <i>pro tem.</i>, put into +her impersonal gaze the coldness of a whole glacier as her eyes moved +from defect to defect of Barrie's costume. The tone of that "Ah, a +<i>parcel</i>," was unmistakable, and she knew exactly what Mrs. West thought +of Miss MacDonald. "I am sorry, miss, but I do not think, I am related +to your housekeeper," she replied; and Aline determined to give her a +blouse or half a dozen handkerchiefs. She really was a most intelligent +person. So intelligent was she that she knew by the feeling in her bones +exactly how much Mrs. West wanted to get Miss MacDonald out of the +drawing-room and into the Chinese room, which would be the most +unbecoming in the house to a red-haired person. "I can take the young +lady up now, if you wish, madam," she continued, "for the room is in +order—only to bring towels and hot water."</p> + +<p>Barrie looked pleadingly at Somerled. "I am quite clean," she said. "I +washed at home before I started. And I'm <i>so</i> hungry."</p> + +<p>Her appeal to him as a tried and trusted friend waked up something in +Somerled which he had not known existed. Whatever it was stirred and was +soft and warm in the region of his heart.</p> + +<p>"I'm sure Mrs. West doesn't want to send you away," he said. And he +could have said nothing more tactless. "I, too, am comparatively +spotless," he went on, protecting his protégée by putting himself on her +level, "and superlatively hungry. We shall both be delighted to accept +your invitation to supper." He laughed, and Barrie gave him a grateful, +understanding glance. He felt as if she were a wonderfully pretty doll +which had somehow come alive after he had bought and rescued it from an +upper shelf in an unworthy toy-shop—a dear, delightful, untamed doll +which now belonged to him; and he was not sure that he wanted to let +anybody else play with it until he had begun to tire a little of its +tricks himself. Of course he'd tire in time; but there would not be time +for tiring, because the doll must soon be packed off and sent to its +mother.</p> + +<p>"Tell Mr. Norman that Mr. Somerled has come, and that we're ready for +supper," said Aline to Moore. The eyes of mistress and maid met, and for +an instant they were social equals.</p> + +<p>Basil Norman was a man who had odd thoughts and enjoyed them. For this +reason he did not weary of his own society, for he never quite knew what +he would think next. When he came to the door and pushed it open, he +half believed that he was dreaming the tall, beautiful, badly dressed +girl with torrents of red hair. People in real life did not wear their +hair in torrents. Perhaps she was a ghost who went with the house, and +he had never happened to see her before. He wondered if the others had +noticed her yet.</p> + +<p>"How are you, Somerled?" he inquired, not taking his eyes off the +apparition. It was looking at him, too, almost anxiously, as if it were +wondering whether he would be friend or foe; but, of course, it did not +speak.</p> + +<p>"All right. Very glad to see you both again—and to be here," Somerled +answered.</p> + +<p>"Miss MacDonald," announced Aline, thin-lipped.</p> + +<p>"So you have a name?" said Basil to Barrie. "Was it given to you in +dreamland or the spirit-world?" Then she knew at once that he was not a +foe, but a friend.</p> + +<p>"Fairyland," she replied, beaming on him. "I was in fairyland to-day. If +I hadn't been there, I shouldn't be here." She could answer her own late +question now, with practical certainty. She <i>was</i> going to like men +better than women! Her mother, of course, would be an exception.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="VI" id="VI"></a>VI</h2> + + +<p>It was a delicious little supper that Mrs. West had ordered in +Somerled's honour, yet for some mysterious reason, thoroughly understood +only by Aline, nobody did justice to it or enjoyed it much. Perhaps +there was thunder in the air, which upset the nerves of every one, even +the nerves of Moore, who spilt <i>bouillon</i> on Miss MacDonald's sleeve. +This was the explanation which occurred to Basil; and certain it was +that the sky had suddenly clouded over, hiding all the stars.</p> + +<p>"I do hope we're not going to have rain for our trip," he remarked, more +for the sake of something to say than because, even if rain came, it +were likely to last. "It's just the ticklish time of the month for +weather, you know: to-morrow we shall have the new moon."</p> + +<p>"The heather moon!" Barrie said softly, looking out of the open window +at the purple night, purple as heather.</p> + +<p>"What do you mean by a heather moon?" asked Basil, interested. "It +sounds sweeter than honeymoon."</p> + +<p>"It's the sweetest moon of the year," the girl answered. "The moon when +all the most beautiful things ought to happen to the people who are +worthy of them—and the honeymoon can't come till afterward. I've always +wanted something romantic to happen to me in the heather moon; yet +nothing ever has, so far. It couldn't, at Grandma's!"</p> + +<p>"But you haven't explained the heather moon," Basil reminded her.</p> + +<p>"Don't you <i>really</i> know?" She opened her eyes very wide as she smiled +at him in a friendly, childlike way; and Basil and Somerled forgot that +there was a Mrs. West in the room. It was a momentary lapse of memory, +but Aline felt it electrically. She was enraged at Basil, and disgusted +with Barrie, though merely grieved with Somerled.</p> + +<p>"<i>There's</i> a minx for you!" thought Moore, who was plain, and had been +chosen by Mrs. Keeling because her teeth stuck out more than the lady's +own.</p> + +<p>"Wait! I believe, as a good Scotsman, I can guess," said Somerled. "The +heather moon's the moon of August, the moon when the heather's in its +prime of bloom."</p> + +<p>"Yes!" cried Barrie, joyous that it should be he, her first friend, the +friend of her mother, who had solved the puzzle. "That's it: and it's +the moon for falling in love. That's why the honeymoon has to come +afterward." Then, seeing that Mrs. West was looking at her with a look +that might mean astonishment or disapproval, she blushed. It was queer, +but for a minute that pretty, quite young woman—if widows could be +called <i>quite</i> young—had an expression almost like Grandma's.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I do hope I haven't said anything horrid?" Barrie appealed from one +to another. "You see, I never dared say anything at all about love +before Grandma or Heppie, but it is talked about so <i>much</i> in books, I +thought I might mention it in company. I'm sorry if I've not been +maidenly, which Miss Hepburn is always telling me I'm not."</p> + +<p>"I suspect most maidens think a good deal about love whether or no they +talk of it, don't they, Norman?" said Somerled.</p> + +<p>"How should I know?" Basil asked.</p> + +<p>Both men were different from their everyday selves to-night. They seemed +self-conscious.</p> + +<p>"Why, it's your business to know. You write novels. Or do you leave all +the love parts to your sister?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose widows may talk as much as they like about love," said Barrie +reflectively, "having had it and passed it by."</p> + +<p>The creature was pretending to take for granted that widows were poor, +<i>passée</i> things who had lived their lives and could have no more +personal interest in heather moons or honeymoons! Mrs. West grew pale, +and was angry with herself for caring. Barrie made her feel faded—a +"back number." She told herself that if she could not get rid of this +girl the first thing to-morrow, she should be ill.</p> + +<p>"You must ask your mother these questions, and she'll answer them better +than I can," Aline said in her pretty voice, with her gentle smile.</p> + +<p>Already she had heard from Barrie and from Somerled something of the +girl's story, and knew that through family misunderstandings mother and +daughter had been separated for years. "You must be <i>so</i> impatient to +see her!" she went on.</p> + +<p>"I am," said Barrie.</p> + +<p>"I know Sir George Alexander a little," Aline answered. "He may take a +curtain-raiser of ours; and it's occurred to me to telegraph him in the +morning, as soon as the post-office opens. He'll be able to let us know +where Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald's acting. We won't trust to the stage +papers alone. It would be a pity to keep this child in suspense a minute +longer than necessary. Don't you think it's a good plan, Mr. Somerled?"</p> + +<p>"Very," he agreed. It was a good plan. And it <i>would</i> be a pity to keep +the child in suspense. The pretty doll must be packed up and sent away +where it belonged, whereupon everything would go on as before. And the +heather moon would begin to shine gold on purple, for the trip through +bonny Scotland, which he had planned. He had been looking forward to the +tour, not with keen enthusiasm indeed, but with interest. He had been +satisfied with the companions he had chosen, and the fact that they +wanted to see Scotland had given him an incentive for taking the rest +cure he had been imperatively ordered, in his native land rather than +elsewhere. Once, long ago, self-exiled at the age of Barrie MacDonald, +he had passionately yearned for his "ain countree," and often regretted +the boyish vow he was too proud and obstinate to break. But years had +passed now since Duncan MacDonald and his daughter Margaret visited +America to find themselves worth knowing only as kinsfolk of the +despised peasant. Accepting the situation because of its advantages and +his necessities, the old man had ignored the past and "made up" to the +young millionaire artist. Ian's sense of humour had been so tickled +that, to his own surprise, he had laughed and forgotten his youthful +rancour. It struck him as distinctly funny that he had ever taken old +Duncan's waspishness seriously enough to make vows of any sort because +of it. And he saw that indirectly he owed fortune to the haughty lord of +Dhrum. It had amused Somerled a good deal and pleased him a little that +"his highness" (as he called the great one) should implore the "peasant +brat" to become tenant of Dunelin Castle for an unlimited term of years; +that Duncan should chat to newspaper men of his "distinguished relative +Ian MacDonald, who had won fame under the very suitable <i>nom de guerre</i> +of Somerled"; and that "Cousin Ian" should be pressed to meet "Cousin +Margaret." It was a queer world, and nobody in it was queerer than one's +self. So Somerled had felt when, just because the miracle had happened +to free him of his vow, he no longer pined to gaze upon his native +Highlands. He felt at home and happy enough in America; and if being +"happy enough" wasn't quite the beautiful state he had pictured as a +boy, it was full of interest. He had taken Dunelin Castle off its +owner's hands at a high yearly rent, in order that no rich and vulgar +Cockney should become the tenant, but he had never stayed there, though +once, even to have the right of entrance would have seemed a fairy +dream. There were no such things as fairy dreams for him since he had +thoroughly grown up, because in the process of becoming a millionaire he +had ceased to believe in any kind of dreams. Friendships and sympathies +he had vainly longed for in his poverty could be his for the asking or +even without the asking now; and that was the reason he did not feel +they were worth having. He had no use in his heart for little brothers +and sisters of the rich, and in his experienced hardness he was +sometimes unjust to kindly people. But he had liked the novels of Aline +West and Basil Norman before he met the two popular Canadian authors on +shipboard; and learning that they planned to write a "Scotch book," it +had occurred to him that they might all three go about sight-seeing +together. His rest cure had ceased to bore him in prospect; he had +thought with some pleasure of showing Aline Dunelin Castle and the +island of Dhrum. Suddenly, however, Aline's own words damped the +prospect as with a douche of cold water.</p> + +<p>She was perfectly right, too. It would be a very good plan to place the +waif he had picked up as soon as possible in the care of a mother, even +such an extraordinary, incredible mother as Mrs. "Bal" MacDonald: a good +plan for the girl's sake, and for everybody's sake, because it was +arranged to start for Scotland the day after to-morrow. Still, Barrie's +impromptu ode to the heather moon had for a moment irradiated his mind +with a light such as had not shone for Somerled on land or sea since he +had become rich enough to afford the most expensive lighting. Then as +quickly it had died down. He saw himself spinning agreeably through +Scottish scenes with Mrs. West and her brother, and suddenly, +treacherously, he felt that to spin agreeably was not enough to satisfy +him, that it was unworthy of wondrous golden light on purple hills of +high romance. He wanted something more, something altogether different, +and the plans which had contented him looked dull as ditchwater in the +fading glamour. He himself looked dull. Aline looked dull, and for a +moment he almost disliked her sweet blue eyes, her pretty, ever gentle +smile, behind which must lurk some true feeling, or she could not write +those delicately charming books.</p> + +<p>"And don't you think, too," Aline urged kindly, "that we ought to put +Miss MacDonald's poor grandmother out of her misery? I might write a +note to—Hillard House, I think she said?—explaining—er—what has +happened, as well—as well as I could? Let me see, what <i>would</i> be best? +Oh, I could say that by accident her granddaughter had met a guest of +mine, a friend of Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald's; that she wasn't to worry, +because, though her granddaughter refused to return, we would see that +the child reached her mother safely, by to-morrow night if possible. I +can mention Basil, and say we are the writers. If she has heard of us, +that may relieve the poor lady's mind."</p> + +<p>"Grandma hasn't heard of you, I'm sure," said Barrie, "unless you write +religious books; but she won't <i>need</i> her mind relieved. While I was +with her, I think she considered it her duty to take strict care of me; +but now I've gone my own way, she'll see it was predestined. It was just +the same with a Dresden china teapot she inherited. She didn't approve +of it because it was too gay, but she always washed it herself because +it was her father's. When it broke in spite of her, she wouldn't have it +mended, and told Heppie to throw the pieces away."</p> + +<p>"Nevertheless, I must write, and send the letter to Hillard House by +hand," Aline insisted. "If I didn't do that I should not be able to +sleep." She spoke with fervour, for she felt that she must have two +strings to her bow. If "Mother" failed, she must be able to fall back on +"Grandma."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="VII" id="VII"></a>VII</h2> + + +<p>Barrie meant to be up and dressed before any one else in the house, but +she lay awake until long after midnight, an unprecedented thing for her, +and in consequence slept late, making up her accustomed nine hours.</p> + +<p>Usually she fell asleep at ten or soon after, and jumped briskly out of +bed at seven, waked only by her eager desire for renewed life, in a +perfectly new day which no one else had ever seen yet. This morning it +was a repeated knocking at the door which mingled with her dreams and +shook her out of them. What door could it be? Where was she? the girl +wondered for a dazed instant. Then Moore appeared with a breakfast-tray.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. West said not to wake you for early tea," she explained with a +glacial coldness worthy of Hillard House. "Madam and the two gentlemen +are having breakfast out of doors in the summer-house; and when you get +up, miss, I advise you to draw your curtains well across the windows or +you may be seen."</p> + +<p>Barrie wished that she too were having breakfast in the summer-house, +and thought it mistaken kindness on the part of Mrs. West not to have +her called. But, from Aline's point of view, there was no mistake. "I +have let the child sleep," she explained to Somerled and Basil. "It <i>is</i> +such a child, isn't it? And when she wakes up there may be a wire in +answer to mine, which went before eight."</p> + +<p>When ten o'clock struck and still the telegram had not arrived, Aline +asked herself if she oughtn't to go and call on old Mrs. MacDonald, who +had deigned to take no notice of her tactfully expressed letter. Just +then, however, Somerled's chauffeur was seen hovering in the flowery +distance. He had brought two stage papers which his master had sent him +out to buy. Aline was not pleased that Somerled had thought it necessary +to get information on his own account. She would have preferred that he +should trust to her; but she tried to think that perhaps he too was +secretly tired of the girl and wanted to be rid of her. While he was +glancing through the first paper, Moore glided into the summer-house +with a brick-coloured envelope on a silver tray. It was addressed to +Aline, and she opened it quickly, glad to be ahead of Ian with news. +Then she found herself confronting an unexpected difficulty. "Mrs. B. M. +trying new play small towns; will open Edinburgh in five or six days." +With something like a gasp, Aline stopped on the brink of reading the +telegram aloud. Who would have thought of this?</p> + +<p>Her brain worked quickly. She didn't want Somerled to know that "Mrs. +Bal" was so near. He might—make some ridiculous proposal about the +girl—Heaven alone knew what! Men were capable of anything. The +troublesome creature must really go back to her grandmother at once. +Mrs. Bal could easily come to Carlisle and collect her—like lost +luggage—if she cared to be burdened with such luggage. If only Aline +could find some excuse to make Somerled put down that paper and +forthwith go into the house!</p> + +<p>"Is your telegram from Sir George?" he inquired calmly, looking up from +the paper which she longed to snatch.</p> + +<p>For half a second she hesitated, and then said, "No. It's not what I +expected." This was almost true.</p> + +<p>Basil was gazing at her with solicitude. He thought that she had turned +pale. "No bad news from any one, I hope, dear?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"It is annoying," she replied with reserve, and crumpled up the +telegram. "I was stupid to let Moore go—I must send an answer. Mr. +Somerled, it would be too good of you to look for a form on the desk in +the drawing-room."</p> + +<p>"Shan't I——" began Basil.</p> + +<p>"I must ask your advice, meanwhile, about what I'm to say," she cut him +short. Somerled put down the paper on the rustic seat, got up with +alacrity, and started for the house. He would be back in three or four +minutes, and not one of those minutes ought to be wasted. "Don't bother +with questions," she said to Basil, "but if you love me, make those +theatrical papers disappear before Mr. Somerled can read them. I'm going +to change my mind and follow him into the house to write my telegram. +I'll keep him a while talking. If he comes looking for his papers, I +want them to be gone. I depend on you!"</p> + +<p>Without waiting for Basil's promise, she darted away in order to +intercept Somerled before he could finish his errand in the +drawing-room. Of course, it would be easy for him to buy more papers, +but before he could get them, Aline was hoping to have maneuvered the +embarrassing Miss MacDonald out of the house. She counted that Ian would +be long in finding the forms, because men never could find the simplest +things when told to look for them; but Somerled was an exception, and +she only just caught him on the threshold. "After all, I want your +advice instead of Basil's," she said. "Do sit here where we shall be +quiet, and let me consult you." She patted the arm of a big +chintz-covered sofa invitingly, and as she sat down Ian followed suit. +Still she did not know what on earth to say to him. She hoped for an +inspiration at the last instant, as Basil had taught her to do in +arranging a difficult situation between hero and heroine. She wanted to +play heroine now with Somerled as hero. Oh, how much she wanted it!</p> + +<p>She took a long breath which <i>must</i> bring that inspiration at the end of +it, if inspiration were to be of use. And it came at command, as things +good or bad do come if intensely desired. But it was such a thoroughly +objectionable inspiration that she hardly dared snap at it as she +wished, for Aline was not malicious, and disliked malice and all +uncharitableness as she disliked smearing her pink and white fingers +with ink. Still, no alternative idea occurred to her, and Somerled was +waiting. In desperation she had to take what offered, excusing herself +to herself with every word she spoke. Yet through all she could not help +thinking that she was clever, that she had marvellous presence of mind, +and that she was displaying an inventive faculty which would have +surprised Basil, though, of course, he must never know, because men were +often as idiotically conscientious about little things as they were +unscrupulous about big ones.</p> + +<p>"The telegram that came was from Mrs. MacDonald, the child's +grandmother," she heard herself explaining, not forgetting, in her +mental confusion, to rub in the impression of Barrie's unfledged youth. +"I was surprised at not hearing, but this wire is an answer to my +letter. The old lady goes into no particulars, but she says: 'Gravest +reasons why my granddaughter should not join her mother. Hope you in +person will bring her back to me.' Now, dear Mr. Somerled, the little +girl is your protégée. It's for you to say what's to be done with her."</p> + +<p>Somerled did not reply at once. He sat thinking, his hands thrust deep +in his pockets, making a jingling noise with keys or silver, which in +her present mood got upon Aline's nerves extraordinarily. She felt that +if he did not stop jingling and begin to speak she should scream. If he +asked to see the telegram, she was prepared to say that she had torn it +up, as an excuse not to show it to Basil, on second thoughts the affair +appearing to be Somerled's business. Somerled did not, however, make the +request, and Aline was spared an extra fib, at which she was +unreasonably pleased.</p> + +<p>"Well?" she controlled herself to murmur, instead of screaming.</p> + +<p>"I should feel a traitor to give the girl up," he said. "In fact, I +can't do it unless she agrees. I promised not even to advise her that +she ought to go back. She trusted me when I brought her here."</p> + +<p>"Shall <i>I</i> have a little talk with her?" Aline suggested, and never had +her voice been so kind and sweet. Indeed, in her trembling hope, she was +willing to be sweet and kind—with limitations.</p> + +<p>Somerled thought again for a minute, jingling more horribly than ever. +Then, just at screaming-point once more for Aline, he said decidedly, +"No, thank you. From what Miss MacDonald's told us, it's natural her +grandmother should think there are grave objections to Mrs. Bal as a +guardian; but the old lady's two generations at least behind the age. +Youth's at the prow nowadays, and—a mother's a mother, anyhow. We'll +have to give Mrs. Bal a chance to do the maternal act——"</p> + +<p>"She may be far, far away, even in America—or Australia," Aline +objected. "And even if——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mr. Somerled, mother's coming to Edinburgh!" cried a voice at the +long window, and Barrie appeared, waving a newspaper.</p> + +<p>The one unforeseen thing had happened. The vagabond had strayed into the +summer-house and beguiled Basil. Aline knew too well what excuse he +would make if accused: "Why, you didn't tell me <i>she</i> wasn't to look at +the papers!"</p> + +<p>"I've seen the name, 'Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald,'" the detestable girl +went on, pushing into the room without asking permission. "She's going +to 'open,' as the paper expresses it, in a new play called 'The Nelly +Affair,' on Monday night at the Lyceum Theatre. Next Monday! Nearly a +week from now! How can I wait—what shall I do till then?"</p> + +<p>It was to Somerled that she appealed. She made him feel that the +responsibility was his. And it was a bad moment to feel this, because of +Mrs. West's telegram from Grandma. He got up from the sofa, still +jingling the money in his pockets. Looking down at Aline he saw only her +profile and an ear as deeply pink as coral under a loop of blond hair. +Evidently she too was feeling the situation. Good of her to take an +interest! She really was good. She had asked his advice. Now he would +ask hers.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. West and I will talk over a plan I have for you," he said to the +girl.</p> + +<p>"Is it your plan—or hers?" asked Barrie anxiously.</p> + +<p>"It will be both by the time you hear it," he answered, with a +reassuring smile.</p> + +<p>Aline humoured him. "Run away and play, little girl, till the plan is +cooked," she gayly cried. "Play with my brother."</p> + +<p>Barrie backed out, feeling as if she had been half smothered with a +perfumed pillow.</p> + +<p>"Do you guess my plan?" asked Ian.</p> + +<p>"I wonder?" Aline murmured. She could not have spoken aloud just then.</p> + +<p>"It's this. Why shouldn't we take her with us in the car to Edinburgh? +We've lots of room."</p> + +<p>She had known that this would come. All she had done had only hastened +the catastrophe. "That poor old lady," she stammered. "I can't help +sympathizing—being a little sorry for her. Isn't she, then, to be +considered—after bringing up the girl?"</p> + +<p>"You think," he said reflectively, "that she ought to be consulted?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I do!"</p> + +<p>"Very well. Then I'll go and have it out with her myself."</p> + +<p>"The telegram!" thought Mrs. West, her ears more coraline than ever. +"After all," she faltered, "perhaps it would bring about complications. +She might resort to—to something legal. Fancy if she sent the police to +get back her granddaughter."</p> + +<p>Somerled laughed and said nothing. He was not in a mood for argument.</p> + +<p>"He won't go," Aline thought. "Thank Heaven, he hates bother."</p> + +<p>This was true of Somerled as a rule; but his rules had exceptions.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="VIII" id="VIII"></a>VIII</h2> + + +<p>So this was the garden where that strange flower of girlhood had budded +and blossomed. All at once Barrie, in her quaintness, became a readable +riddle to Somerled.</p> + +<p>The two gates in the high wall were kept bolted, but there was a +jangling bell for each, the gate for visitors (it was almost +supererogatory), and the gate for tradesmen and servants. An elderly and +sullenly astonished woman opened the visitors' gate for Somerled, and +made of her lean form a barrier lest he should try to pass. But she +being narrowly built, on somewhat Gothic lines, and the gateway being +broad, Somerled saw past the flying buttresses of her skirts into the +background. And it was this background that explained in a flash why the +girl knew less of life than a bird which has learned to use its wings; +also the reason why she could never return to waste her young years +behind the garden wall of Hillard House. The thought came into +Somerled's mind that it would be interesting to show her the world she +had never seen, not only between Carlisle and Edinburgh, but over the +hills and far away, as far as the purple island of Dhrum, set in its +sunset frame of ocean gold—or even farther. That could not be, of +course, but the picture was pleasant.</p> + +<p>He had prepared himself to be ingratiating; but he realized that +ingratiation was not a successful line to pursue with dragons. Instead +of inquiring politely if Mrs. MacDonald were at home, he said bluntly, +"I wish to see Mrs. MacDonald; I have business with her—not my +business, but hers. And you may tell her I am not The MacDonald of +Dhrum, but <i>a</i> MacDonald from Dhrum, a very different thing."</p> + +<p>He knew well that the name of Somerled would be no "Open Sesame" to this +door, and he rather enjoyed the knowledge. It was clear at once that he +had used the right key. Perhaps no other would have served a stranger. +Anna Case was not a Scotswoman, but the name of MacDonald was respected +within these gates, no matter who bore it, and this dark man, with the +blue eyes that went through you like bright steel blades, didn't look +like one who would claim what he had no right to claim. She bade him +follow her into the house, which he did; into the hall; and so to a +drearier drawing-room than he had ever entered. There had perhaps been +some as gray and grim on his island of Dhrum; but in those days he had +known nothing of drawing-rooms.</p> + +<p>This was not even early Victorian. It was mid-Victorian, and rubbing and +brushing had given the ugly furniture no time to mellow. He sat down on +a horsehair-covered sofa which had two worked worsted cushions, each +stiffly upright in its corner. One represented a dog's head, the other a +bunch of white and yellow flowers with a cold background of steel beads. +On the walls hung a few steel engravings; a meeting of Covenanters; +portraits of unco' guid worthies with sidewhiskers or beards; and some +tortured stags pursued or caught by hounds.</p> + +<p>"Terrible!" he groaned in spirit. "Who'd suppose that such things +existed nowadays?"</p> + +<p>He might appropriately have made much the same criticism of the old +woman who at that instant opened the door and came in, sturdily, in +spite of her limp and the stout stick grasped in a knuckly hand. But as +their eyes met—hers like thick glass panes behind which a burning fire +could be dimly seen—something in her grim spirit spoke to something as +grim and uncompromising far down his nature. To his own surprise he felt +awaking in himself a queer impulse of sympathy for the redoubtable +Grandma. Perhaps, reluctantly, she felt the same for him. But she looked +him in the face, keenly and unblinkingly. "Well, sir," she said, in a +deep voice almost like a man's, and amazingly young and vital, "well, +sir, I do not recognize you, though you have gained entrance to my house +by claiming the name of MacDonald."</p> + +<p>"That is true," replied Ian, who had risen at her coming. "It's the +first time I've claimed the name for many years, though it is mine and +was my father's before me."</p> + +<p>"Who was your father?" the old woman catechized him. "What kin to +Duncan, my dead husband's half-brother?"</p> + +<p>"No kin except by clan ties. You wouldn't have heard of us. My father +was a crofter. His name was David."</p> + +<p>"I well remember that man," said Mrs. MacDonald, "and his wife too when +I lived with my husband on the island in my youth. Let me see—Mary her +name was. They were God-fearing folk, and didn't wear any such grand +clothes as you do, not even for their Sunday best."</p> + +<p>"I paint people's portraits, you see, and have to live in cities," +explained Ian calmly, though he had grown lazy as he grew rich and had +not painted. "My clothes suit my trade and way of life better than my +father's would, I think; though, as for my brains, my father's hat would +have been too big for them."</p> + +<p>"I dare say you are right about the brains. You are that youth who went +off to America under the name of Somerled," Mrs. MacDonald severely +remarked. "I have read of you in the newspapers; but I never approved of +you, sir. It's not man's work, to my mind, smearing canvas with paint, +and encouraging silly women to be vain of their faces."</p> + +<p>"My portraits aren't considered to have that effect," returned Somerled; +"rather the contrary, in some cases. And I'm sorry you don't approve of +me, because that makes a bad opening for what I've come to say. However, +it can't be helped. I know Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald slightly; met her +in America——"</p> + +<p>"If you think an acquaintance with that woman will recommend you to me, +sir, you are mightily mistaken," was the answer he got.</p> + +<p>"I mention it to make you understand why, when I met her daughter last +night, I felt it my duty to do what I could, being of the same name and +not quite a stranger to the family."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you felt it your duty! Then you're the person mentioned in a letter +I received from a certain Mrs. West, according to herself a writer of +books. I do not read her sort of books, and never heard of her. 'Motor +novels' indeed! What worse than nonsense! Little enough sense fools must +have to buy them! If you have come from this Mrs. West, you can tell her +from me, as she has made her bed she may lie in it. She has not taken +under her roof my granddaughter, but the daughter of Mrs. Ballantree +MacDonald, the play actress. I did my best for the girl, striving to +bring her up to be a good and modest woman, despite the bad blood of the +mother who broke my son's heart and killed him, who did what she could, +and has been doing what she could in the years since, to disgrace our +house. I might have known I should strive in vain, and I did know at +heart. Vanity and extravagance and fondness of pleasure were Barbara +Ballantree's undoing. I preserved her daughter from those dangers, and +gave her a religious education. Levity was sternly rebuked in her. She +had no young acquaintances to teach her foolishness, or tell her of her +mother's sin. She was allowed no money to fritter away on vanities, no +silly novels to read, such as those your friends write, no frivolous +pursuits which could distract her mind from duty—yet she is her mother +over again, and, like her mother, runs away from my house by stealth, in +the dead of night."</p> + +<p>"It wasn't ten o'clock when I met her in the railway station," Somerled +defended the absent. "She was then not very stealthily seeking a train +for London, where she expected to find her mother. Mrs. West has written +you, I know, and told you everything that happened. For my part, I've +called to speak of a plan I have in mind for your granddaughter. The +telegram you sent Mrs. West seemed——"</p> + +<p>"The telegram I sent Mrs. West? I've sent no telegram to her nor any +one. I don't send telegrams."</p> + +<p>"Indeed?" stammered Somerled, taken aback. "I understood—Mrs. West +believed the telegram to be from you——"</p> + +<p>"Nothing of the kind. She couldn't have believed it," Mrs. MacDonald +shut him up mercilessly. "She must have been 'romancing,' as I suppose +she would call it. I should call it lying."</p> + +<p>Remembering Aline's words, Somerled also was frankly inclined to call it +lying—on the part of the young woman or the old. He would gladly have +blamed the elder, but reason rebelled. Whatever Mrs. MacDonald's faults +might be, she did not seem to be one who would deliberately tell a lie.</p> + +<p>"But why should Mrs. West?" Somerled asked himself, calling up the +pretty smile, the soft blue eyes of his friend. He had been inclined to +believe her true. He had liked her very much, more than he liked most +women, and had wondered if he might not learn to like her still better +in time. The women he saw oftenest were mostly nervous, exacting, +self-centred creatures, craving constant flattery. Aline was none of +these things. She had many charms, and he had seen few defects; but a +motive for falseness in the matter of the telegram would suggest itself +to his intelligence. He tried to shut the door in its insinuating, +conceited grin.</p> + +<p>"There must be a mistake—somewhere," he mumbled.</p> + +<p>"Not here, anyhow," retorted the old lady.</p> + +<p>"After all, it's apart from the question in hand. But perhaps my plans +for your granddaughter don't interest you?"</p> + +<p>"Not particularly. Still, you may as well tell them. I see you want to."</p> + +<p>"And I see"—Somerled squandered a smile, but only because it came +spontaneously—"I see that you want to hear them, because," he dared to +go on with a flash of his keen eyes into hers, "you <i>do</i> care what +becomes of Miss MacDonald. If you had not got Mrs. West's letter, you +would have had no sleep last night. As it is, knowing your granddaughter +has fallen into safe hands, you can comfortably disclaim anxiety."</p> + +<p>"You seem to fancy yourself a mind-reader, my good sir," returned Mrs. +MacDonald at her haughtiest, or what Barrie would have called her +"snortiest." "Think what you like. It is nothing to me, and thinking +costs naught. As for the hands she has fallen into, what do I know of +them? They may be black with sin for all I can tell. No doubt Barbara +Ballantree's daughter would be just as ready to accept help from such +hands."</p> + +<p>"As a painter, I try to keep mine clean," said Somerled. "I tell you +that in earnest, not in joke, because for the present I've constituted +myself your granddaughter's guardian. My plan is to take her in my +motor-car to Edinburgh, where I shall deliver her safely to Mrs. +Bal—Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald. In the car will be Mrs. West and her +brother, Basil Norman. Have you anything to say against the plan? If you +have, kindly speak now."</p> + +<p>"If I did speak, would it prevent your doing what you've made up your +mind to do?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps not, unless your reasons appealed to my judgment," Somerled +admitted.</p> + +<p>"You're no prevaricator, anyhow."</p> + +<p>"I don't come of prevaricating stock."</p> + +<p>"You don't, if you're David MacDonald's son. He was a humble, +God-respecting man. But you have no humble air. You hold your crest +high."</p> + +<p>Somerled was minded to be impudent and say that in that case he must get +his hair cut; but he refrained. "The atmosphere of this house does not +conduce to humility, madam," he answered instead—and always as they +talked the two looked one another straight and full in the face.</p> + +<p>"H'm!" the old woman grunted. Yet there was something vaguely resembling +a twinkle in the glass-gray eyes, a gleam which Barrie and few others +now living had ever seen; for not more than one or two of her +fellow-beings had ever had the slightest idea how to manage Mrs. +MacDonald, <i>née</i> Ann (scorning an "e") Hillard.</p> + +<p>"Go on your motor trip, then, so far as I care," said she, a permission +which from her was well-nigh a blessing. "It will probably end in a +smash-up before Edinburgh."</p> + +<p>"I think not," said Somerled. "I drive myself, and I know how to drive +rather well."</p> + +<p>"I was not referring to physical results."</p> + +<p>"So I presumed. Nor was I," he retorted.</p> + +<p>If she found the reply enigmatical she did not say so.</p> + +<p>They had not sat down during the conversation. Now, Somerled took a step +toward the door. "I'm obliged to you for receiving me, madam," he said +as a prelude to departure.</p> + +<p>"I received you on the strength of your name," she reminded him.</p> + +<p>"Which I don't intend to disgrace in your eyes."</p> + +<p>"Why in my eyes? They will not long be looking your way."</p> + +<p>"I think they will, as long as I'm in charge of your granddaughter. +That's what I mean."</p> + +<p>"I do not thank you for the assurance. Except that when she's twenty-one +I shall make over certain money of my son's to her, I have washed my +hands of the girl."</p> + +<p>"I haven't. That's not the kind of washing to make them clean."</p> + +<p>"You reproach me, sir!" She glared at him.</p> + +<p>"Not at all, madam. Even if I would venture, there's no need, for I +think your bark is worse than your bite."</p> + +<p>Again she almost twinkled at the wretch's daring. There was excitement +in it, which she had not experienced since early married days. Then she +had had to do with another MacDonald, and even a Hillard could without +disgrace afford to be mastered by a MacDonald of Dhrum.</p> + +<p>"When I've put your granddaughter into more suitable guardianship than +mine," Somerled went on quickly, "I'll write and tell you."</p> + +<p>"Suitable guardianship! It will be some time before I get that letter."</p> + +<p>"I thank you for the compliment."</p> + +<p>"It was not one."</p> + +<p>"You're not to blame if I choose to take it as such."</p> + +<p>"I am not to blame in any way in this matter."</p> + +<p>"There I'm no judge. It's my own actions I must look after." And again +he smiled.</p> + +<p>"I advise you to be careful, sir, between Barbara Ballantree and +Barribel MacDonald. I wish you joy of them both."</p> + +<p>"And what of Aline West?" The question whispered itself in Somerled's +ears.</p> + +<p>But Mrs. MacDonald knew nothing of Aline West. And Somerled was +beginning to think that, for all the boasted sagacity of experience, he +knew not much more.</p> + +<p>"Thank you for your kind wishes," he said non-committally. "And now I +will wish you a good day."</p> + +<p>He put out his hand, and, to her own intense surprise when she thought +of it afterward, Mrs. MacDonald gave hers. Over the prominent knuckles +the old skin lay soft and loose. The grim woman was vaguely pathetic to +Somerled in his youth and strength and full tide of success. The touch +of the would-be iron hand in the velvet glove of faded age made him +conscious of his vast advantage over her. He went away filled with hope, +and a curious new joy of life, which was partly the excitement of +battle.</p> + +<p>"The <i>heather moon</i>!" he found himself saying, as he passed out of the +ill-kept, once lovely garden where Barrie had often dreamed. Perhaps the +thought came then because here and there a patch of heather glorified +the weeds, or perhaps because Barrie's dreams still empurpled their +birthplace.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="IX" id="IX"></a>IX</h2> + + +<p>When luncheon-time drew near and Somerled was absent, Aline's heart +misgave her. It was useless to argue that he must have lingered in talk +with his chauffeur, with whom he had early gone to confer. Reason +offered this explanation, which was plausible, and altogether more +likely than any other; but instinct was deaf to it. Aline wandered +nervously about the house and garden, unable to settle anywhere, and it +was an added vexation to her disturbed spirit that Basil should be +giving himself heart and soul to the entertainment of that dreadful girl +in the summer-house. It was well enough that he should entertain her, +and keep her passive, but Aline would have liked him to be a martyr, +sacrificing his own inclination for his sister's good. She did not wish +to think that there was something about this young, crude creature which +attracted men to her, and caused them to find pleasure in her society. +Aline's head ached, and she could not think consecutively. Again and +again she asked herself, "What shall I do if he has been to see that old +woman and found out about the telegram?" but no clear answer would come. +She could only repeat the would-be consoling words, "But he <i>hasn't</i> +been there. It's silly to think of such a thing. He's not that sort of +man."</p> + +<p>She was in the summer-house with her brother and Barrie MacDonald when +at last Somerled did come. She called to him gayly as he appeared round +the corner of an immense architectural rose-bush, and he answered +pleasantly. He even met her smile with a smile as friendly to the eye, +and there was no definable change in his look or manner, yet—Aline was +filled with a cold fear which chilled the perfumed August noon. Her +perception of the invisible was as sensitive as the needle of a compass +to the thrill of the magnetic north. Her brain suddenly buzzed as if a +hive of bees had been let loose in her head. A voice seemed to be +yelling in her ears accusations: "What a fool you have been—what a fool +you have been. It's all your fault if he has found out. You needn't have +done the thing. It wasn't necessary."</p> + +<p>She feared to meet Somerled's eyes and read condemnation, yet her very +dread forced her to seek them, and learn at once the best or worst, +since suspense was unbearable. It seemed to her that he avoided her +look; that he too was nervous and uncomfortable, while trying to appear +at ease.</p> + +<p>For a moment or two he talked of the car, which he had been to see, and +of a sight-seeing expedition round Carlisle which Basil had proposed for +the afternoon. Then he turned suddenly to Barrie: "I've been thinking +over what we can do for you, Miss MacDonald," he said. "We don't know +where your mother is now, but we do know that she'll be in Edinburgh the +first of next week. Perhaps we might be able to find out her whereabouts +meanwhile, but there'd be delay before we could expect answers to +inquiries, if she's playing small towns in order to knock her new play +into shape. You don't want to go back to your grandmother's. We're +starting off in my car to-morrow. I've undertaken the responsibility of +you, so I'm your guardian <i>pro tem</i>. I couldn't allow you to hang about +alone anywhere. The alternative is, taking you with us in the car. What +do you say?"</p> + +<p>"Me in a motor-car!" exclaimed Barrie, rapturous. "It can't be true."</p> + +<p>"It will be true if you say 'yes.'" Somerled spoke coolly, but it seemed +to Aline that his eyes were alight. They were fixed on the girl, noting +how she paled and flushed. Her face, seen in the golden lights and green +shadows of the summer-house, had the texture of flowers. Aline had not +known it was in her to hate any one so bleakly as she hated Barrie +MacDonald at this moment; and she hated Somerled too, more than she had +hated him last night. She ached to make him suffer as he was making her +suffer. If only she could—if she but had the power!</p> + +<p>This was the blow she had known would fall: the invitation to Barrie. +Now the worst had happened despite the risk she had run for its +prevention. And Somerled would not meet her eyes. Did this mean that he +not only made light of her arguments, but had found out the falsehood on +which they were based?</p> + +<p>"Of course I say 'yes!'" Barrie was gayly answering. "It seems more than +ever as if I were in a fairy story. Travelling for five days, in a real, +live motor-car, to see my real live mother! Oh, if <i>Grandma</i> knew!"</p> + +<p>"She does know," said Somerled. The words spoke themselves. For once +unable to decide quickly and definitely, he had come back from Hillard +House to Moorhill Farm without making up his mind whether or no to tell +how he had spent most of his morning. He had left chance to settle the +question; and now it was settled. Still he did not look at Mrs. West. He +spoke in a commonplace tone, as if Mrs. MacDonald's knowledge of his +plan included no secret knowledge on his part.</p> + +<p>"How do you know she knows?" asked Barrie eagerly, leaning toward him +with elbows on knees, chin in hand, long red plait failing over +shoulder. "You—you haven't <i>seen</i> her?"</p> + +<p>"I have."</p> + +<p>"You met her looking for me!"</p> + +<p>"No, not that."</p> + +<p>"Then you must have been to Hillard House."</p> + +<p>"Yes. I went there to talk with Mrs. MacDonald about you."</p> + +<p>To save her life, Aline could not have kept down her agonizing blush. +Tears started to her eyes. Though she had been half prepared for this +blow, it fell upon her with an almost mortal shock. Ostentatiously, +Somerled was keeping his eyes off her face; and that was worse than if +he had stared straight into her eyes. Her terrible blush must have +touched the consciousness of a blind man. It called Basil's fascinated +attention from the girl; and so stricken did his sister look that he +would have cried out to ask what was the matter had she not sealed his +lips with a glance of desperate command.</p> + +<p>There was no longer a gram of doubt. Somerled knew that Mrs. West had +lied about the telegram, and everything was changed between them +forever. For a moment Aline told herself that there was no hope, there +could not possibly be any; and yet, if he cared for her, would he not +forgive? Was there no way of saving the situation, and turning the +inevitable change into gain instead of loss? She took a quick and +courageous resolution, as a timid woman may when told that her life +depends upon a dangerous operation, to be performed instantly or not at +all.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Somerled," she said, "can I speak to you—just you and me alone for +a few minutes?" As she made her plea, she rose from the rustic seat +where she had been sitting by her brother's side and opposite Barrie.</p> + +<p>"Of course, with pleasure." Somerled rose too, stiff and alert as a +soldier on duty. She hated this stiffness, this alertness. It showed her +that he was sensitively dreading the scene to come, and hiding +reluctance behind a hard, bright shield.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. West," Barrie spoke out impulsively, "if you don't want me to go +in the car, I won't."</p> + +<p>"Of course I want you to go, silly child." Aline tried to withdraw +sharpness from her voice, but it was there, like the sting of a wasp in +a wound. "Even if I didn't think it wise for some reasons, it isn't my +car, you know, but Mr. Somerled's, and he has a perfect right to invite +any guests he likes. Don't imagine that I'm going to talk to him about +<i>you</i>. It's something quite different I have to say."</p> + +<p>Barrie was snubbed into instant silence; but as Aline and Somerled +walked away together they heard her appeal confidentially to Basil, in a +tone of passionate interest: "What <i>shall I</i> do about clothes? I can't +go off in a motor-car with——" The rest was lost in distance.</p> + +<p>The two walked without speaking as far as the big, spouting rose-bush +and the junction where two paths met. Then, choosing the path which +avoided the house, Aline took her life in her hands.</p> + +<p>"You mentioned that telegram to Mrs. MacDonald?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," confessed Somerled. "The subject came up—accidentally."</p> + +<p>"What did she say? I want you to tell me. Afterward I'll explain—why."</p> + +<p>"She said that she hadn't sent any telegram; and I saw at once that you +must have made a mistake."</p> + +<p>"You needn't put it that way to save my feelings!" Aline caught him up, +panting a little, not trying to calm herself. "You knew that I had—told +you a fib. Be honest with me. You must. And I'll be honest with you."</p> + +<p>"I'm glad you're talking to me like this," said Somerled simply, +"because I was puzzled, I admit. I couldn't bear to think——"</p> + +<p>"I know exactly what you couldn't bear to think," she cut in, letting +herself break into a sob. "You thought: 'Mrs. West has told me a +deliberate lie because she's jealous of that child, and doesn't want me +to take her in the car.' Oh, don't deny it. I <i>know</i>. And it's true. I +<i>was</i> jealous, I don't dislike the poor little thing. Why should I? +She's too insignificant, too much a child in intellect as well as years. +But—I wanted you to ourselves. It was horrid of me. Only you can't +imagine how I've looked forward to this trip, ever since the day you +asked us to take it with you. Before that I was bored with the idea of +writing the book we've promised our publishers. Our going with you made +all the difference to me. You see, we got to be such friends on +shipboard—that last night. I <i>am</i> a jealous friend. I admit it. And it +was such a blow to have a stranger thrust upon us—to have <i>you</i> thrust +her upon us—when you might have guessed how I felt, if we're friends. +The telegram this morning was from Sir George. It told me that Mrs. Bal +was coming to Edinburgh. Instantly I <i>knew</i> you'd ask that girl to go +with us there in the car—oh, simply in your kindness of heart to a +waif. But I couldn't bear it. I saw everything spoiled—for us all, even +you. I was like a disappointed child. I had to do <i>something</i>—and on +the impulse I made up that fib. I'm not sorry even now—I think. Yet I +did mean to tell you, sooner or later, the truth. Honestly, I shouldn't +have kept silence long if you hadn't found out. I'm not a coward when +it's necessary to be brave."</p> + +<p>"I see you're not," said Ian. "You—have paid me a great compliment, and +I thank you."</p> + +<p>"You thank me for what—precisely? For telling a fib because I wanted to +keep my friend to myself—if I could?"</p> + +<p>"For liking me well to enough tell it."</p> + +<p>"For liking you well enough! Yet now I've shown my liking—and my +courage, you like me less."</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"You do!"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Prove that."</p> + +<p>"How do you want me to prove it?"</p> + +<p>Aline's voice was thick. She felt broken, but not beaten yet. "Prove +it," she almost whispered, "by sacrificing that girl to—<i>our</i> +friendship. When we go back to the summer-house, tell her you've changed +your mind; that you'll find out at what place her mother is playing now; +and that after all you think it best to send her there at once. You +<i>could</i> find out easily, you know! And I'd take the child myself if you +liked. I'd do that for you, if you'd do what I ask for me."</p> + +<p>"You're only trying me, Mrs. West," said Somerled. "You don't really +wish me to fail the girl."</p> + +<p>"Fail her! What an exaggeration. She <i>wants</i> to go to her mother."</p> + +<p>"At present she wants to go to her mother by motor-car."</p> + +<p>Anger at his obstinacy and her own failure lost Aline her self-control. +"You mean you want the girl in your motor-car!" Her manner made the +words an accusation. But he took the challenge in silence, walking at +her side, his head slightly bent, his hands in his pockets. Aline darted +a glance at his profile. His jaw looked set, and he had the expression +of a man who would give anything to be smoking a cigarette.</p> + +<p>It was too late to grope her way back to the path of tactfulness, and +the hot blood in her temples made her indifferent to his opinion, to the +future, to everything except her own anger and the need to vent it.</p> + +<p>"Silence gives consent," she said bitterly, seeing her hopes lie broken +at her feet, but not caring much yet. Only, she knew dully that she +would care by and by, care to the sharpest point of agony. "Well, so +much for our friendship! I'm sorry. I would have done a good deal for my +part of it, but there's a limit, isn't there? And friendship can't be +all on one side. I'm afraid, if you want Miss MacDonald in your car, +you'll have to get her another chaperon. I don't engage in that +capacity."</p> + +<p>Now there was just one last loophole open for Somerled. He could protest +that Aline had misunderstood him; that he cared not a hang or anything +of that kind whether Miss Barrie MacDonald went to Edinburgh or Jericho; +that the only thing which mattered was Mrs. West's friendship. If he +said this quickly, she would hold out both hands to him and cry a +little, and beg his pardon for being cross. Then they would forgive each +other and everything would be as before, or better. But Aline waited +breathlessly for an instant, and several more instants: and Somerled +said nothing at all. He would have continued to walk slowly on if she +had not stopped suddenly in the middle of the path, and brought him up +short. Already she was beginning to feel the pain of loss and the +weighty irrevocability of everything. "What are we going to do?" she +panted, her breast rising and falling alluringly. Her cheeks were bright +pink, and her eyes brilliant. Never had she been so near to beauty; but +Somerled faced her with a calm very like sullenness.</p> + +<p>"What are <i>you</i> going to do?" he answered her with a question.</p> + +<p>"What do you want me to do?"</p> + +<p>"I want you and Norman to go motoring with me through Scotland, of +course."</p> + +<p>"Thank you. But I've made my point, and I must stick to it. Basil and I +won't go with you if this girl goes."</p> + +<p>"We've quarrelled, then, have we?" he asked. His eyes were blue as the +ice of glaciers in his brown face. His mouth and chin looked hard as +iron; and never had Aline liked him half as well.</p> + +<p>"Yes, we've quarrelled—if you insist," she said.</p> + +<p>"Then I must no longer intrude on you as your guest."</p> + +<p>"You'll go——"</p> + +<p>"Naturally I'll go. I can't stay in your house—it's the same as your +house—when you think I no longer deserve your friendship. On my side, I +think you're unreasonable; but I may be wrong. Perhaps it's I who am +unreasonable, and can't see it. Anyhow, I shall have to go."</p> + +<p>"I won't have Miss MacDonald in the house a minute after you leave," +Aline said, almost threateningly.</p> + +<p>"Why should you? Her packing won't take long, poor child."</p> + +<p>"You'll have to send her back to her grandmother now," Aline warned him, +in a brief flame of defiance.</p> + +<p>"That's impossible. I wouldn't break my promise, even if Mrs. MacDonald +didn't forbid her the house."</p> + +<p>"She can't very well go alone with you to Edinburgh in your car, I +suppose?"</p> + +<p>"She is going to Edinburgh in my car, but not alone with me. Won't you +go too, Mrs. West, and let us forget all this nonsense?"</p> + +<p>"You call it nonsense? That shows how little you understand me, how +willing you are to spoil everything for the sake of this wretched girl! +Basil and I will simply go back to our original plan, and travel through +Scotland together in a hired car."</p> + +<p>"Luncheon is served, madam," Moore announced, at the turn of the path.</p> + +<p>Luncheon—and the world in ruin!</p> + +<p>"Mr. Somerled and Miss MacDonald will not be lunching," said Aline +icily.</p> + +<p>Moore hid surprise by retiring in decorous haste.</p> + +<p>"Good-bye, Mrs. West," said Somerled.</p> + +<p>He held out his hand, looking at her steadily, but she turned and rushed +away from him, crying.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="BOOK_II" id="BOOK_II"></a>BOOK II</h2> + +<h3>ACCORDING TO BARRIE</h3> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Ia" id="Ia"></a>I</h2> + + +<p>When the Great Surprise happened, Mr. Norman and I had just been having +a very nice talk. I'd never expected to know a real author, and of +course I wanted to talk about him, but he would talk about me instead. +He asked me questions in quite a different way from his sister's, though +I can't put the difference into words. I can only feel it. I know his +way made me want to answer him, and hers made me want to slap her. That +is queer, because she was not rude, but soft and gentle.</p> + +<p>Among other things that Mr. Norman teased me to tell, was about the +silly stories which I've always been scribbling secretly ever since the +time when I had to print because I hadn't learned to write. He said that +he would like to see them, but I told him they were torn up, even the +last one, which I stuffed into the chimney in my room before I ran away +from Grandma's. Then he said I must write another, and he would help me. +I <i>was</i> excited when he went on to say that people who took to writing +like ducks to water when they were almost babies, without any one +advising them, generally had real talent. This made me wild to begin +writing again at once, and I envied him because he and Mrs. West had +planned out a story all about their motor trip in Scotland. I thought it +would be the greatest fun to write of things that were actually +happening; but he explained that he wasn't going to bring in the real +people or what they did or said, only the scenery and perhaps a few of +the adventures, glorified a little. I told him that I should enjoy even +more writing things exactly as they were in life; then he argued that if +one did it in that way it wouldn't be a story, but a kind of diary.</p> + +<p>Perhaps this <i>is</i> a kind of diary, but I feel as if I must write it, +especially as, because of what happened while we were talking, Mr. +Norman's story can't be written after all. At least it can't be written +about this trip and this beautiful car.</p> + +<p>That prim maid Moore, who looks as if she'd had a rush of teeth to the +head, minced to the door of the summer-house where we were sitting, and +called us to luncheon. Of course that interrupted our conversation, but +Mr. Norman said it must be "continued in our next," like a serial story +and we'd make the most of our time between Carlisle and Edinburgh. +"You'll let me help you all I can, won't you, Miss MacDonald?" he asked. +I said "Yes," and thanked him; and then he exclaimed, "Let's shake hands +on the compact."</p> + +<p>I didn't know precisely what a compact was, but I shook hands, because +most things which begin with "com" are pleasant. Just as we were giving +the last shake, Mr. Somerled appeared, and I felt myself getting red, +because his eyes looked so blue and fierce, as if he were vexed about +something.</p> + +<p>"We're striking a bargain," Mr. Norman explained. "Miss MacDonald has +promised to let me help her up the ladder of fame as an author. How many +days are you going to give us together in your motor-car?"</p> + +<p>"My dear chap, I'm sorry to tell you that Mrs. West and I have just had +a row," said Mr. Somerled, "and she's backed out of the trip."</p> + +<p>I've always laughed when I've heard or read the expression, "his face +fell"; but faces do fall. Mr. Norman's chin seemed suddenly to grow +inches longer. "Backed out of the trip!" he echoed, as if he couldn't +believe his ears.</p> + +<p>"Yes. I asked her to reconsider, but made a mess of it. I fear there's +no hope that she'll change her mind. She says you and she will take your +trip alone."</p> + +<p>I quite wished that he'd invite Mr. Norman to break off from his sister, +but he didn't. Perhaps that would not have been etiquette. I don't know +anything about such things. The etiquette book Heppie lent me to read +once was too uninteresting, worse than Hannah More.</p> + +<p>Mr. Norman's face went on falling. His sister would not have been +complimented if she had seen it.</p> + +<p>"In fact," Mr. Somerled added, "I'm afraid this is good-bye. Mrs. West +doesn't expect"—he stopped and laughed a little—"doesn't expect Miss +MacDonald and me to stay to luncheon."</p> + +<p>I see now that it was horrid of me, but I clapped my hands, and cried +out, "How thrilling!" Mr. Norman turned red. I hope he didn't think I +was ungrateful. It wasn't that at all which made me clap my hands. It +was being coupled with Mr. Somerled in the row, and wondering what was +going to become of us both.</p> + +<p>"It's like Adam and Eve being turned out of Paradise, by the Angel with +the Flaming Sword," I said, to make things better; and perhaps it did, +for they both laughed this time, but it was very queer laughter. If +Heppie had heard <i>me</i> laugh like that, she would have accused me of +hysterics. But it was good for Mr. Norman, and stopped his face from +falling. He stammered regrets and apologies and suggestions, and Mr. +Somerled seemed upset, too, though not excited, like Mr. Norman and me. +He went into the house to collect our belongings, and I <i>was</i> thankful +not to meet Mrs. West. She kept out of our way, but one of the servants +helped Mr. Somerled, who has no man to look after him, and another, not +that horrid Moore, offered to help me, but I said, "No, thank you." I +knew she would make fun of my bundle to the others afterward. All the +maids have stick-out teeth in this house, as if they'd been engaged on +purpose, and somehow it makes them seem formidable, like having ogresses +to do your packing.</p> + +<p>Fancy Mr. Somerled, in the midst of his worry, remembering that I might +want to give money to Mrs. West's servants! He doesn't seem the sort of +man who would think of little things like that, but I begin to see +already that it isn't easy to guess what he is like really, unless he +chooses to let one do so. As we were on the way to the house, he said to +me in a low tone, "Here's an installment of what I owe you for your +brooch," and quickly he slipped a lot of gold and silver into my hand, +making my fingers shut round the coins.</p> + +<p>"But you haven't got the brooch yet," I whispered back.</p> + +<p>"I'll trust you," he said, in an absent-minded way, as already his +thoughts had rushed off to something else. And no wonder!</p> + +<p>I gave a ten-shilling piece to the maid, with a grand air which must +have impressed her, because she treated me almost respectfully after +that, and secretly smuggled down my ugly bundle to the front gate, +where, in a few minutes more, Mr. Somerled's big car came to fetch us +away. Some one must have been sent to fetch it, and there were a few +crumbs on the chauffeur's coat, which made me fancy he'd been called +away in the midst of his luncheon, poor man. He must have been +surprised, but he had that ineffable marble-statue look which I've +noticed on the faces of grand coachmen driving high-nosed old ladies in +glittering carriages through the streets of Carlisle. Heppie says that +the true test of a well-trained servant is to show no emotion in any +circumstances whatever; so I suppose this big chauffeur, whose name is +Vedder, must be very well trained indeed. He is a strange looking man, +but very smart, and, being a Cockney, carefully puts all his "h's" in +the wrong place. If he forgets to do this, he goes back and pronounces +the word over again. He travelled to America from London to be Mr. +Somerled's coachman years ago, and then he learned how to drive a +motor-car and be a mechanic, because he couldn't bear to have his master +tearing over the earth with any one else. Mr. Somerled told me all this, +coming from the railway station, when he was bringing me to Moorhill +Farm.</p> + +<p>Mr. Norman saw us off, and was very cast down as Mr. Somerled's luggage +was put on the car, but he was so loyal to his sister, that he would not +say much except, "I'm sorry!" over and over again.</p> + +<p>I was afraid that Mr. Somerled would drive (as he told me the night +before he liked driving his own car) and leave me sitting alone in the +immense gray automobile, which has a glass front and a top you can put +up or down. But to my joy he got in beside me, and let Vedder take the +wheel in those large, well-made hands which carry out the marble-statue +idea. I had no notion where we were going; and Vedder drove so slowly +that I guessed he was expecting further instructions.</p> + +<p>As soon as we were safely away from the gate I asked the question +burning on my tongue: "You <i>won't</i> take me to Grandma?"</p> + +<p>"I thought you trusted me as I trusted you," was the only answer Mr. +Somerled condescended to make.</p> + +<p>Suddenly I saw myself a selfish pig. "I do trust you," I insisted. "But +I <i>ought</i> to want to go back of my own accord, rather than let you give +up—things—for me. I'm nothing to you——"</p> + +<p>"You're Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald's daughter, and—er—a fellow-being."</p> + +<p>"If it comes to that, I suppose a worm's a fellow-being. But this worm +has turned, and would as soon cross the path of a perfectly ravenous +early bird as go to its grandmother. So I won't do that, even for your +sake, though you've been so kind; but I wish you'd drop me at the +station where you found me, and let me travel to Edinburgh by train. I +can wait there for mother——"</p> + +<p>"Nonsense!" he broke in; a word he seems devoted to, as he has already +used it several times to pound down some suggestion of mine as if he +were breaking it with a hammer. He has the air of a man used to getting +his own way with the world, anyhow with women, and I can't think it good +for him; though Mrs. West's one idea apparently is to do what will +please him, not fussily, but gently and sweetly; so that must be what +men like. I should pity him if he lived with Grandma! I suppose it is my +living with her for so long which makes me feel like going against +strong, dictatorial people, just to see what they will do. With him, +that plan would be exciting. It is ungrateful of me, but I long to +contradict him about something, it doesn't matter what, and try my +naughty little strength against his, like a headstrong, conceited mouse +pitting itself against a lion.</p> + +<p>I had no inclination to contradict or fight with Mr. Norman. But he has +pathetic, wistful eyes, asking for kindness, whereas Mr. Somerled's look +bored with things, as if he needed waking up.</p> + +<p>I thought these thoughts while he went on to remind me more gently, that +he'd promised to motor me to Edinburgh, and that he had quite a strong +weakness for not breaking promises.</p> + +<p>"But I give you back this one unbroken, not even cracked," said I. "So +that's different."</p> + +<p>"I don't choose to take it back," said he. "You'll humiliate me if you +refuse to go to Edinburgh in my car—with a competent chaperon, of +course."</p> + +<p>"A chaperon! My gracious!" I couldn't help laughing. "Aren't you +chaperon enough—a great big, grown-up man?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose you think me very old," said he; "and so I am, compared to +you; but I'm afraid—no, I'm <i>not</i> afraid—to tell you the truth, I'm +extremely glad that I haven't come yet to the chaperon age."</p> + +<p>"What is the chaperon age for a man?" I inquired.</p> + +<p>"Seventy."</p> + +<p>"And you won't be that for a long time," I added dreamily, wondering how +old he really was.</p> + +<p>For an instant his eyes waked up thoroughly, and he looked as if he were +in a fury; then he burst out laughing. But his brown face was rather red +when he asked if I would mind mentioning my honest impression of his +age.</p> + +<p>I thought a minute, and then said that perhaps he might be—well, nearly +thirty. He laughed again, and seemed relieved, but wanted to know if +thirty struck me as old or young. I didn't know what to answer, not to +be impolite, so I said presently that I had always thought of thirty as +being the year when you were not middle-aged yet, though anything that +happened to you <i>after</i> your thirtieth birthday couldn't matter. +"Still," I went on, "you look young. Only, there's something important +and decided about you, as if you must have been grown up for a long +time."</p> + +<p>"Not to deceive you, I'm thirty-four," he said. "Now, no doubt, you'll +consider me a sort of Ancient Mariner. Perhaps that's all the better."</p> + +<p>"Looking at you, I can't, even if it would be better," I had to confess. +"You're so alive—so strong, so—almost violent. I can't somehow imagine +that you've ever been younger, or that you can ever grow older."</p> + +<p>Just then, when we'd forgotten the chaperon part of our conversation, +the car slowed down and Vedder made a kind of signal of distress. Mr. +Somerled put his head out through the open window, whereupon I think +Vedder must have reminded him that we were coming into town, wanting to +know what he was to do next. In came Mr. Somerled's smooth black head +again, and he glared at me in a kind of amused desperation. "You must +know some one who would act as your chaperon for a few days, at a good +salary—sent home by train when we'd done with her. That ex-governess or +nurse of yours, you told me about."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Heppie wouldn't be found <i>dead</i> leaving Grandma," said I. "Not that +she loves her. Neither does a mouse love a cat, when it won't try to +escape. It keeps running back and being polite with its eyes bulging +out."</p> + +<p>"There must be somebody else. Think. Has your grandmother any friends?"</p> + +<p>"Dear me, no. She'd scorn it. Only a few acquaintances and a relation or +two, whom she snubs when they come to see her and scolds if they don't. +They wouldn't—but, oh, perhaps Mrs. James <i>might</i>. I wonder?"</p> + +<p>"Where does Mrs. James live?"</p> + +<p>I told him quickly that it was in a little sort of cul-de-sac street +called Flemish Passage, not far from English Street, where Heppie and I +sometimes look at the shops; and I was going on to say more about it and +about Mrs. James, but before I'd time to draw another breath, Mr. +Somerled grabbed up a speaking tube and was talking through it. "Find +Flemish Passage near English Street, and I'll tell you where to stop," +he addressed the back of Vedder's massive head.</p> + +<p>"It's an old curiosity shop, and she keeps it," I hurried to explain, +but that didn't seem to matter to Mr. Somerled.</p> + +<p>"I hope you like the lady's society," was all he said.</p> + +<p>"I love her, and she's an angel, but a very peculiar angel; and Grandma +doesn't call her a lady, so perhaps you won't," I broke the news to him.</p> + +<p>"I daresay your grandmother wouldn't have called my mother a lady," he +replied coolly. "She was an angel, and the cleverest, most gracious +woman I ever knew or expect to know." I did like him for saying this. +And something told me that, in spite of his domineering way with me, he +wouldn't be one to put on high and mighty airs with Mrs. James, as +Grandma does.</p> + +<p>English Street, of course, is the main street of Carlisle and runs north +to William Rufus's Castle that stands looking over the moors toward the +border, eight miles away. Grandma never would let Heppie take me into +the Castle, because it's turned into barracks now, and swarming with +soldiers. She said that her father called soldiers Men of Blood, and +seemed to think that ought to put me off from wishing to go in, but it +didn't a bit, rather the other way round. I love soldiers in books, and +should like to meet some.</p> + +<p>It was near the old Citadel of Henry VIII, where the towers have been +turned into court-houses, that we had to turn off, and it is there that +English Street really begins. It didn't take Vedder long to find Flemish +Passage—which Mrs. James says is named after the Flemish masons William +Rufus brought over to make the Castle, men who settled down afterward to +live in Carlisle. Maybe there were Flemish houses on the spot in those +days—who knows? I love to think there were; and though there isn't a +trace of anything half so ancient as William, Flemish Passage can't have +changed much from what it must have been in the Middle Ages. Even the +people who live there are mostly old, and as the big gray car turned +into the small, quiet cul-de-sac, elderly heads appeared at antique +windows of all the medieval houses. I should think nothing so exciting +had happened in Flemish Passage at all events since Carlisle surrendered +to Prince Charlie. The car looked enormous, as if it were a dragon +swelling to twice its size in rage because it knew there would be no +room for it to turn round when it wanted to get out.</p> + +<p>Mrs. James house used to be like the others till she had the two front +windows thrown into one, and took to keeping a shop. The way she +happened to do that was just as it was with Miss Mattie in that darling +"Cranford" I found with father's name in it; only Mrs. James, of course, +was married and Miss Mattie wasn't. I wanted to tell Mr. Somerled about +her, and how her husband, a distant cousin of Grandma's, was the doctor +that couldn't cure my father. Mrs. James herself wasn't a cousin, and +wasn't even of the north, so Grandma never thought of her, as she has no +opinion of southern people. Mrs. James was Devonshire, and (in Grandma's +eyes) a <i>mésalliance</i> for Richard James. He lodged with the Devonshire +girl's mother when he was a medical student in London, Heppie told me +once; and even Heppie puts on superior airs with Mrs. James, whom she +considers a feckless creature. I have an idea Heppie knew the doctor +before he met his wife, and he was her One Romance; so naturally she +thinks the "James Mystery" wouldn't have happened if he had married her +instead. Of course, though, it could never have occurred to <i>any one</i> to +marry Heppie, whereas Mrs. James must always have been a darling and +very pretty in her fluffy way. Grandma says the "James Mystery" (as it +seemed it was called in the newspapers at the time, when I was very +small) never was a mystery except for "fools or sensation-mongers." I +heard her speak those very words to poor Mrs. James, who has always +called on Grandma once a month, ever since I can remember, though +Grandma does nothing but make herself disagreeable and say things to +hurt Mrs. James feelings, knowing that her one dream of happiness is in +believing her husband still lives.</p> + +<p>Nobody else believes this, Heppie has told me; because Doctor James had +a motive for not wishing to live, "apart from any disappointment in his +home life." After he didn't cure my father there was another case which +he was supposed not to have understood. I don't know exactly what +happened, for my questions weren't encouraged; but he operated on the +person when he ought not, or else didn't operate when he ought; anyhow +the person was a high personage, so there was trouble, and then might +have been a legal inquiry if Doctor James hadn't gone one day to +Seascale, and from there disappeared. His hat was found on the beach, +and a coat, and though his body was never recovered, all the world +except his wife felt sure he had drowned himself on purpose. As for her, +she is perfectly certain that he is alive, and she hopes to this day +that some time he will come to her, or else send for her to go to him.</p> + +<p>He disappeared or died, or whatever it was, seventeen years ago when I +was almost a baby; and he and Mrs. James weren't so very young even +then: but because he admired what he called her "baby face," she has +always tried desperately to keep her looks that he mayn't find her +changed when (she doesn't say "if") they meet again. It is the most +pathetic thing I ever heard of, because in spite of all the troubles she +has had, enough to make her old twice over, she has never lost gayety or +courage. Grandma and Heppie think it wicked and frivolous of her not to +"bow to God's will," but I think she is a marvel, and I love every +little funny way and trick she has.</p> + +<p>I don't know Mrs. James well enough to call her my friend, because I +don't often see her, and we've never been left alone together when she's +called on Grandma; Heppie took me to her house only once, just after +she'd grown poor through the breaking of some savings-bank, and turned +her little drawing-room into an antique shop. I fancy Heppie wanted to +go simply to spy out the nakedness of the land and satisfy curiosity in +Grandma. But I've never forgotten that day, and how brave and bright +Mrs. James was, selling off the pretty old things which she had loved: +heirlooms of her family and her husband's; old clocks, old vases, old +ornaments, and jewels, old china and glass, old samplers and bits of +embroidery or brocade, old furniture, old pictures and transparencies, +and everything of value except old books, which she adored because his +library had been her husband's life. It was clever of her, I think, to +group the treasures together in the little drawing-room with its oak +panelling and beams, its uneven, polished oak floor, and the two +diamond-paned windows which she enlarged and threw into one. It is not +like a shop, but just a charming room crowded full of lovely things, and +every one of them for sale, even the chairs. She wrote cards of +advertisement which the hotel people let her pin up in their halls or +offices, because they respected her pluck, and had liked Doctor James. +Americans and other travellers saw the advertisements, and went to her +house; so by and by Mrs. James made a success with her experiment. When +most of her own antiquites were sold, she could afford to buy others, +just as good or better, to take their places. She never made big sums of +money; but maybe that was because she had debts of her husband's to pay +off, which she kept secret. Besides, she is so generous and kind that +she would give good prices for things in buying, and ask small ones in +selling.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. James: Antiquities;" it says in gilt letters over the door on +which you can still see the mark left by the professional name-plate of +Doctor James. His wife had that taken off before she opened her shop, +because she felt that her going into trade might seem to discredit "his +honoured name."</p> + +<p>That is her great watchword: "his honoured name." I've often heard her +repeat it to Grandma, who invariably snorts and says something to +dishearten or humiliate the poor humble darling who thinks so much of +the Hillard and James families, and so little of herself.</p> + +<p>Opening the door, which rings a bell of its own accord, you walk +straight into the drawing-room, or hall. There's an oak screen which +cuts off your view to the left, and gives an opportunity for surprises; +and straight ahead at the back is a lovely old carved stairway, that +goes up steeply, with two turns and two platforms, where stand tall, +ancient clocks. Behind this hall or drawing-room, turned into a shop, is +a tiny parlour, where Mrs. James spends her few free hours, eats her +tiny, lonesome meals, and faithfully reads nearly every book in her +husband's library, so that she may be an intelligent companion for him +if he comes back. The walls of the parlour are covered with his books, +on shelves reaching up nearly as high as the low-beamed ceiling. Behind +the parlour is the kitchen, which looks into a tiny garden with one +lovely apple tree in it; and a back stairway almost like a ladder leads +to what used to be servants' rooms. Now Mrs. James sleeps in one; and +next door is the young girl, rescued from something or other by the +Salvation Army, who is her only servant. The front part of the +"upstairs," which you reach by the lovely staircase in the shop, is +occupied by a curate-lodger. Heppie says Mrs. James can afford to give +up having a lodger now, and that she keeps him on only because she's +stingy; or else because she thinks it "distinguished" to have some +connection with "Church." But I'm sure it's really because she's so kind +and good-natured, that she can't bear to turn the curate away from rooms +which have been his only home for years.</p> + +<p>She <i>was</i> surprised to see me get out of an automobile with a man! I +know she did see me get out, because she opened the door herself, +exclaiming in her soft Devonshire voice, which has never been hardened +by the north, "Why, Barribel, my <i>dear</i> child, can I <i>believe</i> my eyes?"</p> + +<p>She throws emphasis on a great many words when she talks, which Heppie +says is gushing, and not reserved enough for a true lady; but I like it +when Mrs. James does it, because it sounds cordial, and more interested +in you than any other person's way of talking which I ever heard.</p> + +<p>I introduced Mr. Somerled, and hurried in the next breath to explain +that he was a MacDonald, because that made him seem like a relation, and +she wouldn't think to begin with that I was with a perfect stranger. But +as soon as I said "Somerled," she knew all about him, not only the +history of the first Somerled, which, of course, she <i>would</i> know, but +that this one was a great celebrity. <i>I</i> shouldn't have known that, if +Mr. Norman hadn't mentioned it: and Moore with the teeth told me, too, +that she'd heard Mrs. West say he was "a millionaire." I'm not sure if +Mrs. James knew about the millions, and even if she did, they wouldn't +seem half as important to her as his pictures, which she began to chat +about. Of course they're not as important, because anybody can have +millions by accident, but they can have genius only from what they are +in themselves. I felt more than ever how wonderful it was that he should +be so good to me; a person so flattered and run after; but all the same +I <i>couldn't</i> make myself feel in awe of him. He seemed to me just a Man: +and I wanted as much as ever to see what he would do if I took my own +way and went against him.</p> + +<p>Mrs. James invited us into the house in her cordial, emphatic way, while +our coming and our being together were still mysteries which must have +puzzled her wildly. I saw by the blue flash in Mr. Somerled's eyes that +the artist in him admired the shop-drawing-room, and I thought from his +manner that he had taken a fancy to Mrs. James herself. I am so used to +her looks, from seeing her once a month ever since I can remember, that +I can hardly judge what she is like: and I suppose she <i>is</i> peculiar. +But why shouldn't she try to keep young for the sake of her dream? I +think it's romantic and beautiful, and all one with her efforts to +become the intellectual equal of her lost husband. Grandma and Heppie +sneer after Mrs. James has been and gone, at the long words she uses, +and condemn her for wanting to deceive people into thinking she's much +younger than she is. But that is because they've no romance in them, and +can't understand her true motive.</p> + +<p>Her figure is like a young girl's, though perhaps a little stiffer and +less rounded. She is short, and has the tiniest waist in the world, so +tiny that it must hurt her to breathe, but that is her chief pride, +because "the doctor" (as she always calls him) fell in love at first +sight with her slender waist; and she has never let it measure an inch +more than it did then. A big man could span it with his hands. Perhaps +Doctor James could. She dresses her hair now as he liked best seventeen +years ago, though the fringe looks old-fashioned and odd. Grandma says +her hair is bleached, otherwise it couldn't have kept its yellow colour +at her age, forty-five. But it shines and is a lovely golden. She takes +the greatest pains in doing it, too, even when she's in a hurry on a +cold winter's morning, because she's never sure "the doctor" mayn't +appear that day, to give her a surprise. It would be too bad if, after +all these years, he should walk in and find her not looking her best!</p> + +<p>She has features like a doll's, with large dark blue eyes, and high +arched eyebrows which give her an innocent, expectant expression. Heppie +says she blacks them; but Heppie has no eyebrows at all, so it's +difficult for her to believe in other people's.</p> + +<p>When Mrs. James came to meet us at the door, she had a ladies' paper in +her hand, open at a page where it told you in big letters, "How to be +Beautiful Forever," so I suppose it's true, as Heppie says, that she's +always looking for recipes to keep young. She had on a lavender muslin +dress, very becoming to her fair complexion, which would be perfect if +she hadn't a very few little veins showing in the pink of her cheeks, +and some faint, smiling-lines round her eyes, which you see only if you +stare rudely as Grandma does, to "take down Mrs. James's vanity." +Lavender was the doctor's favourite colour, and she invariably wears one +shade or another of it. She never would go into mourning for him, as +people thought she ought to do when he disappeared.</p> + +<p>I explained everything, talking so fast that I got out of breath, while +Mr. Somerled walked round the room looking at the curiosities. I was +glad no customers came in to interrupt; but luckily there wasn't much +danger at that hour, as it wasn't yet half-past two, and people had +scarcely finished their luncheons. As I talked, she gave little +exclamations almost like the cooing of a dove; and the most desperate +thing in our story seemed to be, in her opinion, the fact that we hadn't +lunched.</p> + +<p>She insisted on giving us eggs and apple-tart and coffee in her own +dining-room, and she let us come into the kitchen and help cook. Mr. +Somerled looked quite young and boyish. We all three laughed a good +deal. Not a word did Mr. Somerled say about my going to Edinburgh or the +chaperon business until we'd finished our picnic meal, and he had +selected several of the best and most expensive things in the shop for +himself. After that, how could Mrs. James refuse him what he called "a +great favour" even if she'd wished to say no, which she didn't. On the +contrary, she was enchanted. Everything had worked together to make her +going possible. The curate had gone off for a holiday, giving her +permission to use his two rooms if she liked. I could have them till we +started; and she would ask a friend from next door to attend to the +shop, a nice girl who often helped her, if she were ill or had to go +away on a "curiosity quest." "Just think!" she exclaimed, "I've never +been to Scotland, though it's only eight miles distant, and I've pined +to go all my life. You'll find that I've a good book-knowledge of the +country, if that's any use, for my dear husband's favourite pastime has +been the study of history. Since he—left Carlisle, I've devoted much +time to following his researches."</p> + +<p>The long words do come so nicely from her pretty little mouth, and she +shapes them with such care, that they seem to issue forth one by one +like neatly formed birds being let out of a cage. She is making a +speciality of pronunciation, and what she sometimes speaks of as +"refined wording." She was a farmer's daughter in Devonshire.</p> + +<p>It was arranged that the girl from next door should be called in at +once, in order that Mrs. James and I might go and buy things. I was rich +on the proceeds of the brooch; for Mr. Somerled counted out the rest of +the money on the parlour table; and Mrs. James abetted him in saying +that fifty pounds was not a penny too much to lend on such a treasure. +But it does seem wonderful! Mrs. James herself must have felt flush +after making such good sales, and her eyes lit at the thought of a motor +hat and coat—they seemed exciting purchases. But when Mr. Somerled +mentioned the fact that mother is one of the best-dressed women in the +world, the little woman looked frightened. "I shan't dare take the +responsibility of choosing an outfit for the child, then," said she +nervously. (I do wish people wouldn't call me "child," though it's nicer +from Mrs. James than Mrs. West!) "Supposing she shouldn't make the +correct impression? Won't you be persuaded to help us, sir, with your +advice about the most important articles?"</p> + +<p>Somehow I feel that Mr. Somerled hates "sir" as much as I hate "child." +I expected him to make an excuse, that he knew nothing about such +things—or "articles," according to Mrs. James. But instead, he snapped +at the suggestion and looked as pleased as Punch. I suppose he doesn't +want me to be a fright and disgrace his car on the journey.</p> + +<p>When Miss Hubbell had come in from the next house, smelling of some +lovely sort of jam which she and her mother had been making, off we +three went in the gray automobile, Mrs. James trying not to look +self-conscious and proud, nor to give little jumps and gasps when she +thought we were going to run over creatures.</p> + +<p>It is many years since she has been to London. I think she was there on +her wedding trip and never since: and besides that expedition, Exeter +and Carlisle are her two largest cities: but, in order to impress the +great artist, she patronized Carlisle, saying we "mustn't hope for +London shops." I longed to catch his eye, because I'm sure he sees +everything that is funny; but it would have been horrid to laugh at the +kind darling, trying to be a woman of the world.</p> + +<p>In the end, it was Mr. Somerled and I who chose everything, even Mrs. +James's motor coat and hat, for she was too timid to decide; and if she +had decided, it would have been to select all the wrong things. I had to +get my dresses ready-made, because of starting for Scotland next +morning, and it was funny to see how difficult Mr. Somerled was to +please. One would have thought he took a real interest in my clothes; +but of course it was owing to his artistic nature. We found a blue +serge—I wouldn't have believed, after my deadly experience, that blue +serge could be so pretty—and a coat and skirt of creamy cloth; and an +evening frock of white chiffon, I think the girl called it. Actually it +has short sleeves above my elbows, and quite a low neck, that shows +where my collar-bone used to be when I was thinner than I am now. It +seems an epoch to have a dress like that. It was Mr. Somerled who picked +it out from among others, and insisted on my having it, though, simple +as it looked, it was terribly expensive. Mrs. James thought I couldn't +afford it, as I had so many things to do with my fifty pounds, but Mr. +Somerled brushed aside her objections in that determined way he has even +in little things. He said that it would be money in his pocket, as an +artist, to paint me in this gown; and that I must sit for him in it. He +would call his picture "The Girl in the White Dress"; and as he'd show +it in London and New York and get a big price, of course he must be +allowed to pay for the dress. Mrs. James seemed doubtful about the +propriety, but he drew his black eyebrows together, and that made her +instantly quite sure he must be right. When she'd agreed to my having +the dress on those terms, she couldn't—as he said—stick at a mere hat, +so he bought me a lovely one to wear with the creamy cloth. He suggested +that I should keep it in the "tire box" while motoring—a huge round +thing on the top of the car.</p> + +<p>"It is just like having a kind uncle, isn't it, my dear?" asked Mrs. +James. But I didn't feel that Mr. Somerled was the sort of man I could +<i>ever</i> think of as a kind uncle, and I said so before I'd stopped to +wonder if it sounded rude. Luckily he didn't seem offended.</p> + +<p>I am writing this in the curate's sitting-room upstairs in Mrs. James's +house. It is night, and we are to start to-morrow morning very early, +because I happened to mention that I'd never seen the inside of Carlisle +Castle, or put my nose into the Cathedral. Grandma does not approve of +cathedrals, and their being historic makes no difference. Mr. Somerled +said that we could visit both, and then "slip over the border." Oh, that +border! How I have thought of it, as if it were the door of Romance; and +so it is, because it is the door of Scotland. I am afraid it must be a +dream that I shall cross at last, to see the glories on the other side, +and find the lovely lady who to me is Queen of all Romance—my mother. +Still, I've pinched myself several times, and instead of waking up in my +old room at Hillard House each time I've found myself with my eyes +staring wide open, in the curate's room, which has a lot of books in it +and a smell of tobacco smoke, and on the mantelpiece Mrs. James's +wedding wreath as an ornament under a glass case.</p> + +<p>Mr. Somerled has gone to a hotel; but he stayed to supper with us, and +Mrs. James brought out all her nicest things. It was much pleasanter +than supper last night at Moorhill Farm, though Mrs. West had lovely +things to eat. I am glad I shall never see Moore again! But I should +like to see Mr. Norman. I could feel toward him as if he were a brother. +But I don't know what to say about my feeling toward Mr. Somerled. I +think of him as of a knight, come to the rescue of a forlorn damsel in +an enchanted forest. After delivering the damsel from one +dragon—Grandma—he is going to take her away with another quite +different sort of a dragon; a well-trained, winged dragon, which people +who don't know any better believe to be only a motor-car.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="IIa" id="IIa"></a>II</h2> + + +<p>I don't know how I dared with such a man, but I talked foolish fairy +talk to Mr. Somerled, <i>alias</i> the Knight, this morning, and he answered +gravely in the same language. I should be doing him a great service, he +said, if I could lead him back to fairyland, because he used to know the +way, but had lost it long ago. He had given up the hope of finding it +again, and until the other day had feared that all the fairies were +dead.</p> + +<p>"If you find fairyland, it ought to be while the heather moon shines," I +told him. "But I shan't have much time to help you look for it, because +in five days you'll be leaving me with mother, and travelling on alone. +You must search for the key to the rainbow wherever you go; because, you +know, it might be <i>anywhere</i>, and the light of the heather moon would +show it gleaming in the grass, or under a flower, or even in the middle +of the road before your eyes."</p> + +<p>He looked at me in an odd, almost wistful way, and I couldn't look away +from him, though I wanted to, for it was as if he were reading my inmost +Me—using my eyes for windows, of which I couldn't draw the curtains.</p> + +<p>"<i>You</i> might find the key, if you haven't got it already," he said. +"Anyhow, I can't find it without your help, But no matter. Perhaps I +shouldn't know what to do with it if I did, now I've grown old and +disillusioned."</p> + +<p>Then I answered, because I couldn't help it under the spell of his eyes. +"You're not old or disillusioned. You're a Knight: and knights who +rescue damsels are always young and brave."</p> + +<p>Before I saw him, if any one had told me a person of over thirty was not +middle-aged, I should have thought it nonsense. But now I see that even +<i>thirty-four</i> is not old. It seems exactly the right age for a man.</p> + +<p>"If you dub me Knight, I christen you Princess," said he, laughing as if +embarrassed, yet pleased. "Because, I confess I wandered near enough to +the border last night, to think of you as a princess who'd been shut up +in a glass retort, as all really nice princesses were in my day, in +fairyland. Now the retort has been opened, though the princess believed +it to be hermetically sealed——"</p> + +<p>"It was the knight who opened it!" I interrupted him. "But did you +<i>really</i> go near to the border?"</p> + +<p>"The border of fairyland."</p> + +<p>"Oh! I meant Scotland. But, after all, to me it seems much the same +thing. Doesn't it to you?"</p> + +<p>"I haven't thought of it so for a good many years," he said. "Yet it +might be——"</p> + +<p>I lost the rest, because Mrs. James came in, ready to start. We had been +standing together in the little sitting-room at the back of the house +while she gave last directions to Miss Hubbell. And I had on my new +serge, of course, with a blouse more fit for an angel than Barrie +MacDonald; and a gray coat and a gray hood with a long gray veil +floating out from it—all the same gray as the car, and chosen to match. +I couldn't help thinking, when I put on the hood before the curate's +looking-glass, that in spite of a green crack across my face and one +purple splash on my eye (it's a very antique glass, not used to girls' +complexions) I really wasn't so bad. Oh, if only mother is pleased! But +of course all mothers must be pleased with their children. One reads a +great deal in books about mother's love.</p> + +<p>We bought two small trunks yesterday, one for Mrs. James and one for me, +of the same gray colour as our cloaks, both made especially for a +motor-car: and Mr. Somerled has a gray trunk too, smaller than mine, +also a thing he calls a suit-case. This morning he brought us each a +present of a little gray handbag, fitted with brushes and combs and a +mirror, and tiny bottles for eau-de-cologne. My fittings look like gold, +though I suppose of course they are only gilded; and Mrs. James's are +silver. She thought it would hurt his feelings if we refused to accept +his presents, though she was brought up to believe that a lady must +never take anything from a gentleman except books, sweets, and flowers. +However, she says she has often found it difficult to conduct life +according to rules of etiquette, as there are so many complications +they've forgotten to put in.</p> + +<p>It was only half-past eight when we started, for we wanted to see the +Cathedral and the Castle. We were going to the Cathedral first, and on +the way we had to pass a big motor garage which has always made my heart +beat just to see, whenever Heppie and I have come to town shopping. I +used to wonder what it would be like to sail through the wide doorway in +a car of my own. Poor me, in my "glass retort," with little chance, it +seemed, of escaping from the dragon to travel in any sort of mobile +except the pillow-mobile into which I used often, to jump at night, and +flash away to far-off countries of dreamland.</p> + +<p>Now, poking its large nose out of that garage was a gray motor (but not +so nice a gray as ours) conducted by a wisp of a chauffeur. He was +driving two passengers, and I bounced on the springy back seat of our +car with surprise as I recognized them. Down went my head mechanically +in as polite a bow as if I hadn't been turned out of her house by Mrs. +West, though, when I realized what I was doing, I was afraid she might +pretend not to know me. It must make one feel such a worm to be ignored +when one has just grinned and ducked! But I needn't have feared. Mr. +Norman took off his cap as impressively as if I were really the princess +of the knight's fairy dream; and Mrs. West bowed, with a sweet, sad look +first at Mr. Somerled, then finishing up with me—just the reproachful, +yet resigned martyr-look a queen ought to give a crowd of rebellious +subjects on her way to the scaffold where their cruelty had sent her.</p> + +<p>Of course, if I had to show this to Mr. Norman, and get him to criticise +my writing as he offered to do, I couldn't put in such things; so +perhaps it's as well I shall have to worry on alone.</p> + +<p>Mr. Somerled, who was driving our car (with Vedder by his side, tooting +a musical horn), took off his cap as beautifully as Mr. Norman did, +without upsetting the steering, though there seemed to be a hundred +things and creatures of all descriptions in front of the motor's big +bright nose at that particular moment. I'd never realized until then +what a crowded, busy place Carlisle is; because it seems that you have a +different set of emotions and impressions especially for use in +motor-cars, and you <i>have</i> to use them there, whether you like or not. I +suppose they lay quiescent in people for thousands of years, between the +epoch of exciting prehistoric beasts and automobiles; but now they come +into play often enough to make up for lost time. Not that I was afraid +in the car, even at first: only it did seem as if all the things that +moved on the face of the earth were aiming directly at us, to say +nothing of what we ourselves were doing to them. Luckily for me, I +trusted Mr. Somerled; and perhaps Mrs. James hadn't quite arrived at +that blissful state, or else she was naturally more timid, for she held +on so fast to the arm of the seat that she tore a glove, and had a +strained expression about her eyes and nostrils, though she beamed in a +painstaking way whenever she caught me looking at her.</p> + +<p>"Who is that pretty blond lady and the handsome dark young man you just +bowed to?" she asked, when we had passed the gray car that was like a +bad copy of ours.</p> + +<p>I told her that the man was Mr. Basil Norman and the lady was Mrs. West, +who had quarrelled with Mr. Somerled yesterday for some reason he +wouldn't explain, but probably because she couldn't be bothered with me.</p> + +<p>"Poor thing, she looked ready to cry!" sighed Mrs. James. "By this time, +I dare say, she's sorry for what she did, and praying for a chance to +make up."</p> + +<p>It would be Christian to pray for it too; but if making up means having +her in this car, I should have to pound the prayer into my heart like a +nail.</p> + +<p>There was no luggage in the other car, so I guessed that they were +trying it, to see whether they might like to hire it for their trip. +And, in spite of Mr. Norman being so kind and different from his sister, +I couldn't help hoping that they might begin with another part of +Scotland from ours.</p> + +<p>I kept on thinking of them as we wound through the traffic, though dear +Mrs. James continued to talk in an approving way, suited to my +intelligence, about Carlisle, and what a wonderful place it was, and how +proud we ought to be of it. How wide and well-built the new streets +were, and how interesting the old ones! How good for the complexion were +the winds that blew from the great moorland spaces beyond the town! I +hadn't thought much about all that myself, but certainly Carlisle is +romantic as a city, because in history you see how it has always been a +solid bulwark of the English, against which tides of invasion dashed +themselves in vain—a sort of watch-tower, whence England gazed out +across the border where danger lay in wait. I can't help turning my mind +to the romantic side of things, though it may be silly; but, after all, +it's just as real as the other side. Both are <i>there</i>, and you can +choose which you like to have for your own, as I said to Mr. Somerled.</p> + +<p>By and by we came to the Cathedral. I had to confess that I'd never been +in, but I didn't mention Grandma's prejudice against cathedrals. I'd +never pined to see the inside as I should if the outside were tall and +graceful and gray, instead of dumpy and red—an ochre-red colour which +is interesting only when the sun shines on it, or when wet and sparkling +with rain, in the midst of its lovely old trees. I almost gasped with +joy and surprise, however, when we entered, for the interior is +wonderful. It is as if the builders had had in mind an allegory about a +plain body and a glorious soul.</p> + +<p>Who would have thought that Mr. Somerled would remember so much history +of this northern country, after living, since he grew up, in America, +and making fame and fortune there? Mrs. James thinks that he even talks +like an American. She is a good judge, because more than half the +customers of her curiosity shop are Americans, and they chat with her +about all sorts of things. She reads her husband's history books, in +order to give him an agreeable surprise when he comes back, and the +knowledge she picks up is money in her pocket, because she can pour out +floods of information upon inquiring tourists. When she's kindly told +them all about the Romans in general and the Augustan Legion in +particular, and the Museum, and William Rufus's Castle; about the +Cathedral having been robbed of most of its nave to rebuild the city +walls in 1644, and Sir Walter Scott being married to his pretty French +bride there (or rather in St. Mary's Church, which was tacked on to it +in those days), and so on, Americans, and even canny Scots, can't sneak +out of her shop without buying something.</p> + +<p>I loved the immense simplicity of that Norman nave, with its huge +crumpled arches crushed into curving waves by the long-ago collapse of +the foundations and the strain of centuries on the masonry. It was a +startling contrast to go from the Norman part into the choir, all a mass +of carving and decoration, with its vast east window of jewel-like +thirteenth-century glass, which Mr. Somerled pronounced finer even than +the windows of York and Gloucester cathedrals.</p> + +<p>It seems that, although he hasn't been in Scotland since he left +seventeen years ago (vowing never to return until something or other +happened), he has been in England several times meanwhile, and travelled +all over Europe. He pretended that he wasn't at all excited about +crossing the border after these many years' exile, but when I cried out +that I couldn't believe him so commonplace and dull, he opened his eyes +wide, as surprised as if I'd boxed his ears. Mrs. James whispered that I +had been rude; and when I stopped to think, I realized how unlike Mrs. +West I had been. She is so gracious and complimentary to Mr. Somerled, +never saying anything she thinks he might dislike. But he heard Mrs. +James's whisper and said, "You must let her alone, please, my Lady +Chaperon, because I have a sort of idea she is going to dig me up by the +roots, and hang me up to air, and altogether do me a lot of good in the +end."</p> + +<p>They both knew much more about the Cathedral than I did, but even I knew +something, because there was a book of father's which I had read. So, +when they'd explained that the beautiful pink columns and the painted +oak screens looked new because Cromwell's men whitewashed everything +when they stabled horses in the Cathedral, and the white wasn't scraped +off till comparatively lately, long after the Cathedral was a prison in +1745, I told them something they hadn't learned, or had forgotten. I was +proud to have a story about Bruce coming to Carlisle to take his oath of +allegiance, before the great repentance, and hating the Cathedral ever +afterward.</p> + +<p>Even the Castle doesn't look as splendid from outside as it really is. +It's like an enormous box, a good deal battered and patched, containing +a kingdom's treasures. But of course I didn't know about the treasures +until I had been in.</p> + +<p>I had set my heart on seeing the place, because, as I said to Mr. +Somerled, I may never come back to Carlisle once I begin to live with +mother and go about with her. It was a blow to be told at the entrance +gate where the public enters (and where there ought to be a moat, but +isn't) that the Castle was closed for repairs. Even a grown-up man like +Mr. Somerled, who has seen everything, looked disappointed; but I +suppose he couldn't fight his way in against the power of England; and +we should have turned ignominiously away if it hadn't been for Mrs. +James. "You are surely not aware," said she in the aristocratic, +long-worded way she has when she thinks of living up to the doctor (and +when she isn't in earshot of Grandma) "of the distinguished identity of +this gentleman. This"—with a wave of her tiny hand—"is the great +portrait painter, Somerled. I will not introduce him as 'Mr.,' for he is +as far above that designation as Shakespeare."</p> + +<p>The poor wretch who had refused us was flabbergasted. "Excuse me a +minute, mum!" he muttered, and darted off to return with a young officer +before "the Great Somerled" had time to remonstrate. But, instead of +devoting undivided attention to the celebrity who must be appeased, the +officer looked at me, and we recognized each other. His face changed, +and I know mine did, because my cheeks felt as if some one had pinched +them. No wonder, because this had been my ideal for almost a year, +before I saw the photographs in shop windows of Robert Loraine, and I +had dreamed several times that I was engaged to him, with a gorgeous +diamond ring, and afterward that I was his widow in one of those sweet +Marie Stuart caps. It almost seemed as if he might see the cap in my +eyes, so I hurried to look down, and appear as calm as if I had never +met him in the street when out walking with Heppie. Once I dropped my +handkerchief, like ladies in books (only I did it on purpose, which they +never do if heroines, not villainesses), and he ran after us and picked +it up. That was, of course, the only time he ever spoke; but, though I +have cared not only for Robert Loraine but Henry Ainley since, I should +have known his voice anywhere. It was disappointing not to thrill; but +to be honest, I must admit that the voice sounded meaningless now, +compared with that of the Knight. Nevertheless, he was saying kind +things, offering to be our guide over the Castle and show us curiosities +that the "ordinary public" is not allowed to see.</p> + +<p>Just as Mr. Somerled was thanking the officer (I soon found out that he +was a lieutenant, named Donald Douglas) I heard other voices behind me. +"Good gracious!" I had just time to think, "it's Mrs. West and Mr. +Norman," when they came round a screen of masonry, and were upon us. As +soon as they saw who we were they stopped, Mrs. West pale, with the same +martyred expression, which grew sweeter and sadder every instant. Mr. +Norman shook hands with us in a cordial but embarrassed way, and the man +who had refused to let us enter at first would have headed the newcomers +off, but Mr. Douglas stopped him.</p> + +<p>"The Castle isn't open for visitors to-day," he said, "but I am making +an exception of Mr. Somerled's party, and as you are friends of his I +shall be delighted to include you."</p> + +<p>"You're very kind indeed; but——" Mr. Norman had to begin answering +because his sister didn't speak, and only looked, looked, looked at "her +friend Mr. Somerled." Her brother awaited a cue until the pause grew +embarrassing, and then the Knight sprang to the rescue of another lady +in distress.</p> + +<p>"We shall be delighted too, Mrs. West," he said.</p> + +<p>That was probably what she wanted, for she beamed on the Soldier Man +(<i>my</i> Soldier Man), and accepted his kindness. Mr. Douglas then put +himself by my side; and Mrs. West annexed Mr. Somerled, or he annexed +her. This left Mrs. James for Mr. Norman, and they hadn't been +introduced: but they began chatting at once.</p> + +<p>Mr. Douglas seemed quite interested when I told him he was the first +soldier I'd ever known outside a book. He asked me if I thought I should +like soldiers, and I said yes.</p> + +<p>Into the heart of the fortress he led us: into the keep, square, +ponderous, forbidding, cool even on a hot August day, and the best part +left now of the proud old fortress.</p> + +<p>Mrs. West had a notebook, a little purple and gold one, like a +doubled-over pansy. As Mr. Douglas (laughing at himself because he was +not experienced as a guide) rattled off all the information he could +remember about Roman foundations—a sack by the Danes; William the +Conqueror, and William Rufus, and a British fort older than the time of +the Romans—she would scribble bits down hastily. But Mr. Norman took no +notes, and when he saw her writing, he looked sad, almost guilty.</p> + +<p>"Did you say the round wall the Britons built is under the keep?" she +asked Mr. Douglas, who is, I feel, the kind of young man you would be +calling "Donald" before you knew what you were doing. "Are there only +three fortresses like this in all England? Do tell me what makes this +unique?" And she looked at him so prettily that if I'd been in his place +I'd have run to her like a dog and fawned at her feet. But he never +stirred, and simply answered across the other people, though she is so +much more intelligent than I—I, who couldn't describe properly what is +a bastion.</p> + +<p>Our guide lit a candle for the dark dungeons, awful places with grooves +worn in the stone floors by the dragging feet of the prisoners, who +paced rhythmically up and down in the tether of their chains. On the +walls, covered with a cold sweat, as of deathless agony, we could see +the staples; and there was one spot of a dreadful fascination, where +Donald Douglas held his candle to show a trail of slimy moisture. Always +this weeping stone had been there, he said, no one knew why; and in old +days, when these dungeons bore the name of the "black hell," prisoners +tortured with thirst used, animal-like, to lick the oozing patch, making +many hollows round it like miniature glacier mills. After Culloden one +hundred and eighty men were thrown in during one night, and only fifty +were alive in the morning.</p> + +<p>It made me feel very loyal to Scotland hearing stories like this—though +I was proud of the Castle too. And I loved the tale of Willie Armstrong, +Kinmont Willie, treacherously given up to Lord Scrope, for the worst +dungeon of all, by troopers who in taking him violated a border truce. +His escape was a real romance; and I am glad Lord Buccleugh, who saved +him, was an ancestor of Sir Walter Scott.</p> + +<p>It was no use appealing to Lord Scrope, the Warden of the West Marches, +for justice, so Lord Buccleugh resolved to make a dash, and rescue the +raider, whom he loved. He got forty men (the English said two hundred, +but I know better), attacked the Castle, took it by assault, and carried +Willie, with fetters still dangling from his wrists, clear away across +the Eden and the roaring Esk, where none dared follow. When Queen +Elizabeth asked him afterward how he had dared, he said, "What is there +a brave man will not dare to do?"</p> + +<p>It was not in the first dungeons that we heard the story of Willie +Armstrong, but later, in the part of the Castle which the public is not +allowed to see. We got there by climbing steep stairs into what are now +the soldiers' storerooms: and it's because they are storerooms that +they're kept so private. Once these rooms too were prisons; and behind +an immense door of oak, almost in darkness, are perfectly wonderful +wall-carvings cut into the reddish sandstone by prisoners: figures of +men and devils; scenes of history; initials woven into ingenious +monograms, Prince Charlie's among them, and hearts interlaced. I wish I +had lived in those days, and I wondered aloud if there were any girls +named Barribel then. Donald Douglas said yes; it was a very ancient and +well-loved Scottish name.</p> + +<p>Stupid people in 1835 tore down most of the tower where Queen Mary was +imprisoned; but they were stopped before it was all gone, so luckily +there is a corner left, with a few graceful carvings on the outer wall. +And only three years ago a wonderful old table was found hidden away in +a dungeon which, it is thought, must have been used as her dining-table, +before she was whisked away from Carlisle to Bolton Castle in 1568. We +saw the table—very dark, very rough, looking like a prehistoric animal +turned to wood; and Donald Douglas said it was perhaps the oldest table +alive in England to-day—as old as King Edward's, and of the shape which +gave an idea later for Tudor tables. As he talked, I could almost see +Queen Mary sitting by this queer piece of furniture eating a poor meal, +and reading some book which might help her forget—perhaps idly +fingering the splendid black pearls which Mrs. James said were bought +last year in a tiny shop in Scotland, kept by descendants of a faithful +maid who went with her to the scaffold. And the shopkeeper, who thought +they were wax beads, lying in an old forgotten box, sold them for ten +shillings!</p> + +<p>They found in another dungeon of the Castle, hidden in a crack of the +wall, a silver snuff-box with a withered finger in it, which must have +been a prisoner's "fetich." But it couldn't have brought him luck; +otherwise, if he'd been released, he would have taken it away with him. +Probably he swung on the hanging beam that sticks out over the window of +the old "condemned cell."</p> + +<p>Next to Queen Mary's table, and perhaps the roof of the keep whence we +could see away over the border into mystery-land, I liked best of all +the Castle things a little deserted house in a courtyard, where Richard +III lived for a while, when he was young. Few people know about it, or +are taken to see it. But it alone would be enough to make the Castle +interesting if there were nothing else. Only a few empty, echoing, +half-ruinous rooms there are, with a queer chimney or two to give +comfort; but Richard's enemies made it a charge against him that he +lived in Carlisle Castle, splendidly housed in sinful luxury. What a +pity all the tales against him were not so little true as that!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="IIIa" id="IIIa"></a>III</h2> + + +<p>We're in Scotland!</p> + +<p>Cæsar could not have revelled in crossing the Rubicon as I revelled in +crossing the border. The very word rings out like the sudden sound of +bells, or the mysterious music that thrills one's blood in dreams.</p> + +<p>Poor Cæsar was obliged to burn his nice boats, and think disagreeable +thoughts about the great responsibility he had taken, whereas we made +our crossing in a beautiful motor-car, and I had no responsibility +whatever. As for disagreeable thoughts, I had a few in England, but the +air of Scotland has chased them away. I see that they were silly as well +as selfish thoughts. I was so wicked that I hoped Mr. Somerled would not +make up his quarrel with Mrs. West. I was afraid that if he did the poor +princess he had rescued would be in his way, and that he would wish her +safely back in her glass retort. Now they <i>have</i> made up, yet somehow I +don't feel in the way. He is so kind, and—yes, I must admit it—Mrs. +West is so tactful.</p> + +<p>It seems that while Mr. Douglas and I were walking and talking together +in Carlisle Castle she apologized to Mr. Somerled. And outside the +entrance gates, when Mr. Douglas had shaken hands, hoping to "run across +us" when he gets leave for Edinburgh, Mrs. West walked up to me. "I've +begged Mr. Somerled's pardon," she said, with her pretty smile which +never changes, "and he has forgiven me, so you mustn't go on thinking me +an ill-natured, bad-tempered person, please; I'm not really. Only we +writing people have 'temperaments,' just as artists have—Mr. Somerled +himself, for instance. My brother scolded me, and I deserved it. He is +<i>so</i> interested in you and your talent for writing, and wants to be your +friend. You won't blame him for my fault, will you?"</p> + +<p>Of course I said no, and she held out her hand. When I'd put mine into +it, she pressed it gently, and before letting it go asked in a lower +voice if Mr. Somerled had told me why they quarrelled.</p> + +<p>I shook my head emphatically as I answered that he hadn't said a word, +and she looked suddenly much happier. "That is <i>like</i> him!" she +exclaimed—if one can exclaim in a whisper. "Well, we must forget what's +passed, and think of the future. Basil and I have hired a car now, and +will travel in it; but that will be all the better for our novel, as +I've just been telling Mr. Somerled, for we shan't have anything to +distract our minds from the scenery and our notebooks. I've begged him +to feel <i>no</i> regrets: for now we're friends again, and we shall meet +constantly, no doubt, without any embarrassment, but a great deal of +pleasure. As for you, dear little girl, you mustn't feel that the cloud +we've passed through need shadow you. It had to do only with us +grown-ups. You have but to 'play dolls' and be happy, until you're +safely tied up in your mother's apron-strings. Not that she's likely to +have any!" And Mrs. West laughed, showing her white teeth that are +almost like a child's.</p> + +<p>"Thank you," I said. "I mean to be happy—<i>very</i> happy!"</p> + +<p>She looked over her shoulder at Mr. Norman, as if giving him a signal, +and he came and talked to me. He said that he had hardly slept all +night, because he was so miserable over what had happened, for every +one's sake, but especially for his own, as he felt that a beautiful hope +had been snatched away from him. "It was the hope of a friendship with +you," he added. "But now we'll take it up just where it fell down, won't +we, finding that it isn't broken after all?"</p> + +<p>While we were shaking hands I heard Mrs. West tell Mr. Douglas that I +was the daughter of Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald, and he seemed immensely +astonished, just as Mr. Somerled had, and Mrs. West and Mr. Norman.</p> + +<p>I wonder why every one is so surprised? Can it be that actresses do not +often have children?</p> + +<p>We bade each other good-bye, all of us, for Mrs. West and Mr. Norman are +going to see some places that apparently Mr. Somerled doesn't care +about; and it isn't quite certain when we shall meet again. "We shall be +like bad pennies, always turning up," Mr. Norman said; and Mrs. West +added quickly to Mr. Somerled, "But if we do, you mustn't feel that +we're tracking you down. The exigencies of authorship force us to be +conscientious sight-seers."</p> + +<p>As she spoke, she gave her brother a look. I don't know what it meant, +but his face had a sad, tired expression, as if there had been some +dispute or argument between him and his sister, and he was sick of it. I +don't feel, somehow, that he's in a good mood for their story-writing +together just now, and I'm sorry for him. I believe he would rather be +motoring with us than with her. Perhaps they have had a difference of +opinion about the plot of their book, for he told me in the summer-house +that he'd suddenly got a new idea for a motor romance, and had lost +interest in the old one.</p> + +<p>When we were ready to start away from Carlisle Castle, Mr. Somerled +condemned Vedder to sit at his feet; but the man seemed to take this +quite for granted, and not to mind in the least. "Would one of you care +to sit beside me?" he asked with so wooden an expression that it was +impossible to guess whether he would prefer Mrs. James or me to say yes. +Selfishly, I wanted him to prefer me, and because he didn't seem to +mind, I pretended not to hear, but went on talking to Mr. Douglas as if +he were the most important person in the world. Suddenly I felt a kind +of power over him, as if I were a grown-up woman in a book, and could +make men take an interest in me. Still, I could quite well hear Mrs. +James answer that she was too great a coward for the front seat, but she +was sure I would love it. Mr. Somerled turned to me then, without +speaking, as if to wait for me to answer, and I couldn't help thinking, +by the look in his eyes, that he <i>had</i> wanted me, in spite of the wooden +expression. So I stopped in the midst of a word to Mr. Douglas, and +said, as meekly as a trained dove, that I should like to sit in front.</p> + +<p>"What a pity you haven't got a congenial, romantic companion in the car, +like that lad," said the Knight, rather sharply, "instead of a war-worn +veteran of over thirty."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'd rather have you, because I feel already as if I'd known you +always," I explained. "And do you know, it didn't seem to me there was +anything romantic about Mr. Douglas, except his name."</p> + +<p>"In that case, you are a little flirt," said he, driving fast. But when +I looked at him in the greatest surprise, he seemed sorry. "I take that +back," he said. "I really don't believe you know yet what the word +means, or what you've done to earn it. Are you contented with me as a +companion, or would you rather have Douglas, or Norman? I should really +like to know, out of sheer curiosity, so you needn't mind telling the +truth, for in any case you won't hurt my feelings."</p> + +<p>"Why, but you are my Knight!" I said. And he asked no more questions +then about personal matters. We talked of the scenery, or he let me +talk, and said that it didn't disturb him in driving. He seemed quite to +take an interest in what I had to say, as if I had been an intelligent +person like Mrs. West. He didn't laugh at the high-flown ideas I've +collected about history, and frontiers between countries, but said that +my enthusiasms were contagious.</p> + +<p>"I'd given up all hope of a thrill at crossing the border," he said. "I +thought it was too late. 'What's long sought often comes when unsought,' +you know—or rather, you don't know yet, and I hope you never will. You +are making me wonder if, after all, instead of putting off my homecoming +too long, I haven't chosen just the right moment."</p> + +<p>I was glad to hear this, though I don't know even now how I managed to +give him that idea, unless by boiling with inward joy, and always +insisting that the world's not old, but young—a wonderful place, where +every flower and bird and every ray of sunlight is worth being born to +see.</p> + +<p>I asked him not to tell me when we came to the border, because I hoped +to know it by instinct; and, as it turned out, I <i>did</i> know. But I think +any one with eyes must have known.</p> + +<p>Out from old Caer Luel, our road had crossed the Eden where Willie +Armstrong escaped, and ran on white and smooth toward the Solway, whose +sands glistened golden in the sun. The tide, which I'd read of as racing +like a horse at gallop, was busy somewhere else, and the river lay +untroubled, a broad, blue ribbon in the sandy plain where Prince +Charlie's men and horses once struggled and drowned.</p> + +<p>Now I knew we must be in the Debatable Lands, the hunting-ground of the +border raiders, beautiful wild land, full of the sound of rivers, voices +of the Teviot and the Eden, the Ettrick and the Yarrow, singing together +and mingling with the voices of poets who loved them. Through the +country of dead Knights of the Road my live Knight of To-day drove +slowly, thinking maybe of dim centuries before history began, when the +Picts and Gaels I have read of fought together among the billowy +mountains; or of the Romans building Hadrian's wall against the "little +dark men"; or of the many heroes, Scottish and English, who had drenched +the heather with their blood since then; or perhaps of himself, and the +days of his boyhood when he said good-bye to bonny Scotland and went to +try his fortune in the New World. Whatever his thoughts may have been, +they made his face at first sad, then hard; I fancied that it was of +himself as a boy he thought, and of his father and mother, whom he will +not see when he goes home; so to bring him out of his brown study I +began to tell him a story Mrs. Muir had told me about the border. It was +the tale of the last Picts, and the secret of the heather ale. All, all +the mysterious little dark people had been swept away in a great +massacre by the Scots after centuries of fighting with the Romans; and +only a father and son were left alive. "Give me thy Pictish secret of +brewing heather ale," said the King of the Scots, when the pair were +brought before him, "and I may perhaps spare thee and thy son."</p> + +<p>Then the dark Pict shut his eyes for a moment, and thought what to do. +He thought that the King would kill him and his son when he had their +secret; and he thought of the mead which had the power of wafting the +Picts to the Land of Pleasant Dreams.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">From the bonny bells of heather,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They brewed a drink langsyne,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was sweeter far than honey,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Was stronger far than wine.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They brewed it and they drank it,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And lay in blessed swound<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For days and days together,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In their dwellings underground.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>When he had thought with his eyes shut, the Pict said that he could not +tell the secret while his son lived, because of the shame he would feel +that his own flesh and blood should know him a traitor. He said this +because he believed they would kill the boy quickly without torture; and +the old man was right, for they bound his son hand and foot, and flung +him out to sea. "Now tell us the secret," they said. But the Pict only +laughed and answered, "Now I will not tell, because there is nothing +more you can do to hurt me." So they killed him quickly too, in their +rage, and the secret of the heather ale died with him.</p> + +<p>Though he liked the story, the obstinate man argued that the last of the +Picts were not really killed in this or any other way; that they had +slowly died out as a race, and had married with the Scots, leaving a +strain of their blood in the land to this day. "You know," he said, +"that Somerled of the Isles married a Pictish princess, and so there's +Pictish blood in the veins of the MacDonalds, in your veins and in mine, +though I'm of cottage birth, and you are of the castle."</p> + +<p>"I know that story of Somerled," I answered, "and how, hero though he +was, he got his princess by a fraud. It makes Kim seem more human."</p> + +<p>"I wonder if his princess thought so?" said Somerled the Second.</p> + +<p>"Why, of course she did," I answered him as if I were in her confidence.</p> + +<p>When I was in Carlisle, and proud of my English birth, I used to like +reading about the great battle of the Solway Moss, where two hundred +English horsemen killed or took prisoners more than a thousand Scots +they'd chased into the bog; but now I've forgotten everything except +that I'm a Scottish lass; and though I'm of the Highlands, and these +were Lowland men, I don't, as I did, love to dwell upon the raid of the +Solway Moss. Still, I could not get it out of my head, and while I +pictured it, as I have to do most things, whether I wish or no, I saw a +bridge—a fine stone bridge, flung like the span of a petrified rainbow +across a small stream.</p> + +<p>"That must be the Sark!" I gasped. "And we've come—we've come to the +border!"</p> + +<p>"Good lass, to divine it!" said he. And how I liked his calling me a +good lass—it was better than princess!</p> + +<p>We crossed the bridge slowly, lingering with half the car in England, +half in Scotland; then suddenly we sprang on gayly, with a rush ahead, +past the famous toll-house, which looked exactly like all its pictures.</p> + +<p>"Ho for Scotland—our ain countree!" I cried; and though he did not turn +to me, I saw his profile looking flushed and glad.</p> + +<p>"Now you should take back your own name of MacDonald again, from this +very minute of crossing the border," I said, when I had drawn in my +first long breath of Scotland. "Somerled's a grand name, yet it was only +the foundation of MacDonald. But I forgot! You've made your fame and +money as Somerled. Which do you love more—your Scottish blood or your +American fame and fortune?"</p> + +<p>"Blood is stronger than water, and fame is running water," he said. "As +for the money, I've cared too much for it—at least for the power it +gave me. I didn't make the most of it with my pictures, and greed led me +to love it better than my true work. That's why I lost the way to +fairyland, little Princess. I buried myself under the 'shields and +bracelets,' and I buried my talents, such as they were. For a while +Somerled tried to deserve the great name he had chosen—but only for a +little while. When by accident he grew rich, he began to wallow. Not a +picture worthy of his boyish ambition has he painted for five years. +What he has done have been 'potboilers.' He forgot that he was an +artist, and wanted only to be a millionaire. Disgusting! Now that I've +told you this, do you—a MacDonald—bid me to take the name again at the +border, where, as a boy, I laid it down—long ago, with high hopes and +vows romantic enough to please even you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," I said, "I, a MacDonald, bid you to take up the name, and with it +all the old hopes and the old ambitions, as you come back into your own +land. Forget your silly money, and remember only that you're an artist +in a lovely motor-car. Won't <i>that</i> make you happy—and a boy again?"</p> + +<p>"Something is making me happy—and a boy again," he echoed.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="IVa" id="IVa"></a>IV</h2> + + +<p>Any dull body who says that the minute you're over the border everything +is not changed, can have no eyes—nor nose, because even the smell is +different. It is—I'm sure it is—the adorable smell of peat. I have +never yet smelt peat, but this is like my dreams.</p> + +<p>Oh, how beautiful everything was as we crossed the span of the stone +rainbow! A fresh wind had sprung up and out of the brilliant sunshine a +shower was spurting, like diamonds set in gold. I saw the dazzling sight +with eyes full of rain and curls.</p> + +<p>"Here we'll find the rainbow key—on <i>this</i> side the bridge, in the +keeping of the Border Saints or Wizards," said I; for the hills and +lowlands that rolled away to the making of Scotland had a colour as if +stained with the fadeless, dried rainbows of centuries. Mingled with +peat was the tea-rose scent of summer rain and of running water, which +is as the fragrance of fresh-cut melons. Clouds like huge white brooms +swept the sky, and surging suddenly round us was a wave of sheep, +charming, reserved, Scottish sheep with ears of a different shape from +the English kind, like those of exaggerated rabbits. They looked at us +with horizontal eyes of pale brass cut across with narrow slits of jet, +and their thick wool, wet with rain, sparkled as if encrusted with +diamond dust. With them was a collie, much collie-er than English +collies, with a pawky Scottish smile. Not that I know what pawky means, +but it seems a word I ought to use at once, now we are on Scottish soil.</p> + +<p>Nobody need tell me that the first houses of Scotland have any +resemblance to the last houses of England. Maybe the country hasn't had +time to change much, just in crossing the bridge. I won't argue about +that. But the houses are as different from English houses as Scotsmen +are from Englishmen. Could you ever mistake a Scot for an un-Scot? No! +Our wide-apart eyes and our dreamy yet practical expression, our high +cheekbones, our sensitive, clear-cut nostrils, and the something +mysterious in our gaze which no one can explain or understand, not even +ourselves, is all our own. I have just found this out since crossing the +border. And am I not a MacDonald of Dhrum?</p> + +<p>I can't say that the first Scots I met—men, women, or children—looked +like descendants of the robber hordes who used to make the Borderland +their home; yet I paid them the compliment to believe they were such. +And you never would dream that the great-great-grandchildren of raiders +could have built for themselves the mild, solid, self-respecting houses +these people have dotted along the road where King Arthur passed, and +where some of the most romantic battles of history have been fought. But +so it is. And there the houses are. The people have found a kind of +stone to build them with, which looks like pressed roses; and there are +door-stones and even gate-stones of such an incredible cleanness, that +some women must devote their whole lives to their service, as nuns do to +prayer.</p> + +<p>Soon we came to the village and the post-office of Gretna Green, +bristling with picture post cards. There was the expected group of +whitewashed, one-story houses plastered with exciting notices: "Old +Priests' Relics," "Marriage Registers Kept," and delightful things like +that. So far, the scene was just what I'd imagined; but there was one +feature in the picture which made me feel I must be dreaming, it was so +surprising and extraordinary.</p> + +<p>In front of the Blacksmith's Shop stood the quaintest vehicle out of a +museum. It was an antique chaise such as no one in the last five +generations can have seen except in an illustrated book, or an old +coloured print. Two handsome gray horses were harnessed to it, looking +quite embarrassed, as if they hated being made conspicuous, and hoped +that they might not be recognized by their smart acquaintances. As we +came gliding past, they turned away their faces, lest our +motor—christened by me Gray Dragon—should regard them with contempt. +By the horses' heads stood a gorgeous, grinning man, dressed in livery +such as postilions may have worn a hundred years ago. Talking to him was +a blacksmith of the same remote epoch, with knee-breeches showing under +a leather apron, a great hammer in his hand, and on his head a high, +broad-brimmed beaver hat balanced on a white wig. Not far off were two +men in modern clothes; and they were placing in position some kind of a +photographic camera.</p> + +<p>When they saw that we meant to stop at the Blacksmith's Shop, they +brightened up, and seemed as much interested as if they had never before +seen an automobile.</p> + +<p>"They're going to take photographs of a Gretna Green wedding of ancient +times, for a biograph show, evidently," said Sir Somerled MacDonald, and +quickly explained to the late prisoner of the glass retort the nature of +a biograph. "Rather a good idea that! Apparently they're waiting for +their chief characters, the bride and groom."</p> + +<p>He was helping Mrs. James to get down from the car, and I had already +jumped out, for, of course, we wanted to visit the old house, and see +everything there was to see, in the place where Shelley (maybe!) and +hundreds of other famous people have been married. But before going in, +we lingered to stare at the chaise, which was rather like an immense +bathtub, the kind we used at Hillard House, where Grandma would have no +such new-fangled innovation as a bathroom. As we stood there, one of the +men with the camera came up, hovered undecidedly, and then said, with a +cough to draw attention to himself: "Excuse me, sir, but will you pardon +the liberty of my asking if you and the young lady will oblige us with a +great favour?"</p> + +<p>Sir Somerled frowned slightly, with his millionaire manner, which is not +so nice as the other. "What is the favour?" he inquired.</p> + +<p>"Why, sir," the man explained, "we're in a bit of a hole. You can see +we're here to reconstruct a runaway wedding for a cinema show. We +represent the North British Biograph Company, and we've been to a lot of +trouble and expense to get our props together. Pretty soon the father's +coach will be along, and we've got all we want except the two principal +figures. The bride and groom we engaged have failed to turn up. We can't +make out what's happened, but they ain't here, and we've searched the +neighbourhood without finding anything we can do with in their place. +The light's just right now, after the flurry o' rain, but by the look o' +the sky it won't last; and altogether it seems as if we'd have our +trouble for our pains unless you and the young lady'd consent to help us +out. If you'll allow me to say so, sir, in costume you'd be the Ideal +Thing."</p> + +<p>For an instant Sir S. looked as haughty as a dethroned king. Then the +funny side struck him, and he laughed. "You flatter us," he said; "but +I'm sorry we can't do what you ask. Perhaps your people will turn up, +after all."</p> + +<p>The poor man looked bitterly disappointed, almost as if he would cry, +and so did the other, who had been listening with enormously large red +ears like handles on a terra-cotta urn. Both men were wet with the rain, +which had fallen sharply and only just stopped as if to welcome us over +the border. The one who had spoken turned sadly away, without venturing +to urge his point (Sir S. isn't the sort of person strange men would +take liberties with), but in retreating he threw one agonized look at +me. I couldn't resist it.</p> + +<p>"Oh, <i>do</i> let's stand for the bride and groom!" I pleaded. And +foreseeing a battle the photographer hastily retired into the background +to let us fight it out. "It would be such fun. I should love it. You +know, I've always vowed to be married at Gretna Green, if at all. And +this would be next best to the real thing."</p> + +<p>I gazed up at Sir S. as enticingly as I knew how, and there was a look +in his eyes that frightened me a little. I was afraid I had made him +angry; yet it wasn't a look of crossness. I could not tell what it +meant, but his voice in answering sounded kind. As usual, when he has +been particularly grave, he smiled that nice smile which begins in his +eyes and suddenly lights up his face.</p> + +<p>"You'd better wait for the 'real thing' and the real man," said he. "Be +patient for a few years. You've plenty of time."</p> + +<p>"I may <i>never</i> get another such good chance," I mourned. "You <i>are</i> +unkind! It would amuse me so much, and it wouldn't hurt you."</p> + +<p>"Do you think that's why I say no?" he asked. "You think I'm afraid?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I do," I insisted. "You're too proud to do what will make you look +silly—because you're the great Somerled."</p> + +<p>"By Jove!" he said, and his face flushed up. "If you say much more I +will do it—and hang everything!"</p> + +<p>"I <i>do</i> say much more!" I cried. "<i>Much</i> more—and hang everything."</p> + +<p>"Very well, then," said he. "Your blood be on your own head."</p> + +<p>"My head's red enough already!" I giggled. "Oh, what fun! You are good, +after all."</p> + +<p>"<i>Am</i> I good, Mrs. James, or am I bad?" he asked, turning for the first +time to her, as if he were half inclined to change his mind. But she +only smiled. "I can't see that there's any real harm," said she. "It +does seem a pity that these poor people should have come all this way +and spent all this money for nothing, don't you think so?"</p> + +<p>"I wasn't thinking of them. I was thinking of Miss MacDonald."</p> + +<p>"I'm thinking of her too," answered Mrs. James, as seriously as if she +were deciding something important. "If you don't mind on your <i>own</i> +account, why——"</p> + +<p>He laughed. "Oh, as to <i>that</i>!—--Well, come along, Miss MacDonald——"</p> + +<p>"Barrie," I reminded him.</p> + +<p>"Barrie! On with our wedding toggery, and let's be quick, if we don't +want an audience."</p> + +<p>He called the photographer rather sharply, and put him out of his +suspense. "You must thank the ladies' kind hearts," he said. "They can't +bear to have your scheme end in smoke. Tell us what you want us to do, +and we'll do it—anything in reason. But you mustn't expect the bride to +show her face. She must keep it turned aside."</p> + +<p>"That'll be all right," said the man, "though, of course, we should have +preferred——But after your great kindness we mustn't ask too much——"</p> + +<p>"Certainly you must not," Sir S. caught him up. And then the other +photographer, who had darted across the road to the chaise on hearing +the good news, opened a bundle that lay on the seat, and hauled out the +contents.</p> + +<p>Mrs. James began to be interested in the game, and the people who lived +in the houses were delighted that they were not to lose their hoped-for +excitement. Luckily, as it was lunching-time for most travellers, the +road was empty, and it seemed likely that we might finish our play +without spectators. The only moving things in sight at the moment, +except our own group, were one cat, two dogs, and a vehicle even more +quaint than the chaise in front of the Blacksmith's Shop. It was a coach +like Cinderella's, though not so pumpkiny. It was drawn by two nice +brown horses who might have begun life as rats. On one rode a postilion, +and out of a window leaned an old man in a tall hat and a brown coat +with brass buttons and a high velvet collar and ruffles at the wrist. +His hair was powdered, and he wore a white stock wound round his throat. +If we had met him on the road, without an explanation, we should have +thought that we had gone mad, or had seen a ghost; but now we knew him +for the bride's angry parent pursuing her relentlessly with a coach and +pair. It did sound odd to hear this fine old English aristocrat bawl out +in a common voice, "Ain't ye ready yet—what?"</p> + +<p>One of the photographers ran along the road and explained and +gesticulated. The coach stopped at a distance. I flew into the +Blacksmith's Shop to put on my wedding things, and Sir S. disappeared +next door with clothes under one arm and a hat under the other. I should +think no bride and bridegroom ever dressed in such a scramble.</p> + +<p>Mrs. James, dimpling and fussing, hustled me into a green brocade gown +which smelt of moth powder, and was so big that it went on easily over +my frock. Then came a purple silk cloak with wide flowing sleeves and a +romantic hood. One of the photograph men stood by to direct us; and when +Mrs. James was putting the hood over my head, he stopped her. "Madam, if +I might ask the young lady to take the pins out of her hair," he begged, +quite red with eagerness, "we shall get a great dramatic effect if it +tumbles down with the pulling back of the hood, just as her lover helps +her out of the chaise."</p> + +<p>Her lover indeed! Sir S. would have glowered; but I laughed, and out +came the hairpins, for the good of the game. I have always had to "make +believe" all alone, so it was extra fun having such a grand playfellow +as Sir Somerled—whether he liked it or not. And I determined that I +would <i>make</i> him like it! I wanted him to play properly, and not be +stiff and disagreeable and grown up. He was ready before I was, and +waiting; for it took a little while stuffing all my hair safely into the +hood, and practising how to let it fall at the right moment. I hadn't +quite realized that my playmate was really handsome, in his dark, proud +way, till I saw him in a wavy brown wig with a ribbon-tied queue, a +broad-brimmed hat that sat dashingly on one side, shadowing his face; a +blue overcoat with a cape, and high boots drawn up to his knees. He +looked so splendid, and so young that suddenly my heart beat as if I +were really and truly in love.</p> + +<p>"If you should look at yourself in the glass," I said, feeling shy, yet, +wishing him to know that he was nice, "you'd never say again that you've +outgrown romance. No one would suspect you of being anything so dull as +a millionaire. You ought to paint your own portrait in that costume."</p> + +<p>"Thanks," said he, "I'd rather do you in yours." But I think he was +pleased.</p> + +<p>The photographer and the postilion both came forward to help, but Sir +Somerled wouldn't let his bride be touched by them. He handed me into +the chaise himself, and sat down by my side. Off trotted our horses to a +little distance, and turned round again. The show was ready to begin.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, the others had been busy. They'd placed an anvil, real or +imitation, on the green in front of the house, for the pictures were all +to be taken out of doors. The blacksmith had begun to hammer away at a +horse-shoe, and that was our signal to dash up to the door. He stopped +hammering, pushed back his hat, and greeted us in pantomime. Sir +Somerled, playing his part well since it must be played, swung me out of +the chaise with an arm round my waist. Down fell my hood and my hair, +blowing round his face and hiding mine. He kissed my hand as the +blacksmith ran off into the house to get his book; and by this time I +was almost as wildly excited as if we had eloped. The camera was +grinding out photographs of everything that happened, no doubt, but just +then I forgot all about it, or that any one was looking at us. We +clasped hands over the anvil, Sir Somerled and I. As the blacksmith made +the motions of marrying us in haste, I looked across at my playfellow, +and at the same instant my playfellow looked across at me. I wanted him +to smile, and he would not! "Please <i>pretend</i> you're delighted to marry +me," I mumbled. "Can't you see by my face how glad I am to get <i>you</i>?"</p> + +<p>"So should I be to get you, if I were the fairy prince," said he, in so +kind a voice it was a pity the biograph couldn't snap it. I squeezed his +hand to thank him for playing up to me, and he squeezed mine to show +that he understood. I felt suddenly that we were the best and truest of +friends. Even meeting my mother can't make up for losing him out of my +life, though he has been in it such a short time, and strayed in only by +accident.</p> + +<p>Whole we stood hand in hand, along came the red coach. Out leaped the +father, as the postilion drew his horses up, and the bride sought refuge +in the bridegroom's arms. It did seem real, and exciting!</p> + +<p>"Too late! We're married," said I. But even that was not the end of the +play. The father had to threaten the bridegroom with his pistol, and the +bride had to throw herself between the two men. I can see now what fun +actresses have. I was quite sorry when it was all over and the biograph +men were packing up to go.</p> + +<p>"We don't know how to thank you enough, miss," said the one who appeared +to be the leader, "for persuading the gentleman. If you'll give us your +address we'll send you reduced copies of the series of pictures."</p> + +<p>An address! I didn't know what to answer, for at present I possess no +such thing, though I thought it would sound queer to say so. I looked +for Sir Somerled, but he had walked away down the road to our motor, +which was hiding from the camera. His back was turned to me, but I could +see that his suit-case had been taken down from its place, and he was +putting something in it.</p> + +<p>"I don't know whether I ought to mention this, miss," said the biograph +man, "but you might be interested to know that the gentleman has bought +the costume you wore in the wedding-scene, and paid a good price for it. +That's what he's packing away now, I presume."</p> + +<p>"Oh! And did he buy his own costume, too?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"No, miss, only yours. I thought you might like to know."</p> + +<p>I did like to know. And I supposed that Sir S. would tell me all about +it when he came back, explaining that he'd got the things for a model to +wear in some picture; but not a word did he say—which puzzled me so +much that all the sight-seeing inside the Blacksmith's Shop could not +take my mind off the mystery.</p> + +<p>I sat in one of the marriage chairs, and looked at the pictures of the +old priests, and read about the many famous runaway couples since 1754, +beginning with Penelope Smith, the prettiest girl of Exeter, who married +Prince Charles of Bourbon, brother to the King of Naples. But all the +time I was thinking hard about myself and Mr. Somerled, and wondering +why he had secretly bought the wedding-dress.</p> + +<p>The guardian of the house made us write our names in the visitors' book, +which Mrs. James thought exactly like signing the register at a proper +marrying. And I said, "If nobody ever asks me to be his real wife, I +shan't be as badly off as other old maids, because, whatever happens, I +have had my wedding—a wedding at Gretna Green!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Va" id="Va"></a>V</h2> + + +<p>We had a bridal sort of luncheon in the car, which was shunted off the +highway into a green shadowed road abandoned to summer dreams. Mrs. +James and I were like the flowers of the field, and had given no thought +to food, or where or how we were to get it. We supposed vaguely that +when we grew hungry we should stop at some inn and eat; but Sir Somerled +had a surprise in the shape of an American invention called a +refrigerator basket, nickel-lined, with an ice compartment walled in +with asbestos or something scientific. He said that it had been a +present, and he'd promised to bring it with him on this Scottish trip, +which it appears he was ordered to take as a rest cure. On the lid of +the basket, in a conspicuous place, is a silver plate, saying, in +beautiful old English letters, "To Ian Somerled, from his grateful +model," and underneath a monogram "M. M." in the raised heart of an +elaborate marguerite. As we ate ice-cold chicken, salad, and chilled +wild strawberries of the north, Mrs. James began with a gay perkiness to +tease Sir S. about the "grateful model," whose name must surely be +Marguerite; but I put a stop to that. The hour after a wedding at Gretna +Green is no tune for talk of any woman-thing except the bride; and as I +may perhaps never be anybody's real bride, I insisted on my rights. This +carrying on of the Gretna Green game rather scandalized good Mrs. James, +but when she scolded me gently for my "childishness," Sir S. said, "Do +let her be a child as long as she can. It would be well for every one of +us if we kept something of our childhood all our lives. Just now I'm +finding childhood gloriously contagious. I don't know how many years +I've thrown off in two days' time, since this child princess commanded +me to play with her."</p> + +<p>This nipped the scolding in its bud (not that I minded it), but I'm sure +dear Mrs. James still thought my bride-game had been played too long, +and she switched the conversation to the real romances of Gretna +Green—so breathlessly thrilling, some of them, that I was ashamed to +hark back to the subject of ourselves. Not that Sir S. wouldn't make a +hero for my romance. I feel that under his quiet, sometimes tired +manner, there's a hidden fire, and I want to find out what he is really +like, if I can. The study of such a man will be more interesting and +even more mysterious than peeping through the keyhole of the garret +door, into what I used to call "fairyland." Already that seems long ago.</p> + +<p>No one would guess, who had only seen Mrs. James with Grandma, how much +the little woman knows, or how nicely she can talk, and I blurted this +thought out, before I stopped to reflect that it might sound rude. An +hour passed like five minutes in listening to her story of the Lord +Chancellor's wedding at Gretna, and Lord Westmorland's shooting of +Banker Child's horse, to save his young bride from capture by her +father; the tale of Robert Burns almost inveigled into marriage by a +pretty girl he met on the road; and best of all the exciting history of +the brave lass of Langholm, who ran through brooks and bushes to snatch +her lover at the last minute from a rival he was marrying in the +Blacksmith's Shop. This last anecdote had been "the doctor's" favourite. +One chapter of his history was devoted entirely to the Old Glasgow Road. +In it he gave three whole pages to the young man's bet and the two +lassies who were ready to help him win it. "The doctor was romantic at +heart," explained Mrs. James, sighing, and pausing with an ice-cold +chocolate éclair in her hand. "All romance appealed to his imagination, +and in his notes he gave much space to Gretna Green, from the day of +Paisley, the first priest, up to the present time, when couples marry in +the Blacksmith's Shop in fun and not in fear. But," she went on, anxious +to impress the great Somerled, "Doctor James gave space in plenty to the +serious history of the Road: the Raider episodes; the journey of Queen +Mary; the march of Prince Charlie's Highlanders in charge of +Cumberland's soldiers, on their way to prison at Carlisle; the tramping +of many penniless Scottish geniuses seeking their fortune in London +town; the visits of famous men like Scott and Dickens, and Edward Irving +the preacher, who made his bride get down from her carriage on the +bridge, and walk on foot into her adopted country, England."</p> + +<p>Mrs. James always grows excited when she talks about the doctor and his +unfinished history of Scotland; and though she'd known Sir S. only a day +and a half, she was mesmerized into telling him secrets Grandma couldn't +have dragged from her with wild horses. She even showed him Doctor +James's photograph, which, in a shut-up velvet case, she had put into +the handbag Sir S. gave her. "Do <i>you</i>, an artist, with your great +knowledge of human faces and the souls behind them, believe a man with +those eyes and that forehead would take his own life to escape scandal?" +she appealed to him. "Wouldn't it be more natural to disappear, trusting +to his wife's faith, until he had made a new career somewhere and won +back the honour of his name?"</p> + +<p>Very gravely Sir S. examined the photograph, which she had painted in +water colours, rather faded now; and I looked at it, though I've seen it +before. Apparently he was sincerely interested in her story, and in the +picture. But then he seems interested always, in a quiet way, in what +people tell him, never interrupting or talking of himself and his +affairs, as Grandma does if any one comes to see her. "You are right, +Mrs. James," he said. "That man is a dreamer, but not a coward. He might +do strange things, but never a contemptible one."</p> + +<p>"Oh, what a judge of character!" she breathed ecstatically. "And how +sympathetic! It's wonderful, in the busy, flattered life you must have +led for many years, how you've kept your kind heart and generous thought +for others. But it's your artistic temperament!"</p> + +<p>The great Somerled laughed and looked embarrassed. "My enemies say that +my 'artistic temperament' has been swamped long ago by my love of +money-making and getting difficult things to turn my way. I think the +enemies are probably right; but you and this princess would dig up any +decent qualities a man might have left, no matter how deep they were +buried under rubbish."</p> + +<p>"How do we dig them up?" I wanted to know.</p> + +<p>"By being children—both of you—in your different ways."</p> + +<p>Then he gave Mrs. James back the faded photograph, with a few more +compliments on the doctor's eyes and the shape of his forehead. It was +time to be starting on, but the grateful dear would not accept his offer +of help in clearing up. She sent me away with him down the road to +gather a bunch of bluebells, azure as a handful of sky, to put into our +hanging vase—my first Scotch bluebells. And as soon as we were well +away, he began asking questions about Doctor James, which showed that he +really cared. What was his first name? How old was he when he +disappeared? And how long ago was that?</p> + +<p>"His Christian name was Richard," said I. "It was seventeen years ago +that he disappeared—or died. And he must have been twenty-nine then, +because Heppie says he was too young for Mrs. James—only a year older +than she—which would make him forty-six now."</p> + +<p>"You mustn't give her away like that," Sir Somerled reproached me. "I +should have guessed her seven or eight years younger."</p> + +<p>"Ah, that's the massage and the skin food and neck exercises," said I, +wisely. "She <i>will</i> be pleased when I tell her what a success you think +they are."</p> + +<p>"She'll be much more pleased if you don't tell her you've mentioned +them, and I strongly advise you not to. Do you happen to know whether +Doctor James had a scar on the left temple?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," I eagerly answered. "She's told me about it. That's why he turned +the right side of his face to be photographed. But why? Did you ever +come to Carlisle and see him before you sailed for America as a boy?"</p> + +<p>"I came to Carlisle. I may have seen him," Sir S. replied. "But say +nothing to Mrs. James about this conversation of ours. Some time, +perhaps, I may tell you why. If not, it's not worth remembering. And +now, I see she's got everything ready, and is waiting for us. So is +Vedder. The car's had a good drink of petrol, and we can be off—for a +sight of Carlyle's country. Will that bore you?" He looked at me almost +anxiously, as if something depended on my answer.</p> + +<p>"Bore me? Oh, no: I shall love to go there," I assured him.</p> + +<p>"Why? What do you know of Carlyle?"</p> + +<p>"Not much," I had to confess, "But there were three books of his my +father had, which I've read. And there's a picture of him still in the +library."</p> + +<p>"Which books? What picture?"</p> + +<p>"'The French Revolution,' and 'Hero Worship,' and 'Sartor Resartus,' It +was that last one I read first. I took it off the shelf because it had +such a queer name. I wanted to find out what it meant. Don't you always +desperately want to find out what everything means? I do. But I suppose +you know everything by now. Well, I began to read without being so very +much interested. Then, suddenly, my mind seemed to wake up. It was a +wonderful feeling, just as if I stood near to a man who was playing +marvellous and startling music on the grandest organ ever made. And the +man who played could sing too. He sang in a voice sometimes harsh and +sometimes sweet. It seemed to me as I read the book that it was humorous +and sad, tender and stern at the same time. And till the very end I was +carried along on the wave of that organ music, which had in it always a +thrill of the divine. I never found any other book in the library that +made me feel exactly like that, except Shakespeare—and Grandma had all +the Shakespeare volumes carted off to the garret after she came in one +day when I was eleven, and found me reading 'Macbeth.' As for the +picture of Carlyle, it shows him, sitting in a chair, with a look on his +face of a sad man alone in a gray world."</p> + +<p>"Whistler's portrait! You shall have all Carlyle's works and +Shakespeare's for your own. I'll give them to you," said Sir Somerled, +looking at me with an interested look, as if suddenly he liked me better +than he had before.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you <i>are</i> good, and I should love to have them," I said. "But now +there'll be my mother I shall have to ask permission of for everything. +I must do just what she wants me to do, for I shall die if she doesn't +love me."</p> + +<p>"Yes. I'd forgotten," said he.</p> + +<p>"I hadn't, for a minute," I answered. "But I suppose, as mother is a +great actress, she loves Shakespeare and has all his works; and perhaps +she has Carlyle, too, in her library."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," he echoed.</p> + +<p>"Don't you like her?" I asked. "You always look odd, and speak in a +short, snappy way when I talk of my mother."</p> + +<p>"I like and admire her immensely," he answered, in that remote tone +which tries to frighten me, and does almost—but not quite. "All the +same, I don't think you'll find Carlyle in her library, so you'll have +to let me give him to you. But meanwhile, you shall learn to understand +him better by seeing the little village where he was born, and the house +his father the stonemason built."</p> + +<p>So we started off in the car, going back to the highway and along a road +which perhaps would not have seemed extraordinary if it hadn't been made +surpassingly beautiful by men who lit the path of history with a shining +light. I had a gay, irresponsible feeling, sitting beside Sir S. on the +springy front seat of the luxurious motor-car, as if I were a neat +little parcel clearly addressed to my destination, and going there +safely by registered post. By this time even Mrs. James had ceased to +"bite her heart" when she saw another motor dashing toward us, or a man +sauntering across the road and filling the whole horizon. The car is so +singularly intelligent that you feel it is a friend, too kind-hearted +and chivalrous a creature to let anything bad happen. Of course, about +every ten minutes something <i>almost</i> happens, but that is invariably the +fault of other people's cars. You dash up to the mouth of a cross-road +which you couldn't possibly have seen, because it is subtly disguised as +a clump of trees or a flowery knoll; and you discover its true identity +only because another motor—a blundering brute of a motor—bursts out at +fifty miles an hour in front of your nose. If you'd reached that point +an instant later, your own virtuous automobile and the wretch that isn't +yours would certainly have telescoped, and you'd have been sitting in +the nearest tree with your head in your lap. But already I begin to +notice that you may pretty well count on reaching the danger point +(produced by alien autos) at precisely the right instant, never the +wrong one, and this gives you a beautiful confidence in your luck and +your driver: although the real secret must lie in the acuteness of your +guardian angel or patron saint. Vedder, who when young was a champion +boxer, is very superstitious, and Mr. Somerled allows him a large gold +medal of St. Christopher on the dashboard. St. Christopher, it seems, +has undertaken the spiritual care of motor-cars, and as by this time he +has millions under his guidance, his plans for keeping them out of each +other's way must be as complicated as the traffic arrangements of a +railway superintendent. When I contrasted the angelic behaviour of our +car with the appalling perversity of other people's, Sir S. burst out +laughing, and said that evidently I was born with the motor instinct: +that he'd seen women who took days or weeks learning these great truths, +whereas I came by them naturally. "It's remarkable what a lot of +valuable knowledge can be picked up by an enterprising princess in a +glass retort, when the dragon isn't looking!" said he.</p> + +<p>"Princesses in glass retorts are perhaps forced to learn lessons tabooed +by dragons," I replied to this; "so if I know things or have thought +things that every other girl doesn't think or know, it's because they +were forbidden fruit. They were my only fun."</p> + +<p>"They've made you a splendid little 'pal,' if you know what that means," +said he. "I'm not sure the glass-retort system hasn't some advantages +for the bringing up of women. The proverb is that truth lies at the +bottom of a well. I begin to think it may be looked for in glass retorts +in the land of dragons."</p> + +<p>"You mean that I'm truthful?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes. I'm inclined to believe, up to date, that you've remained as +transparent as the glass of your late prison."</p> + +<p>"What makes you think so?" I wanted to know.</p> + +<p>"Observation—partly. And the way you talk to me."</p> + +<p>"What way?"</p> + +<p>"Well—that's a knotty question. I can hardly explain, but——"</p> + +<p>"I wonder," I began to think out aloud, "whether you mean that I say +what comes into my mind without being afraid you mayn't like it?"</p> + +<p>"Er—um—perhaps that covers a good deal of the ground. But what put the +idea into your head? Why should you be afraid of me?"</p> + +<p>"I'm not. Only—I've thought that it would be more respectful if I were. +You are so celebrated, you see. That's the first thing I heard about +you—I mean, about your being such a famous artist. I heard you were +rich too, but of course that didn't interest me so much."</p> + +<p>"No? That proves the benefit of the glass-retort system."</p> + +<p>"Why—how, please?"</p> + +<p>"Because princesses who haven't been bottled up in them, but have lived +in the lap of luxury—and in the laps of luxurious mothers—understand +the value of money, and consider men famed for their millions worth a +dozen who've wrapped themselves up in a few rags of some lesser kind of +fame."</p> + +<p>"You call being a great artist a lesser kind of fame?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't once. But since I've got into the money-making habit, I've +accepted the world's opinion."</p> + +<p>"Pooh!" said I rudely. "I don't believe you have, because the first +minute I saw you, I felt sure you were a <i>real</i> man. That's why I just +had to speak to you in the station, instead of one of the others. I +knew—by instinct, I suppose, as you say I know about motors. Think of +the glory of being able to <i>create</i> beautiful things!"</p> + +<p>"Think of being able to buy them! Jewels and castles and yachts, and all +sorts of things that women love. Motor-cars for instance."</p> + +<p>"You could buy motor-cars with money you earned by painting pictures, +couldn't you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; but not castles or yachts: and not enough jewels to please +princesses who haven't spent eighteen years in a glass retort."</p> + +<p>"Well," I said, "I may be no judge, but I think jewels and castles would +be a bother, and I should be seasick in yachts. Give me a man who brings +beautiful things out of his soul, not out of his pockets. You're very +nice now; but you must have been much nicer before you buried your +talents under the shields and bracelets you told me about. Even I know +what you mean by them—and what happened to Tarpeia."</p> + +<p>"<i>Even</i> you! I begin to think you were born knowing about a good many +things besides motor-cars. And you are entirely right. I was much nicer +before I began to collect the shields and bracelets."</p> + +<p>"Can't you give a lot of them away, and do what I said—go back to the +time before you bargained for them?"</p> + +<p>"You don't understand how difficult it is to go back."</p> + +<p>"But you are back—in Scotland."</p> + +<p>"You're right. Now's my one chance to return to my youth and ideals. +Bright little Princess, thank you for polishing up the dulled surface of +my soul."</p> + +<p>"It's only the surface that needs polishing," said I. "The inside part +is shining, even when the outside looks dim. But I'm afraid you're +making fun of me?"</p> + +<p>"I was never more in earnest. I'm crossing more than one border with you +to-day."</p> + +<p>"Borders you like crossing?"</p> + +<p>"Great heavens, yes!"</p> + +<p>"I'm glad of that," said I, in a self-satisfied way, "for then you won't +miss Mrs. West so much."</p> + +<p>"Miss Mrs. West? Good Lord, I'd forgotten her!"</p> + +<p>"That's very ungrateful and horrid of you, then," I scolded him, +"because you and she were friends, and she knows how to be perfectly +charming."</p> + +<p>"Yes. She knows how."</p> + +<p>"She knows just what to do and say."</p> + +<p>"Yes. She's an agreeable—and experienced—woman."</p> + +<p>"And if it hadn't been for me, she'd be sitting by you now."</p> + +<p>"I have little doubt of that."</p> + +<p>"And you would have been happy."</p> + +<p>"I should have been contented. There's a big difference between +contentment and happiness. You can't have learned it, yet."</p> + +<p>"Oh, can't I! It's all the difference between—between—well, the +difference between this borderland seen on a dark day and seen on a day +of sunshine. It's the same landscape, but it doesn't look the same to +the eyes or give the same feelings to the heart. The dark-day feelings +would be calm and quietly pleasant; the sunshine feelings would be full +of thrills and heartbeats—as to-day."</p> + +<p>"By Jove, you've hit it!" he exclaimed as if to please me by agreeing. +"Full of thrills and heartbeats—as to-day."</p> + +<p>"Then you <i>do</i> feel the romance of everything in this sunshine?" I +asked, quick to drag a "yes" from him while he was in the mood.</p> + +<p>"I should say I did. And I'm not ashamed, with you to back me up. But +I've a sneaking idea I should have been ashamed of it with Mrs. West. +And I shouldn't have felt the thrills, only a calm, peaceful pleasure, +as in the gray days—contentment. I shouldn't have known what I was +missing, perhaps. I should have respected myself for outgrowing my +enthusiasms. But—in my best moments, Princess, I've pitied people more +for not knowing what they miss in life than for missing the things."</p> + +<p>"Yes," I answered, "because it's better to know there are beautiful +things, and to want them in vain, than grub along without knowing of +their existence. But all that's got nothing to do with Mrs. West."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps not. Yet it has something to do with me. No need to bother +about the connection."</p> + +<p>"I won't bother about anything!" I laughed in my joy of life and of +motoring, which seemed one and indivisible just then. "I'm wrapped up in +the magic golden web that Sir Walter Scott and Burns have woven round +every mile of this land across the border—<i>our</i> land, yours and mine."</p> + +<p>"So am I, caught in the web, lost in it—to my own surprise." He laughed +as he drove, his eyes alert and young. "Burns, by the way, came to +Ecclefechan, where we're arriving now. He had an uproarious time, and +wrote verses to the Lass of Ecclefechan, which shows the place must have +been a good deal livelier then than now. Or else, which is as likely, he +had a faculty of squeezing the juice out of the driest, most unpromising +fruit—the same faculty you have."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps the fruit dried up later," I suggested. "Burns died soon after +Carlyle was born, didn't he? And maybe people began to be primmer when +they were forgetting his influence."</p> + +<p>"No. Those of us Scots who were meant to be dour were always dour," Sir. +S argued, "since the days of John Knox, and long before. It was partly +climate—partly persecution. Both agreed with our constitutions. But +look, here's the little house where one of the greatest geniuses who +ever saw the light in Scotland first opened his eyes. I dare say he +didn't get much light—but he spent most of his life in giving it to +other people, out of his own gloom. Wouldn't Burns have been interested, +passing that house (as he must have, in the 'uproarious time' at +Ecclefechan), if his prophetic soul had said, 'Here, in this little +dwelling as humble as your own birthplace, will be born a man as great +as you—and one of your keenest critics?'"</p> + +<p>I didn't answer, because no answer was needed, and because we were both +gazing hard at a small, whitewashed, double house made into one by an +archway joining the two parts together. Coming from Gretna Green it was +on our left in the midst of a gray and white village which would have +looked commonplace if it had not been framed by an immense sky. It was +as if this vast blue crystal case had been set down over Carlyle's +birthplace to protect and mark it out from other places. There was the +narrow, high-banked brook—"the gentle Kuhbach kindly gushing by" (as +Sir S. quoted)—which had made music in Carlyle's childish ears, to echo +through them all his life. Perhaps he paddled in the brook on hot summer +days, just as little boys were paddling when our Gray Dragon suddenly +broke the respectable silence of Ecclefechan; and I know that he must +have seen stormy sun-rises and fiery sunsets reflected in it as in a +mirror, just as the Lady of Shalott saw all the things that really +mattered passing in her looking-glass.</p> + +<p>It is the kind of village, and the gray or whitewashed houses with their +red door-sills are the kind of houses, where you would say, rushing +through in a motor, "Nothing can possibly happen." Yet Carlyle happened; +and he was an event for the whole world, which now makes pilgrimages to +his birthplace. And I think that when his memory travelled back to +Ecclefechan, he would not have changed it for a garden of palaces and +flowers and fountains. Even the wee bairns playing in the road where +Carlyle played, knew why we stopped our car. They pointed out the +Carlyle house, gazing at us in solemn pity because we were poor +tourist-bodies, who couldna bide the rest of our lives in the best +village in a' the wurlld.</p> + +<p>For my part, I pitied them, because their feet were bare, whereas the +poorest children in my native Carlisle have wonderfully nice shoes, +bound in brass. But all the Scot—and perhaps the crofter—rose in Sir +S. when I mourned over the little dusty feet. "Do you think they go +barefoot because they've no shoes?" he asked. "You're wrong. You don't +know your own country-folk yet. They've as good shoes as those Carlisle +kids, and better, maybe. It's because they don't like the feel of the +shoes when they play, and they're saving them for Sundays. I did the +same myself. Not a pair of shoes did I have on my feet, except on the +Sabbath day, till I was turned eleven."</p> + +<p>It seemed to me that suddenly he had quite a Scotch burr in his voice, +and I did like him for it!</p> + +<p>An apple-cheeked old body opened the door. On it was a brass plate which +would have told us, if we hadn't known already, that in this house +Thomas Carlyle was born. Remembering what he grew to be and to mean in +the big world, the three tiny rooms and the few simple relics were a +thousand times more pathetic than if we'd been led through apartment +after apartment of a palace, seeing christening cups and things under +glass cases. They did not seem sad to me, only a little dour in a +wholesome way, as porridge is dour compared to plum-cake. But the +cemetery which we went to after we had seen the house made me want to +cry. I didn't like to think that, coming back here to sleep after all +those many years, Carlyle had not his wife to rest beside him. Lying +with his ain folk behind grim iron railings couldn't have consoled him +for her absence. This is the only graveyard I ever saw except the one +where my father is buried; and somehow, it doesn't seem respectful to +the dead to go and criticise their graves, unless you are their friends, +bringing them flowers—pansies for thoughts and rosemary for +remembrance. It's like walking into people's houses and opening their +doors to look at them in bed when they're asleep, and can't resent your +intrusion, though they would hate it if they knew. I said this to Sir +S., and he partly agreed with me on principle; but he warned me that +there are cemeteries I must visit in Scotland unless I want to miss the +last volumes of several interesting human documents. I don't know +exactly what a human document is; still, I suppose I shall go to the +graveyards for the sake of finding out what he means.</p> + +<p>He spoke as if I were likely to go to these places with him, and said +that he would enjoy showing me Carlyle's house in Chelsea, which is +"more full of the man's heart and soul than Ecclefechan is." But, of +course, he said this without stopping to think. He will go back to +America and forget the forlorn little princess he happened to rescue +from a neighbouring dragon. Yet never mind, I shan't be forlorn after +this! I shall have my mother, and mothers are more important to +princesses than the most glittering knights. I shall, of course, travel +about with her wherever she goes, so I can never be lonely or sad. I +ought to be even more impatient than I am for the day to come when she +is due in Edinburgh, and I can surprise her there: but I suppose, having +lived without her so long, it is difficult to realize that I'm actually +to see her at last. However, I think of her every minute—or perhaps +every other minute; and I haven't fully realized until to-day how much +there is for which I have to thank her: the gayety and hopefulness she +must have kept in her heart, and handed down to me. Without gayety and +hopefulness neither of us would have dared or cared to run away from +Hillard House.</p> + +<p>I think, far-fetched as it seems, it was seeing Carlyle's birthplace, +and feeling the influence of his parents upon him, which made me +understand. Great genius as he was, I wonder if he might not have been +even greater if his mother or father had taught him that it was right to +be happy and wrong to be sad? Sir S. says that Jenny his wife could have +taught him all that, if he had chosen to learn; but he was grown up +then, and so it was too late. The sunshine must be in your blood when +you are a child, and then no shadows can ever quite darken the gold—or +at least, that is the thought which has come into my mind to-day.</p> + +<p>It was the right thing to turn southward off the Glasgow highway after +Ecclefechan, to go to Annan and see the place where Carlyle got his +schooling. The Gray Dragon, travelling slowly (for it, or "her," as Sir +S. and Vedder always say), came to the end of the journey in a few +minutes; but when Carlyle walked along that pleasant shadowy road, +carrying his school books, he must have had plenty of time for +day-dreams. Now and then he could have seen the Solway gleaming, and I +can imagine how the beautiful, winding river must have given that grave, +wise boy thoughts of the great river of life, running to and from +eternity. We passed close to Hoddam Hill, where—Sir S. and Mrs. James +told me—the Carlyle family lived for a while when Thomas was grown up, +he translating German romances, and his brother working on the farm.</p> + +<p>At Annan, looking at the statue of Carlyle's friend, Edward Irving, in +the broad High Street, we came back to the subject of Doctor James, and +I heard for the first time the real truth at the bottom of the bad +gossip.</p> + +<p>We had got down from the car to look at the statue, and read what it +said on the pedestal. We were not thinking at first about the doctor, +but only of Edward Irving, and Sir S. was saying to Mrs. James how Annan +was only one of many towns where statues are put up to the memory of men +once misunderstood and cruelly persecuted in the very place where they +are afterward honoured. It seems that Edward Irving (who loved Mrs. +Carlyle when she was Jenny Welsh) had to come back to his native town to +be tried for heresy by the presbytery, after a brilliant career in +London as a fashionable preacher and founder of a new faith. All the +theologians of Scotland and crowds of other people (Sir S. says all true +Scots are theologians at heart) came pouring into Annan by coach and +chaise on the great day of the trial; and in spite of Irving's +passionate appeal, he was found guilty by a unanimous vote.</p> + +<p>Talking of the trial, and of the preacher's death the next year, took +Mrs. James's mind to the subject which is never farther away than at the +back of her head. She found a likeness between Edward Irving's fate and +her husband's. "Richard was born in Carlisle and loved the place, but +they believed evil of him and persecuted him," she said. "Some day he +will come back and make Carlisle proud of her son. That's what I expect. +That's what I live for." And she gazed up at the statue of Irving the +preacher with quite the look of a prophetess in her eyes.</p> + +<p>I was afraid that Sir S. would think her mad; but he seemed interested, +as before, and asked if she had in her mind any particular kind of +success her husband might be working to obtain. Was there something, +apart from his profession, and the unfinished volume of history, which +had occupied the thoughts of Doctor James in old days?</p> + +<p>The little woman answered this question almost reluctantly, and I soon +guessed why. There was a serum which the doctor had been trying to +perfect. It was to be used instead of chloroform or ether, for people +with weak hearts, or when for other reasons anaesthetics were dangerous. +A patient in peril of death had begged Doctor James to try it upon him. +The doctor had consented. The patient had died, and though it was not +really because of the serum, but because the man couldn't possibly have +lived in any case, the doctor's enemies had blamed him. "That was what +broke his heart," Mrs. James explained, still staring at the statue with +wide-open eyes, to keep the tears from falling. "That is why he died to +the world which misjudged him."</p> + +<p>"And do you think, if he can perfect this serum, he will come back?" +asked Sir Somerled.</p> + +<p>"<i>When</i>, not 'if.' But I always knew it would take a long time, because +unless some rich person or people had faith and helped him, he would +have to get together a good deal of money for a laboratory before he +could make a great success or a great name. And he went away almost +without a penny."</p> + +<p>"I see," said Sir S., thoughtfully. "Well, such faith as yours is enough +to inspire a man with courage to push the stone of Sisyphus to the top +of the hill. And it deserves a high reward. I hope the reward may come, +and that I may see the day. Now, we must go on, for this afternoon won't +last as long as I could wish."</p> + +<p>He helped Mrs. James to her place with extra kindness, almost +tenderness, tucking behind her back the gray silk-covered air-cushion +which she says makes her feel she is leaning against a nice pudding.</p> + +<p>Neither of us had asked Sir S. what we were to see next, for we trusted +him to choose; but when we were ready to leave Annan and go back to the +high road, he said that the thought of Galloway was haunting him. "We +can spin on to Glasgow by way of Moffat and see a lot of interesting +places; or we can turn west from Carlyle country, for a run through +Crockett country," he explained. "Which, shall it be?"</p> + +<p>I was ashamed to confess that I didn't know why he called Galloway +"Crockett country"; but Mrs. James saw my sheepish look, and excused me. +"The child has had no novels to read later than Scott."</p> + +<p>"Crockett has done for Galloway what Scott did for Tweedside," said Sir +S. "It's his country. He has made it live. When I give this girl the +promised present of Carlyle and Shakespeare, I must add Crockett. That +is, as she reminded me"—and he smiled—"if Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald +allows Ian of that ilk to lay gifts at her daughter's feet."</p> + +<p>"Oh, she'll permit Barrie to accept books," said Mrs. James, with her +pretty primness. "How the child will love the 'Raiders,' and the 'Men of +the Moss Hags.' Yes, certainly she ought to see 'gray Galloway.'"</p> + +<p>"Galloway be it, then," said Sir S., looking pleased. "But it won't be +gray at this time of year. It will be purple and gold and emerald, and +silvered with rivers running between flowery banks. And it will smell +sweet as a Scotsman's paradise, with bog myrtle and peat."</p> + +<p>"I too have often wanted to see Galloway," said Mrs. James, "even before +I read the Crockett books; for the doctor devoted a particularly +interesting chapter to its history. I remember well, the ancient name +was most romantic: Gallgaidhel, for the country of the stranger Gaels. +That was the heading he gave his chapter, and I fear I did not know what +'stranger Gaels' meant until I read it. The Celtic Gaels who lived there +used to be called Atecott Picts; and though they were very independent +and wild, and the Romans didn't govern them long, they accepted the +Northumbrians as their overlords—oh, it must have been in the seventh +century, I think. And two hundred years later they made common cause +with the Vikings: so the other Gaels, who would have nothing to do with +the foreigners, scornfully named the men of Galloway 'stranger Gaels.'"</p> + +<p>"It was just jealousy, then!" said I. "Because the people of Galloway +were so broad-minded and hospitable, and ahead of their times. It's the +right country for strangers to visit first——"</p> + +<p>"But we're not strangers," Sir S. cut me short. "You and I, Barrie, are +coming into our own. To-night for the first time you'll sleep in your +ain countree, under the 'heather moon.'"</p> + +<p>"It ought to be a wonderful place, for our first night of the heather +moon," I said, half shutting my eyes—"a mysterious, beautiful, <i>lucky</i> +place, to remember always. What shall it be? Have you decided on what is +appropriate?"</p> + +<p>"I'd thought of Dumfries," he said. "But it doesn't answer that +description, and though it's in Galloway, it concerns Burns and is out +of Crockett land. Still——"</p> + +<p>"Sweetheart Abbey!" Mrs. James exclaimed rapturously. "It should be at +Sweetheart Abbey that Barrie dreams her first Scottish dreams."</p> + +<p>The knight laughed rather bitterly for some reason. "Are Scottish dreams +different from other dreams?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," said Mrs. James, "they are the dreams that come true."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="VIa" id="VIa"></a>VI</h2> + + +<p>It is days later, it seems a long time ago that I wrote of our plan to +spend the first night in Scotland at Sweetheart Abbey—a long time since +the night itself; for I have lived more in these few days than in all my +life before.</p> + +<p>Soon we are to reach Edinburgh. Monday is the day when my mother will +begin acting there in her new play. I shall see her. It is to be the +Great Day of all, the day to which all the others have been leading up, +and I ought to be perfectly happy. So I am! Still, there's one little +heavy spot in my heart. All the yeast of happiness won't make it light. +The beginning of the new means the end of the old. The trip will be +over—for me; though the Knight and the Gray Dragon will go on and have +hundreds of adventures without me. They will be my knight and my dragon +no longer. Perhaps I shall never see them again.</p> + +<p>Before our days together slip away into the background of my mind (it +seems as if they never could!) I want to write down things about them to +keep and read when I am <i>old</i>.</p> + +<p>First of all, there was Ruthwell Cross.</p> + +<p>We went there from Annan; and as we flew along in the car over a good +white road, we could see across widening waters the mountains of the +English Lake country floating like a mirage along the southern sky, +Skiddaw with its twin peaks higher and bluer than the rest. How I love +the names of the Cumberland places and mountains! I made Sir S. say +Helvellyn and Blencathra and Glaramara over very slowly, just for the +music in my ears. And when his voice says a thing it sounds particularly +well. I like to hear it roll out such a word as Northumberland, for +instance. The way he says it makes you think of thunder on great +moorlands, or a rush of wild Scotsmen over the border. But the Celtic +names he speaks most lovingly, most softly, so that they ring on your +ear for a long time after they are spoken, like an echo of fairy bells.</p> + +<p>I did not mean to write all this about him and his voice when I began. +There is so much else to say. Yet, somehow, I keep running back to him +in my thoughts, especially now the trip is nearly over. And while I +still cling to the subject, I have found out that he can sing as well as +paint. But the singing belongs to Sweetheart Abbey; and Ruthwell Cross +came before.</p> + +<p>Mrs. James and Sir S. excited my interest in Galloway by telling me bits +from the "Raiders," then stopping in exciting places to talk of +something else. And somehow Galloway does seem a country where almost +anything might happen—big, sensational, historic things. There was +nothing gray to see except glimpses of the Solway, where the sea poured +in its resistless tide; and that was the gray of polished silver. I had +an impression of high hills, blunt in shape yet strangely dignified, and +wide-spreading moors which sent out exquisite smells like lovely unseen +messengers to meet us, as the car seemed to break through crystal walls +of wind. Here and there were piles of pansy-brown peat, ready for +burning. Children with heads wrapped in scarlet flame ran out of +cottages to stare at us. Sir S. actually admired their red hair. He +exclaimed suddenly, "By Jove, it's worth crossing the ocean to see that +glorious stuff again! It's the hair of Circe." I don't know when +anything has made me feel so much like a kitten that purrs over a dish +of cream. For you know the hair he loved was <i>just</i> my colour, not a bit +less scarlet. What would Grandma say?</p> + +<p>It rained once—sharp rain like thin daggers of glass stabbing our faces +as the car dashed through—and the wet road looked like a shining silver +ribbon flung down anyhow on purple velvet. The purple velvet was +heather, and I never saw any before we started on our trip, except a +little sad, tame heather in the garden of Hillard House—heather +moulting like a bird in a cage, with all the spirit of the moors gone +out of it. But this Galloway heather was real heather, the heather of +poetry; and I knew that by and by I was going to see the heather moon +rise over it. The very thought brought a thrill—and I was glad, as I +had it, that Mrs. West was somewhere else in her own car. She does so +damp you, somehow, in your high moments, and make you feel too young for +anybody to care for your crude little thrills or take them seriously.</p> + +<p>When the rain stopped, it left a thin white mist floating over the +heather, until the sun broke out and the deep purple was lit to crimson, +like a running fire.</p> + +<p>I'm not quite sure if all this happened before Ruthwell Church (called +Rivvel by the people near), but in my memory it is part of the same +picture, of that first day in Galloway.</p> + +<p>I know we skimmed through a little place called Cummer-trees, and then +Sir S. slowed down to show us, he said, one of the "sights of the +world." He had never seen it himself, but he knew all about it, and even +Mrs. James knew a little. It is a great advantage to a simple woman to +have had a clever husband, and feel obliged, to live up to him.</p> + +<p>We had come not so much for the church as for a wonderful stone cross +which it contains, as a jewel-box contains treasure of pearls and +diamonds. This cross is worth countless numbers of both; and it has a +history as intricate as its own strange carvings.</p> + +<p>In the manse they gave Sir S. the key of the small old church behind a +high wall with steps up and down: and once inside he led us straight to +the north end, where, in a side aisle, we saw a great shape rise. We +must have known it to be a marvel, even if we had heard nothing +beforehand.</p> + +<p>The cross used to stand, not in the church, but out in the open long +before the church was built, and it towered eighteen feet tall against +the sky. There it lived year after year, generation after generation, +and nobody knew what its carved birds and beasts and hieroglyphic +inscriptions meant. Nobody cared much, until a gloomy set of men in a +General Assembly, when Charles I was King of England, threw it down and +broke it up, because it was an idolatrous emblem. Luckily, some wise +person hid all the pieces in the church; but after a while another +person not so wise threw them out into the backyard. There they stayed +until a Doctor Duncan thought he would have the cross put up in his +manse garden: and some great Norwegian scholars, to whom he sent copies +of the writings, grew very excited, and contradicted each other about +them in 1802. But no one knew what the letters really meant till the +eldest son of the famous actor John Kemble came to the neighbourhood for +a holiday. He was a learned authority on Anglo-Saxon times, and he +discovered that the writing was really Early English, the very earliest +of all, the rudiments of the language which—as Sir S. expressed +it—"Chaucer helped to form and Shakespeare perfected"; because they had +to <i>make</i> their words, as well as group them together—which is all that +lazy authors have to do nowadays. The quaint carvings relate to the life +of Christ and saints, and they are described in Latin from the Vulgate; +but it was the runic inscriptions which John Mitchell Kemble puzzled +out—a kind of rhymed soliloquy the cross itself was supposed to speak; +and afterward he found the whole thing in an Anglo-Saxon MS. of the +seventh or eighth century, far away from Scotland, in a library at +Vercelli, near Milan. But it was written by the Northumbrian bard +Caedmon, in a poem called "The Dream of the Holy Rood."</p> + +<p>No wonder Sir S. wished to see Ruthwell Cross. There's nothing else of +the kind, he thinks, so splendid anywhere.</p> + +<p>Even then my first wonderful day in Scotland wasn't over, for we had +time to see Caerlaverock Castle, which, according to Sir S., is another +of the best things on earth. I suppose, in old days, when the world was +small because it was difficult to travel great distances, it didn't seem +odd to find magnificent runic crosses, and castles, and historic +blacksmiths' shops, and houses of geniuses all standing cheek by jowl +within a step of each other. They had to be like that, or nobody from +the next county would ever have seen them: but now, especially to a +person who has seen nothing except in dreams, it is startling, almost +incredible.</p> + +<p>Caerlaverock, Mrs. James said, was probably Scott's Ellangowan in "Guy +Mannering"; so I shall read "Guy Mannering" as soon as I settle down to +live with my mother. We couldn't help getting a little mixed up with +Scott even here, at the gate of the Crockett country; and there were +traces of Burns too, because of our being near already to Dumfries, +where he lived for years and finally died. But the idea Sir S. had set +his heart upon was for us to come back to Dumfries after we had seen +Galloway and had run up to Burns's birthplace at Ayr. It would make each +part of the trip more "concrete," he said.</p> + +<p>Whether or no the stronghold of the Maxwells was Ellangowan, it was in +any case the key to southwest Scotland, and in looking at the place it +is easy to understand why. A great red-gold Key it was when we saw it, +red-gold in the western sunlight in a hollow near the river; such red +and gold colour as the old sandstone had, in contrast with the green of +lichen and green of waving grass, I wouldn't have believed in, if I'd +seen it in a picture. I should have said, "The artist who painted that +ruined castle put on the colours he would like to see, not those he did +see." But I should have misjudged him, because the colours were real.</p> + +<p>Once there was a double moat all round the vast, triangular castle, and +still there's water in one of them. You would have thought the Maxwell +ladies had thrown their rubies and diamonds into it one wild day when +they were escaping from enemies, and that the jewels had lain ever since +at the bottom of the moat unnoticed, though the sunlight found out and +treacherously tried to tell the secret. Think of Ptolemy writing about +Caerlaverock, and calling it Carbantorigun! I'm glad we haven't to call +it that now, or I should always have to say <i>it</i>—as one goes on saying +"you" to a person whose name one hasn't caught.</p> + +<p>Even if Caerlaverock were in hideous surroundings, it would be +magnificent: but the river Solway is its silver foreground, and Lochar +Moss is its mysterious background; so it is perfect in beauty as in +strength, and if only no such hateful things as cannons had been +invented, it would not now be a ruin. Although it lies so low, it was +built to resist everything but gunpowder: for how could the Maxwells +dream that all their beautiful arrangements for pouring down molten lead +and boiling oil would be useless against a new foe?</p> + +<p>Edward I took the castle in 1300, but Bruce got it back thirteen years +later; and there was much fighting and tossing back of the Key from one +hand to the other even before the great siege when the Earl of Essex +punished Lord Herries for defending Queen Mary. Still, the walls stood +bravely, and after the Essex affair they were made stronger than +ever—so strong and so splendid it must have seemed as if Caerlaverock +need never capitulate again to any enemy. But no sooner had the Maxwells +finished a lovely new façade, the best they'd ever had, with carved +window and door caps of the latest fashion, than Colonel Home came along +with his grim Covenanters and blew up everything with his horrid +cannons. I can't help disliking him, for the Maxwells seem to have been +the most fascinating people. One Lord Maxwell of the seventeenth +century, who was Roman Catholic when it wasn't safe to be Roman +Catholic, used to disguise himself as a beggar, and play the fiddle in +the market-place of Dumfries as a signal to tell the faithful of his own +religion where and when they might come to Mass. They understood +according to certain tunes agreed upon, which was easy, as they had only +three meeting-places. A nice old man in the castle told us these stories +and showed us the exquisite courtyard where Burns came one day when he +was seventeen and cut on a stone in the wall the initials R. B. in a +triangle, like a masonic sign, which suggests the wedge shape of the +castle.</p> + +<p>Sir S. knew all about this carving, and said that Americans had offered +two thousand pounds for the stone. But the Duchess of Norfolk, who is +mistress of Caerlaverock in her own right, turned up her nose, +metaphorically speaking, at the offer. "I bid ye fair:" is the motto +that goes with the crest over the huge gateway between two towers, and +the rumour is that the Americans, in bidding for the stone of the +initials, quoted this motto; but their aptness did them no good. In one +of those towers Murdoch, the blind Duke of Albany, was imprisoned for +seven years by James I before he was executed at Stirling; and they say +that in the green hollow where the great red ruin glows he can be seen +walking in the moonlight on the anniversary of his beheading.</p> + +<p>One of my favourite stories in history is about Lord Nithsdale and his +brave, clever wife who saved him on the eve of his execution by dressing +him in her clothes and letting him walk calmly out of the Tower of +London in her place. Think of being able to do such a thing for a man +you loved! He was one of the Lords Nithsdale who came from Caerlaverock; +and not far away, at Terregles House, is a portrait of that Countess of +Nithsdale, with the cloak which her husband wore when he escaped. They +have a Prayer Book, too, of Queen Mary's in that house, for she gave it +to Lord Herries, who sheltered her in her flight after the battle at +Langside, eighty miles away. But we didn't see these things. It was the +old man at the castle who told us of them, because they are still in the +keeping of the Maxwell family, of which he is very proud.</p> + +<p>We hurried quickly through Dumfries, not to see or think of the Burns +associations there until we should come back; but at Lincluden Abbey, +close by, we were forced to think of him—although, as far as our trip +was concerned, he wasn't born. At Lincluden, where he loved to come, +walking out from Dumfries (as he must have walked to Caerlaverock to cut +his initials) he saw the Vision. And Lincluden is so sweet a place that +my thoughts of it, mingling very humbly with the great poet's thoughts, +will lie together in my memory as pressed flowers lie between the pages +of a book.</p> + +<p>The road which leads from Dumfries to Lincluden seems like a quiet +prelude to a lovely burst of music, so gentle and pretty it is. Then +suddenly you come to the promontory stitched on to the mainland with +great silver stitches of rivers, the Cluden and the Nith; and there are +old earthworks, fallen into ruin, which guard the Abbey as the skeletons +of watch-dogs might lie guarding a dead master. There's a mound, too, by +the side of the ruined church, and it is called a Mote, which means +something desperately interesting and historic, and there's a Peel-tower +in ruin. Indeed, all is in ruin at Lincluden Abbey; but that makes it +the sweeter and sadder. And as we came, the red of the crumbling +sandstone burned in the fire of sunset like a funeral pyre heaped with +roses. The melancholy, crowding trees and the delicate groups of little +bushes were like mourners coming with their children to look on at the +great burning.</p> + +<p>We went into the church to see the tomb of Margaret Countess of Douglas, +who was a daughter of King Robert the Third; and somehow the mutilations +of the effigy made it more beautiful, causing you to see as in a blurred +picture the thousand events of troublous times which had passed over the +figure, leaving it through all peacefully asleep. A daughter of a king, +with the Douglas Heart to guard her, she would be too noble in her stony +slumber to show that she minded losing her features and a few other +trifling accessories which might spoil the looks of less important +women.</p> + +<p>When we came out, high in the sunset glory gleamed a silver sickle, +reaping roses. It was the heather moon, and I cried out to Sir S. as I +saw it, "Wish—wish! Your first sight of the heather moon, and over our +right shoulders for luck! Whatever we wish <i>must</i> come true!"</p> + +<p>I was so excited that I seized his hand; and he was too polite to give +it back to me like a thing he didn't want. So he held it firmly in his +while we both looked up to the sky, silently making our wishes. My wish +was to be that my mother might love me; but I stopped and thought, "What +is the good of making such a wish, when I've only one, and I'm sure to +get that one without the heather moon, as mothers all love their +children." This caution was very "canny" and proved my Scottish blood, I +couldn't help thinking, as I paused in order to select the most +appropriate wish for the heather moon to grant.</p> + +<p>Several ideas presented themselves with a bow: a wish to be happy: but +that wasn't "concrete" enough, as Sir S. would say. A wish to be very +rich and able to do anything in the world I might like to do; but being +rich sounds so fat and uninteresting—or else bald-headed; for nearly +all the photographs in picture papers of desperately rich people are one +or the other, or both. At last I began to be nervous, for if Sir S. or +Mrs. James (who was close by) should speak before I'd given my wish to +the new moon, she'd be unable to grant it, even with the best +intentions. That is a well-known fact in connection with wishing by the +moon. I have it on the authority of both Mrs. Muir and Heppie. Being in +a hurry, I grew confused, and so could think of nothing more important +than to wish for my knight never to forget me in future, wherever he may +be. And just as I'd finished, he said, "Well? What did you wish?"</p> + +<p>Of course I couldn't tell him such a wish as that; but, luckily, you +must never let anybody know what you've wished by a moon or a star, if +you want the wish to come true.</p> + +<p>I explained this to Sir S., and he said, as far as he was concerned, it +didn't matter, for he hadn't wished after all. "Oh, what a waste of the +heather moon!" I cried, for it really seemed too bad. But he answered +that the only thing he particularly wished for just then was a thing +which wasn't fair to wish, on account of the 'other party concerned.' I +laughed, and said if he had <i>wished</i> to wish, he had wished, in spite of +himself, and the heather moon had heard; because that's the business of +any well-trained new moon, and the heather moon is the best-trained of +the year. "'The other party concerned' must just take the risk," I said. +"And very likely 'twill be the best thing for him, her, or it in the +end."</p> + +<p>"I daren't hope that," said he, looking up at the silver sickle as +earnestly as if we weren't talking nonsense.</p> + +<p>"Don't you think the heather moon knows best?" I reproached him. But he +did not answer, and only hummed under his breath, as we walked to the +waiting car:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"How far, how far to Gretna?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It's years and years away—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And coach-and-four shall nevermore<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fling dust across the day."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>All the way along the shadowy, switchback road from Dumfries going to +Sweetheart Abbey (I like to write the name, it is so pretty and +old-fashioned) we had glimpses of the moon scattering silver through the +tree branches as she fell down the west. I thought the soft white curve +like a baby's arm, rounded at the elbow; and it waved us good-night over +the heather-clad mound of Criffel, as a baby might wave over the fat +shoulder of a big nurse dressed in purple. It is <i>cheek</i> of Criffel to +call itself a mountain, and of course it wouldn't dare to if there were +other real mountains within twenty-five miles.</p> + +<p>When I made this remark Mrs. James asked me where, in my sequestered +life, I had got hold of such an unladylike word as "cheek," but I told +her I must have been born knowing it, as there was never a time in my +memory when I didn't. Also Mr. Douglas had used it several times in +Carlisle Castle.</p> + +<p>"Haven't you forgotten him yet?" asked Sir S.</p> + +<p>"It would be silly to forget, and have to make his acquaintance over +again at Edinburgh," I said. "He asked me particularly to think of him +during our trip whenever I should see the Douglas Heart. Now I have just +seen it at Lincluden."</p> + +<p>"Douglas Heart indeed! Douglas cheek!" I heard Sir S. mutter.</p> + +<p>There is one part of that road between Dumfries and Sweetheart Abbey I +shall never forget: the view from Whinny Hill—a sudden view springing +from behind trees, as if a green curtain had been pulled back from a +picture. In this picture there were the silver Nith, and purple Criffel +of course (which always tries to get itself noticed wherever you turn), +a great forty-foot monument put up to commemorate Waterloo; and again +the red triangle of Caerlaverock glowing on the green shore of the +Solway Firth.</p> + +<p>I suppose the people who were shy of seeming sentimental insisted on +calling Sweetheart Abbey New Abbey. I can imagine Sir S. voting for the +change, because I fancy that he would endure torture rather than be +thought sentimental. He describes a place or a thing or a person +glowingly, then hurries to cap his description with a few joking or even +ironical words, lest he should be suspected of romance or enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>The village is called New Abbey too, so it is safe to mention that to +the driest person. It was just beginning to be evening, an evening +softly gray as doves' wings folding down, when our Dragon sidled toward +an inn it saw, quite a nice little inn, where Sir S. announced that we +would stop the night. Before going in, however, he took us to look at a +queer bas-relief built into the wall of a whitewashed cottage on the +left side of the road. It showed three ladies industriously rowing a +boat across the ferry—pious dames who brought all the stones from +Caerlaverock, on the other side of the Solway, to build the Abbey.</p> + +<p>"Rock of the Lark" is a delightful name, but Sweetheart Abbey is +prettier, and the reason of the name is the prettiest part. Only I wish +that the devoted Devorgilla who built the Abbey of Dolce Cor to be a big +sacred box for the heart of her husband had had a worthier object of +worship than the king, John Balliol. All the history I have ever read +makes him out to be a weak and cowardly and rather treacherous person; +but, as Sir S. said, "Mirabeau judged by the people and Mirabeau judged +by his friends were two men"; and I suppose John must have put himself +out to be charming to Devorgilla, or she wouldn't have wandered about +with his heart in an ebony box inlaid with silver, and insisted on +having it on the table in front of her when she ate her dinner. That was +one way of keeping her husband's heart during her whole lifetime—and +even after death, for of course she had it buried with her. It must have +been glad of a little rest by that time, the poor heart, for it had so +much travelling to do. I suppose it even went as far as Oxford when +Devorgilla founded Balliol College.</p> + +<p>The last shaft of the sun was turned off the rose-coloured ruin and the +secluded valley where the cross-shaped Abbey hides from the world; and +the moon was gone, too, swept away like a tiny boat on a wave of sunset. +Still, it was full daylight, and Sir S. announced that he had a plan. +This plan was for us to go (as soon as we'd seen our rooms, which he had +engaged by telegram) and get permission to enter the Abbey by twilight, +when no one else was there.</p> + +<p>The little gray inn of the town looked no bigger than a good-sized +private house, but it was the very first hotel of my life, and I +regarded it as an Epoch, with a capital E. That point of view was upheld +later by the heavenly scones and honey they gave us—heather honey, gold +as the heather moon. And we had cool, clean rooms, suitable for the +dreaming of sweet dreams. <i>My</i> dreams there seemed very important.</p> + +<p>The great Somerled can of course get anything he wants to ask for if he +chooses to reveal himself—anyhow, in Scotland; because already I am +beginning to learn that even the smallest or humblest Scottish peasant +knows all that's worth knowing, not only of the past but of the present, +and has heard of all the celebrities. Maybe there might be miniature +places in England, America, Germany, or France where the poor and +uneducated would know nothing of Somerled the painter and millionaire. +But in Scotland, apparently, though there are many poor, there are no +uneducated persons. Those to whom his being a painter would mean nothing +would be interested in his money. Those who didn't care for his millions +of dollars would have read about his painting: and all would value him +because he belongs to Scotland.</p> + +<p>As soon as our luggage was in our rooms and dinner ordered, Sir Somerled +inquired if we were ready for the Abbey; but Mrs. James mildly asked if +we would mind going without her. She had begun to realize that she was +tired, and would like to rest. She could go by herself to the Abbey +early in the morning before starting time. I felt that I ought to mind +more than I did, but I couldn't help liking to be with Sir S. alone. It +seemed like the night of our first meeting; for some one had always been +with us, more or less, ever since. It was only a short stroll through +the village, not enough to call a walk. A dear little lady who lives in +a nice cottage close to the ruin opened the iron gate, but she did not +go in with us, because it was time for her supper. She had a photograph +done from one of the great Somerled's most famous pictures, and if he +had been a long she could not have been more polite.</p> + +<p>At first, the inside of the shell-like Abbey with the beautiful name was +a disappointment. The green grass was encumbered with tasteless graves +and flat modern stones which looked as if they had lain down there +without permission.</p> + +<p>We wandered about rather forlornly for a while, until we found +Devorgilla's thirteenth-century tomb. Sir S. told me her history, and +waked the sad old place to living interest. I seemed to see the +ever-loving lady, followed by her chosen maidens carrying the heart in +its ebony and silver box. And together we made up a theory, that of +every event <i>something</i> reminiscent lingers on the spot where it +happened. If only our eyes were different, we should be able, wherever +we went, to see filmy, mysterious pictures painted on air—fadeless, +moving photographs of all the people and all the deeds which have made +up the world's history.</p> + +<p>This set us talking of our own pictures, which we are leaving behind us +as we go through life; and I couldn't help thinking how he and I, in +accordance with this idea, will for ever and ever go on being "married" +at Gretna Green. I laughed at the thought, and he asked me why, so I +told him.</p> + +<p>"When you're marrying your real wife, years from now maybe, and have +forgotten my existence, that scene will still be enacting itself," I +said, "not only on the films the photograph men took, but on air films. +Doesn't it frighten you?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Doesn't it frighten you?" he echoed. "Because you will marry. I never +shall."</p> + +<p>"How do you know?" I catechized him.</p> + +<p>"If I can't have the wife I want, I'll have none."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you can have the one you want if you ask her nicely."</p> + +<p>"I don't intend to ask. I'm not the right one for her."</p> + +<p>"You might let her decide that!" I nobly said, for Mrs. West may be the +woman. "I do hope, if men ever love me, they'll tell me so."</p> + +<p>"No fear! They will." He laughed more loudly than I have heard him +laugh.</p> + +<p>"But the right one mayn't, if he thinks as you do."</p> + +<p>"He won't. He'll be thinking only of himself. But look here, my girl, be +sure you <i>do</i> take the right one when you marry; for if in my opinion +you're likely to make a big mistake when the time comes, I may be +tempted to put a spoke in the fellow's wheel."</p> + +<p>"Please do!" I laughed.</p> + +<p>"You think I'm joking," he said, watching me in a way he has, between +narrowed lids, his eyes almost black in the twilight. "And so I am to a +certain extent. Yet I might forbid the banns, perhaps—if I chose."</p> + +<p>"But how?"</p> + +<p>"Haven't you any idea?"</p> + +<p>"Not half a one."</p> + +<p>"Then I won't tell. It would only worry you—for nothing. Marry in +peace, when your Prince comes, and I'll send you my blessing—from far +away."</p> + +<p>"I don't like to think of your being far away," I said. "Let's not talk +of it. For you are my only friend—except Mrs. James. And you're so +different."</p> + +<p>"I thank Heaven!" he said. "And I thank her for wanting a rest. Good as +she is, three would be a crowd in Sweetheart Abbey."</p> + +<p>Speaking of her made me think of the time. We had promised Mrs. James to +go back in half an hour for dinner! Already more than half an hour had +slipped away as we made our air-film photographs to haunt Sweetheart +Abbey with all its other ghosts.</p> + +<p>The twilight was changing to a light more mysterious, and as we looked +at each other through the opal haze I felt strangely that we were +changing too. It was as if our realities were less real than the shadow +pictures which were to live on here together forever—as if our bodies, +which would go away and separate, to live different lives far away from +one another, would not be <i>us</i> any more.</p> + +<p>I could not have imagined so wonderful a light as that which illuminated +the great rose-window and filled the vast broken shell of the Abbey. It +was as if the day had been poured out of a cup, and night was being +slowly poured in—the dove-gray night of dreams. It was pale, yet not +bright like the light of dawn. It was more like a light glimmering over +a sheet of water, a light made of the water itself. Almost I expected to +see the Heart rise up in the ebony and silver box, and the box opening.</p> + +<p>"You look like a young seeress," my Knight said. "What is it that you +see with your great eyes gazing through the dusk?"</p> + +<p>"I see—a heart," I answered. "I think I see a heart."</p> + +<p>"That is very intelligent of you," he said, in a changed tone. "Come, +child, it's time I took you home."</p> + +<p>"Is there the ghost of a heart floating here?" I asked, wishing to +linger. But he took my hand and drew me toward the gate.</p> + +<p>"To me," he said dryly, "it appears to be a real heart—almost too real +for comfort."</p> + +<p>We walked back to the inn, and he was uninterestingly commonplace all +the way. He talked about dinner, and buying petrol for the car, and told +me dull facts about tiresome things called carburettors. It would have +been a horrid anticlimax, spoiling all the romance of Sweetheart Abbey, +if he had not changed later on. But he did change. There was a little +piano in the sitting-room they gave us, and Mrs. James began drumming +out a few Scotch airs, warbling the words in a high, thin voice rather +like that of an intelligent insect. There was one tune I knew, and I +couldn't resist joining in. At the end Sir S. applauded.</p> + +<p>"What a pity her grandmamma wouldn't let her take lessons, as I once +ventured to suggest!" said Mrs. James. "She has a true ear, and a sweet +voice wonderfully like her mother's, which I quite well remember. But +Mrs. MacDonald had the idea that music lessons would lead to vanity. +Don't you think, sir" (she often slips in a respectful "sir"), "that her +voice would repay instruction?"</p> + +<p>"I do," pronounced the great Somerled.</p> + +<p>"I'm sure <i>you</i> sing," went on Mrs. James. "I flatter myself I can +always tell by people's faces."</p> + +<p>"Like Barrie, I never had lessons," he said. "But I suppose we +Highlanders are born with music in our blood."</p> + +<p>"Then you do sing?" she persisted.</p> + +<p>"Only to please myself. Not that it does!"</p> + +<p>"Will you sing to please us?"</p> + +<p>"It wouldn't please you."</p> + +<p>"Barrie, <i>you</i> ask."</p> + +<p>"The Princess commands!" I said, not expecting him to humour my +impudence, but he did, by going at once to the piano. It had lisped and +stammered awkwardly for Mrs. James, but it obeyed him as if the keys +were mesmerized. He played a prelude, and then sang "Annie Laurie," in a +soft, mellow voice, so low that people outside the room could hardly +have heard. It seemed as if there must really be an "Annie Laurie" in +his life. Surely a man could not sing like that, and look like that in +singing, unless he called up the face of some woman he loved. I wondered +if he thought of Mrs. West, who is so very pretty, and rather like the +description of "Annie Laurie." His eyes looked far away as he sang, +through the wall—oh, yes, I'm sure they could see through the wall at +that moment—perhaps as far as "Maxwellton Braes"; perhaps still +farther, searching for Mrs. West wherever she might be.</p> + +<p>I don't know how it would make one feel if such a man with such a voice +looked into one's eyes and sang a song of love. I'm afraid it might make +one rather foolish. But it was only at the wall that Sir S. stared until +he began a very different song—the lament of a Highlander who would +nevermore see his island home nor the love of his youth. It was a +heart-breaking song; and though his voice was pitched so low it was +almost like singing in a whisper, there was a strange, vibrating power +in it, as there is in the strings of a violin touched but lightly by the +bow. Sir S. transferred his attention from the wall to me as he sang +this sad old ballad, and I could not look away, because there was the +same compelling power in his eyes as in his voice. No doubt it was only +of the song he thought, not of me at all, really; yet I could not shake +off the haunting impression of the look, and it made me dream of him all +night. I saw him standing beside me in the strange, pale twilight of +Sweetheart Abbey. And in his hand was a box of ebony, inlaid with +silver, which he held out. But when I took the box it was locked, and he +had no key. "Only the key of the rainbow will open this box," he said. +And then I woke up, feeling somehow as if the dream were of importance, +and I must try to find out why.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="VIIa" id="VIIa"></a>VII</h2> + + +<p>Next morning when I saw Sir S. I felt confused and vaguely ashamed, as +if something had happened. But, of course, nothing had happened, nothing +at all. I kept on reminding myself of that until I was at ease again. +And his manner helped me to realize how silly I was, for almost he +seemed to go out of his way to put on the commonplace air I had +disliked. It was as if he wrapped himself up in a big, rough coat, +smelling of tobacco smoke, and rather old and shabby, with the collar +well turned up.</p> + +<p>We started early, long before eight, and Mrs. James remarked, while we +were dressing—calling out from her room to mine through the open +door—that there was more credit for Sir S. than for us in liking an +early start. Many men as successful and flattered and rich as he, she +said, would have grown luxurious in their tastes, and lazy. They would +loathe getting up at six, and staying in tiny hotels, and fussing about +to help their chauffeurs when anything went wrong with their cars. They +would hate so much having to pack bags and look after themselves that +they would find it impossible to enjoy travelling without a valet; but +here was this man, used to every luxury, and able to command it, putting +himself to trouble of all sorts and even enduring hardships as +cheerfully as a "little bank clerk out for a holiday with his sister and +aunt."</p> + +<p>I agreed with her, and I suppose bank clerks are as interesting a class +as any; but I'm glad Sir S. is not one. And it is more fun being his +princess than his sister. Mrs. James may be his aunt if she likes. I +wouldn't be it for all his millions.</p> + +<p>He asked her again if she would like to try the front seat, but she +politely refused, and then, with his rough-coat, turned-up-collar-air, +he invited me to take it. Something deep down in me, like a little live +creature whispering, told me to make him turn down that collar and throw +off that rough coat. It did seem such a <i>waste</i>, to have him wearing his +commonplace airs while we travelled through the most adorable country we +had seen yet. I wanted him and me and the scenery all to be romantic +together, and so I told him at last. "But if I'm determined to keep on +the safe side of romance?" he said.</p> + +<p>"If you've decided to be dull and disagreeable," I threatened, "I shan't +give you the 'rainbow key' when I find it. I'll hand it over to somebody +else."</p> + +<p>"Will you?" he said. "Be sure the somebody else deserves it, then."</p> + +<p>This annoyed me. Because I'm looking for the rainbow key for <i>him</i>, not +somebody else. "At present I don't happen to know anybody else I'd care +to give it to," I remarked.</p> + +<p>"Ay," said he, "there's the rub. You know so few. But it will be +different when the princess has a dozen knights all in the competition."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps other knights won't notice that I'm a princess."</p> + +<p>"Judging from what I've observed, I think they'll be quick to notice +that."</p> + +<p>"Well, it remains to be seen."</p> + +<p>"Just so. It remains to be seen." His voice sounded sad or bored, so I +tried to be tactful for once, like Mrs. West, and changed the subject.</p> + +<p>This was the road which Carlyle thought the most beautiful in the +kingdom. Going to Mainsriddle and Dalbeattie we skimmed through dark, +haunted-looking woods, to sudden glimpses of far-down yellow sands and +floating forms of mountains. The tide was running out or running in, +veining the floor of gold with misty blue traceries, and making bright +pools like bits of broken glass. The trees along our way were a +procession of benevolent giants holding green umbrellas over our heads, +because they mistook us for expected royalties; and on the smooth white +surface of the road they had scattered shadows like torn black Spanish +lace. Criffel followed us everywhere, trying jealously to keep us from +noticing that the noble mountains of Cumberland were still watching us +out of sight, across the Solway Firth. And indeed, Criffel, with some +small brother hills he had to-day collected, like the hasty gathering of +a clan, did manage to destroy the effect of distance so far as he and +his brethren were concerned. He and all the rest, no matter how far off, +pushed themselves into the foreground by means of their colour, so +violent a purple that it struck at the eyes, and vibrated in the ears +like rich wild notes of an organ rolling over the uplands of Scotland. +Only the sands and the sea looked distant, though really they were near; +and I worried about the groups of cattle gossiping so pleasantly +together about their cuds and calves. They had a placid air of ignoring +such large facts of life as incoming tides, and could never have read +what happened to Mary and her cows on the sands of Dee, a resort only +less fashionable in the cattle world than their own.</p> + +<p>Lights on sky and sands, seen through the netting of tree branches, were +like sweet bursts of laughter in the forests; and the glory of the +heather was a wordless song in praise of Scotland. Yet in these flying +Galloway landscapes there was an impression of the mystic and +melancholy, which reminded Sir S. of "The Twilight of the Gods": strange +purple rocks jutting out into water coldly bright as a sheet of mercury, +and desolate islands remote and haunted as the place where Gunter and +his sister lived in the opera. We seemed to be travelling through vast, +lonely places, though it was but a part of Galloway, and all Scotland is +but small—just large enough to give an eyeful of beauty always.</p> + +<p>When we came to the sparkling granite town of Dalbeattie (a miniature +Aberdeen, Sir S. called it) instead of going straight on toward +Kirkcudbright we turned westward to see the great stronghold of the +Black Douglases. It was no more than seven easy miles to Castle Douglas, +a little modern town all laid out in rectangles. Sailing straight +through, we came out on the edge of Carlingwark Loch, which rings a few +green islets with silver; and taking a side road we were close to the +river Dee. There, on a cushion of an island, only big enough to hold it, +rose the great ruin of Thrieve Castle, the home of the proud and +magnificent Douglases. Once boats must have carried the knights and +ladies back and forth between the mainland and the fourteenth-century +fastness of old Archibald the Grim. But now I saw a line of +half-submerged stepping-stones, the only way of crossing in these days +when there is no fighting or feasting at Thrieve, and no "tassel" +dangling from the knoblike "hanging stone" over the great gate.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Workers of high-handed outrage!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Making King and people grieve,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O the lawless Lords of Galloway!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">O the bloody towers of Thrieve!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Sir S. quoted as we stared up at the giant keep, seventy feet high, with +its tremendous walls. "They were a terrible power in the land, that +family, at their greatest, when they lorded it over Galloway and +Annandale, and owned Touraine and Longueville in France, and used to +ride out with a retinue of a thousand picked horsemen."</p> + +<p>"That nice soldier yesterday—Mr. Douglas at Carlisle—thinks they were +a <i>charming</i> family," said I. "He has an old proverb something like +this:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"So many, so good as of Douglases have been<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of one surname in Scotland never yet was seen."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>and he told me a great deal about the Douglas Heart."</p> + +<p>"He would!" mumbled Sir S. "There were good hearts and bad hearts among +them, but all were great hearts in the old days; anyhow, I'm not +surprised that Crockett got inspiration from this place when he used to +play here, coming over from Castle Douglas, where he was at school. He +must have had his head buzzing with story plots when he'd climbed up +inside the walls and crawled out to sit astride of the hanging stone. +I'll warrant he saw Maclellan beheaded in the courtyard while Sir +Patrick Gray, the King's messenger, supped with Douglas; and heard Mons +Meg fire off the first granite cannon-ball, that shot away the hand of +the Countess as she held a wine-glass up, drinking confusion to her +enemies. No wonder little boy Crockett got absent-minded one day, when +he dropped his watch instead of a pebble in wanting to test the time the +stone would take to fall."</p> + +<p>The next bit of Crockett-lore I heard was at Auchencairn in the deep, +indented bay we'd reached by turning south for the coast again. There, +it seemed, we were in the heart of Crockettland, for Hestan Island is +the Rathan Island of the "Raiders." All round was sweet, welcoming +country, low mountains and rippling meadows, where it seemed that the +Douglas soldiers had laid their glittering helmets down in long straight +ranks on a carpet of cloth o' gold. Over these fields of garnered wheat +came a breeze from the sea, with a tang of salt like a tonic mixture, +and there was a murmurous sound on the air, a message from the tide.</p> + +<p>There were hundreds of historic things to see, in every direction, if we +had had time for all: traces of the Attecott Picts; Pict forts and +tombs, castles of the Middle Ages; robber caves; Convenanters' +monuments; and at Balcarry, near Auchencairn, the landing-place of the +smuggler Yawkins, who was Scott's "Dirk Hatteraick." But we had only +five days for everything before the Great Day—which will be coming so +soon now. From Auchencairn we turned inland to a rolling country where +the Gray Dragon would be down one hill and halfway up another before he +knew what had happened. At Dundrennan—"Hill of the Thorn Bushes"—he +had his first mishap; but after the surprise of thinking a bomb had +exploded, I was glad he'd seized just that opportunity of bursting a +tire, because it gave us more time for the Abbey than we should have +given ourselves.</p> + +<p>While the chauffeur made the dragon's toilet, patching up a fat white +foot as he might have doctored the pad of an elephant, we wandered +about, and finally decided to lunch in a secluded corner of the +twelfth-century ruins.</p> + +<p>Mrs. James and I set out our picnic-table, a folding thing that Sir S. +carries in the car, and we counted on having the place to ourselves. +Tourists though we are, we scorn other tourists. But it seems incredible +that such as they can scorn us. We talked about Queen Mary and of her +last meal within those walls, and it felt sacrilegious to laugh and joke +where she had been so sad. We pictured her, young and beautiful, taking +leave of the loyal men who had begged her in vain not to trust +Elizabeth; and we could fancy the town turning out to see her vessel set +sail—a very different town it would have been then from the charming +little place it is to-day, with its low white cottages half covered with +flowers, the spotless walls as clean as damask tablecloths, and all so +gay and bright to the eye that grim Dundrennan Abbey in its midst is +like a skull fallen in a rose-garden.</p> + +<p>"Ah," sighed Mrs. James, shaking her head, with a jam puff in her hand, +"if the Queen had listened to Maxwell she might have lived in safety to +be an old woman!"</p> + +<p>"True, she might have kept her head," Sir S. agreed, comfortably cutting +himself a piece of plum cake; "but if she'd taken Maxwell's advice, +instead of sailing from Port Mary, never to see Scotland again, wouldn't +the whole civilized world miss its best-loved heroine of romance? No +other woman since history began has so captured the hearts of men, and +made herself so adored through the centuries, in spite of all her +faults, or because of them. Mary Stuart and Napoleon Bonaparte are the +two figures in history of whom no one ever tires of talking or reading."</p> + +<p>"Still, we must be sad at Dundrennan, where her last night in Scotland +was spent," Mrs. James mildly persisted, having eaten her puff while Sir +S. argued. "I wonder if Michael Scott the magician, who lived here (he +comes into the "Lay of the Last Minstrel," you know), had prophetic +visions of Queen Mary and her fate? I should think so, for he had the +secret of all sorts of spells. The people of the neighbourhood believed +that he'd locked up the plague in an underground room of the Abbey, and +for years they dared not excavate for fear the demon should leap out and +ravage the country. They used to think they could hear a rustling——"</p> + +<p>At that instant we heard one ourselves; a distinct rustling fell upon +our ears, and made us turn round with a start. The plague we feared was +tourists; but if it had been Michael Scott's demon, with a scarlet body +and a green head, I should have liked it better than Mrs. West's pale +purple coat and motoring bonnet. I don't know how Sir S. felt about the +surprise, but that was <i>my</i> feeling, though I was glad to see her +brother. I find him the nicest thing about Mrs. West.</p> + +<p>"Who would have thought of running against you?" she exclaimed, as Sir +S. jumped up from the table and shook hands as cordially as if there had +never been that mysterious row. "We've come from Port Mary, where Basil +sentimentalized over the stone Queen Mary stood on to get into her ship. +We haven't the patience to make our notes before luncheon! We're <i>so</i> +hungry, and there's such a lot to write about King David—<i>do</i> you think +he built the Abbey, or was it Fergus, Lord of Galloway?—and all this +architecture which interests Basil even when he's starving! We've +brought our own sandwiches—we won't bother you——"</p> + +<p>Of course Sir S. and Mrs. James both protested that having them was a +pleasure, not a bother. As for me, I remembered that little girls should +be seen and not heard, so I said nothing, and ate the nicest cake for +fear Mrs. West might get it. Sir S. gave his place at the table and his +folding-chair to Mrs. West, and finished his luncheon, standing up, with +Mr. Norman. After all, Mrs. West didn't seem to be hungry. She ate +scarcely anything, and when Sir S. asked her to have some ice-cold white +wine from the refrigerator basket, she said with a soft, sad smile, "'I +drink to thee only with mine eyes.'" Then, suddenly, hers filled with +tears, so they were liquid enough for a good long drink! She looked down +again quickly, with a blush which gave her complexion a peach-like +bloom; and Sir S. made haste to question Mr. Norman about the hired car. +But I could see that he was embarrassed and distressed, and wondered +more than ever what their quarrel was about. Sir S. wouldn't listen to +me the first day, when I said it was my fault, and I oughtn't to go in +his car. I'd almost forgotten that, it seemed so long ago; but I +remembered when I saw the tears in her eyes, and heard the strained +sound in his voice. Even Mr. Norman didn't look happy. Mrs. James was +the only one not affected. She ate her luncheon with a good appetite, +which the sorrows of neither Mrs. West nor Queen Mary could take away +from her.</p> + +<p>When we had finished, Mrs. West asked Sir S. in a gentle hesitating way +if he would mind explaining to her the beautiful Gothic doorway at the +south side of the church. It was such a chance to find a great authority +on architecture, like him, upon the very spot, for she and Basil were so +ignorant, they always feared to make mistakes in their notes. Sir S. +went like a lamb led by a chain of roses, but apparently Mr. Norman +didn't feel the same need of expert advice. He stopped with Mrs. James +and me, and helped us clear the table. When we'd packed everything up, +he offered to take the basket to the car; and, as the others hadn't come +back, I went with him, carrying the folding-chairs, which were not much +heavier than three feathers.</p> + +<p>"Have you remembered my advice?" he inquired. "Have you begun to write?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, a little," I said. "What about your book?"</p> + +<p>He shrugged his shoulders, looking melancholy.</p> + +<p>"Won't the plot come right?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"No. Nothing comes right."</p> + +<p>"What a pity!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, it's a pity. But I can't help it."</p> + +<p>"Can't Mrs. West help?"</p> + +<p>"She's not in the mood. Not that it's all her fault. Probably it's just +as much mine. We're getting on each other's nerves—and that's new to +us. There won't be a book. There can't be a book as things are."</p> + +<p>"Yet you're going on with your trip?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, we're going on with our trip. Aline wouldn't give that up."</p> + +<p>"If it hadn't been for me," I said, "it would have been all right for +you both. I feel a <i>beast</i>! I've spoiled everything."</p> + +<p>"You're a witch, and you've bewitched us. Yes! That's what you have +done."</p> + +<p>"Thanks for your polite way of putting it," said I. "'Witch' is a nicer +epithet than 'beast.' I wish—I almost wish—I'd never seen any of you!"</p> + +<p>"I don't," said he. "And I don't believe Somerled does. To go back to +the time when we didn't know that the witch-child existed would be going +back from electricity to candles."</p> + +<p>"You have a pretty way of poking fun at me," I laughed. "But I suppose +you mean I've given you all a shock. Well, you'll soon be rid of me. +Three days more, and the end! But I do wish I knew how to mend matters +and make you and your sister happy again, at once."</p> + +<p>"I could tell you how," he said quickly.</p> + +<p>"Do, then! You've just time, if you hurry up before the others come."</p> + +<p>He looked round, and there were Mrs. James and Mrs. West walking toward +us with Sir S. They were very near.</p> + +<p>He hesitated, and his face grew red. "Will you promise not to be angry?" +he almost whispered.</p> + +<p>"I promise! Tell me."</p> + +<p>"If you want to make everything come right for everybody in a minute, +you must turn your attention entirely to me."</p> + +<p>"What good would that do?" I asked stupidly.</p> + +<p>"It would do me all the good in the world, because, as I told you, +you've bewitched me. It would do my sister good because—well, because +she's particularly anxious for you to like me. And it would do Somerled +good because—it might teach him his own mind—bring him to his senses."</p> + +<p>"I don't understand one word you're talking about!" I broke out.</p> + +<p>"It doesn't so much matter what you understand as what you do. Dear +little Miss MacDonald, will you try and be very, very kind to me, +for—everybody's sake?"</p> + +<p>"Of course," said I. "But you must call me Barrie."</p> + +<p>"Thank you! That's one step. Will you call me Basil?"</p> + +<p>"If you like," I answered. "Basil and Barrie! Don't they sound nice +together?"</p> + +<p>Just then the others came up and heard what I said, which made me feel +foolish, as they'd missed the first part. But Mrs. West beamed at me. I +had been thinking that Basil Norman was the sort of man I should love to +have for a brother, but Mrs. West as a sister I could <i>not</i> stand!</p> + +<p>"Basil and Barrie <i>look</i> nice together too, don't they, Mr. Somerled?" +she remarked.</p> + +<p>"Very," said he dryly. And the next thing I knew was that she was +sitting beside him on the front seat, and I was tucked in beside Mrs. +James, with Basil Norman opposite. Their motor, it seemed, was not +behaving well, and Aline was nervous, so Sir S. had suggested, as we +were all going on to Ayr, that they should come with us for the rest of +the day.</p> + +<p>I felt rather dazed about everything, and I'm afraid made a hash of the +scenery in my mind, until I had calmed down. I remember that we swept +through Kirkcudbright, which was named for St. Cuthbert because his +bones were once in the church. They were taking them on somewhere else, +but I don't know why. Basil told us all about it; but it sounded so odd +to hear him talking instructively of saints and Covenanters and martyrs, +and "the torch of religion being first lighted in Galloway," after he +had been begging me in a very different voice to "be nice to him," that +it muddled up my intelligence. I liked the town because it was pretty, +with graceful spires and lovely, ivied ruins; but I didn't care much +about the saints, or even about the last Lord Selkirk, for whom they put +up a Celtic cross in the Kirkcudbright market place; and I couldn't be +bothered pronouncing Kirkcudbright correctly. Of course it's done in the +last way you think it possibly could be, like all other Scottish names! +I brightened up a little at the story of Paul Jones at St. Mary's Isle, +because pirates are always nice, and he was classic. Besides, it was +amusing of him to fail to kidnap Lord Selkirk and steal a silver teapot +instead. To please Benjamin Franklin he gave the teapot back, so he +didn't get much out of that adventure!</p> + +<p>I remember too that there were hills on the way to Gatehouse of Fleet, +hills which turned their backs and reared on their hind legs as we saw +them in the distance; but always they knelt meekly in front of the Gray +Dragon, as if he beat them to their knees. They were not so +accommodating to the hired car which followed. Something was the matter +with its internal economy. It grunted and groaned and emitted +evil-smelling fumes because it couldn't digest its petrol. Basil named +the creature Old Blunderbore, but said he would not dare to call it so +before its chauffeur-owner, who glared behind his goggles when it was +blamed for anything.</p> + +<p>Gatehouse of Fleet looked, according to Basil, like places in Holland, +because sailing ships were apparently moving through fields, and masts +mixing themselves up with tree branches. Suddenly we had plunged into +Scott country, sandwiched in with Crockett, for Gatehouse is the +"Kippletingan" of "Guy Mannering." There was a sweet, sad smell of the +sea; and I heard Mrs. West ask Sir S. if it didn't remind him of "that +last night on the ship, when we told each other things?"</p> + +<p>About this time, I think it must have been, we began to see so many old +castles dotted about the landscape that at last we almost ceased to +notice them. It must have been nice living in one of those box-like +fortress castles in old days, when all your friends had them too; so +jolly and self-contained. And, as a matter of course, when you built one +you had a few dungeons put in, just as one has plenty of bathrooms now +in a big house. If you were of a dramatic turn of mind, you placed your +dungeons mostly under your dining-hall, so you could hear the starving +prisoners groan while you feasted comfortably. We passed several dear +little towns, too, which I should like to have for toys, to keep in +boxes when not playing with them. On most of the houses were charming +chimney-pots of different colours, exactly like immense chessmen, set +out ready for a game. All the men in these towns looked almost ill with +intelligence. Most of the girls were very pretty, with little coquettish +features contradicted by saintly expressions, and even the dogs appeared +well educated and intellectual.</p> + +<p>At Newton-Stewart a change came over the houses, but not the people or +animals. I felt that the smallest child would know more about books than +I did; and there was hardly a nondescript face to be seen. All could be +classified in historic Scottish types. But the whitewashed, thatched +cottages in the suburbs would have looked Irish if they had not been too +preternaturally clean. In the streets of Newton-Stewart there was not so +much as a stray stick or bit of paper. It looked to me a deeply +religious place, and Basil said perhaps it was trying to be worthy of +St. Ninian, who first brought Christianity to Scotland. He was a native +of the Solway shore, but went to Rome, where they liked him very much +and made him a bishop. Then he felt impelled to convert his own people, +so he sailed from France and landed at the island of Whithorn, which is +now an excursion place from Newton-Stewart. That sounds irreverent, but, +after all, an excursion is only a kind of pilgrimage; and even if people +are catching fish or eating them, they can be pleased to be at the one +place in Scotland where Christianity has gone on without interruption by +Vikings or others for fifteen hundred years.</p> + +<p>Then, besides, Newton-Stewart has a monument of Samuel Rutherford to +live up to. And they ought to have one of his namesake, Samuel +Rutherford Crockett, who has done so much for Galloway.</p> + +<p>It was in honour of his "Raiders" that we took the longest way to Ayr. +Some of the best things in that book happened near Loch Trool, so we +wanted to see Loch Trool. Bruce was there too; but this was a Crockett +tour. We should have gone perhaps, even if the run had been dull, for +it's only thirteen miles from Newton-Stewart, paradise of fishermen, to +the hidden lake; but the thirteen miles turned out to be a panorama of +beauty. Sir S. was surprised by its loveliness, though he knew by heart +Burns's poem, "The Banks of the Cree." We did not come at once to the +river; but from House o' Hill (delicious name!) we plunged into a wild, +forgotten paradise. The road lay under an arbour of trees like an +emerald tunnel, with a break here and there in the green wall to show a +blue shimmer of mountains and hills in the distance. We seemed to have +slipped into the hole leading to fairyland and pulled the hole in after +us; but I knew I was not going to enjoy getting there as much as if my +gray bonnet and coat had been on the front seat instead of Mrs. West's +purple beauties. It was suddenly that we came into sight and sound of +the river, and so deep was the stillness that we might have strayed into +the haunt of a sleeping nymph. Nothing moved but the rushing brown +water, and there was no sound, when we stopped to listen, but its joyous +song and the humming of bees in bracken and heather.</p> + +<p>Basil can "make believe" more easily and less stiffly than Sir S., +because he is an author, and used to stringing whimsies together. He and +I "pretended" that the bees were a fairy band, playing to a hidden +audience in a theatre roofed with the silver sheen of arching ferns. +Wafts of perfume came to us, cooled in woodsy dells, or warmed on +sunshiny banks of flowers; but not a soul could be seen anywhere, nor a +house. We knew that this was an inhabited world only by the wires +stretched across the river for the sending of letters and parcels.</p> + +<p>Sunset-time had not nearly come yet, but already a silver slit was torn +in the blue of the sky; and for the second time the heather moon was +smiling its bright semicircular smile, as if to say, "Make the most of +me, Barrie, <i>your</i> time is short!" Yet how could I make the most of her +when I could see only my knight's back, with a purple shoulder as close +to his as possible, and the heather moon was <i>ours</i>?</p> + +<p>Suddenly Basil said, "Oh, there's your heather moon! I thought of you +yesterday after it rose until it set, and wondered what you were doing. +I do believe this <i>is</i> different from other moons. Don't you see, young +as it is, how it has power to change the yellow of the sunlight, seeming +to alloy it with silver?"</p> + +<p>I did see, but thought I must have fancied the effect, until he saw it +too. (We often think and see and say the same things, which is nice, but +not so exciting as the society of a man who thinks different things and +makes you argue.) The silver pouring down from that small crescent +seemed to sift through the strong golden light in a separate and +distinct radiance. It shimmered on the sea of waving hills and billowing +mountains that opened out before us, as if sprinkling a glitter of +sequins over the vivid green and amber and purple. Wherever there was +shadow this pale glimmer painted it with ethereal colours, like the +backs of rainbow fish moving under water. I might have jumped out of the +car and found the rainbow key, but nobody wanted it now!</p> + +<p>"Just as that young, young moon has power to shine through the strong +afternoon sunlight, so a girl may all in a moment throw her influence +over a group of people older and more experienced than herself," said +Basil, smiling at me, and then at Mrs. James, as if he didn't mind her +hearing the flowery compliment.</p> + +<p>"I don't know any such girl in real life," said I; "but you might work +her up for your book."</p> + +<p>"I shall have to put her in, if the book's to be written," said he.</p> + +<p>By and by we came to the lake, or, rather, far above it; and Sir S. +stopped the car to let us get out and look down. The water was a clear +green with glints of purple, as if beds of heather grew underneath. +There were jagged, bare rocks, and rocks whose shoulders were half +covered as if with torn coats of faded brocade, dim silver of lichen, +and pale pink of wild flowers. I hoped that Sir S. might join me for a +look at the heather moon lying deep in the lake like a broken bracelet, +but he didn't come. He looked at me very kindly from a distance, not +coldly, yet not warmly, and he stayed with Mrs. West.</p> + +<p>It was Basil who told me about Robert Bruce and his men hiding here, and +rolling huge stones on the heads of the English soldiers who marched +along the bank of the lake in search of the "outlaws." It seemed as if +nothing terrible could have happened in so sweet a wilderness; but that +was not the only horror. There were other wild deeds in history, and in +the story of the "Raiders," memories of hunts for Covenanters, and great +killings. But now all is peace, and I should have thought Loch Trool +forgotten by the world if, in a dell of birch, rowan, hazel trees, and +great pines like green umbrellas, I had not spied a roof.</p> + +<p>Sir S. said it was the roof of Lord Galloway's shooting-lodge, loved by +its owner because it was "out of tourist zone." So much the worse for +tourists! So much the better for Lord Galloway!</p> + +<p>I should hate to think of the road to Loch Trool smoking with motor +dust. Of course our own Gray Dragon's pure dust is a different matter!</p> + +<p>As we ran out of Crockett land into Ayrshire we came into Wallace land; +for every foot of Scotland is taken up twice over by something or +somebody wonderful. There isn't an inch left for new history-makers. If +we could see those "emanations" Sir S. talks of—those ghost +pictures—as far as the eye could reach we should see men marching, +splendid men and women, too, who have made the world shine with their +deeds, processions coming from every direction, out of the dim beginning +of things up to the present day.</p> + +<p>After the wildness of Loch Trool we had a country of plenteousness and +peace. Basil said it was like a Surrey set down by the sea, so I suppose +Surrey has big trees and flowery hedges and rolling downs, purple with +heather. But surely no heather can be as purple as Scottish heather?</p> + +<p>The sands of Girvan seemed to float like a golden scarf on the blue sea, +and the town looked a romantic, mediæval place till we shot into it. +Then we were disillusioned as to its age; but Ailsa Craig was noble in +the distance, and a few members of the gull colony had flapped over to +give town dwellers and visitors a sad serenade. "Gulls, golfers, and +geologists all love Girvan," Basil said.</p> + +<p>"Have you put that down in your notebook?" I inquired.</p> + +<p>"Not in those words. But I jotted down something about this town in +advance from authorities I've looked up. I generally keep two books +going: one in which I put the things I want to see, and ideas for plots +sometimes tangled up with a sort of diary; and another book of thoughts +about places I have already seen—thoughts I can weave into a story in +one way or another."</p> + +<p>"You haven't once written in either of your books to-day!" I accused +him.</p> + +<p>"No. I told you I'd given up note-taking for the present. I'm all at +sea. But just now it's a beautiful if not very calm sea."</p> + +<p>"When it quiets down you'll begin again," I consoled him. "How I should +love to see a real, live author's notebook! It would be so <i>useful</i> to +know how you manage to—to——"</p> + +<p>"Record impressions," Mrs. James helped me out.</p> + +<p>Smiling, Basil took from a breast-pocket a small green morocco volume +with a pencil slipped into a loop. Compared to Mrs. West's pretty book, +his was a shabby thing; but it smelt of good cigarettes.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid this will disillusion you," he said, "if you expect +something interesting. I simply make notes of things I want to see, or +jot down thoughts to recall pictures to my mind. Reading over one's +notebook is like glancing over a lot of kodak films. Sometimes one +sticks in a lot of nonsense."</p> + +<p>I opened the little volume, and ran my eyes down the short pages. +"Carlisle, Saturday, August Something or Other. Notes for Scotch Tour," +I read aloud. "Story of honeymoon. English hero—American girl. Aline +wants her Canadian. I see her American. Dispute. Must decide soon. +Reading up Galloway makes me want to go there. Aline says rush straight +on to Ayr, and save time. Hate saving time! Worst economy. More time you +spend, more you have. Must go along coast of Ayr, anyhow. Once lined +with strongholds of great families. See Dunure, Crossaguel, and deuced +lot of others.</p> + +<p>"Keats visited Burns's birthplace. Wrote sonnet there. Look this up.</p> + +<p>"Burns sought out, along banks of Ayr, places where Wallace was supposed +to have hidden. Good stuff this. Wallace fought all over the place here. +At Irvine, one of his earliest exploits. Kindled big fire, neighbouring +village. When English soldiers marched forth to put fire out, jumped on +them and killed the lot. Stuffed bodies into dungeon of castle at +Irvine. Called 'Wallace Larder' after that. Nasty larders people had in +those days. Read up account Douglas Larder. Compare the two. See which +worse. Why not call Barns of Ayr Wallace Oven? Read up Blind Harry for +picturesque story Barns of Ayr. Far as I remember, English enticed all +neighbouring Scots to powwow of some sort. Wallace expected; delay on +way. Scots executed on some pretext. When Wallace turned up, niece +warned him. He routed up few followers, set fire to barns and burnt +English, who were celebrating triumph over Wallace and his men. When get +to Ayr look this up further.... Word 'Whig' comes first from Ayr. Wonder +why? Look up. Also get Burns glossary. Dialect difficult. Aline won't +read Burns. Fear she's going to fail in this book. Thinks only of one +thing. But no matter. Courage, mon brave!</p> + +<p>"Sunday. Had batch bad notices of last book from America. Aline gone to +bed with headache as usual after bad reviews. Says we must economize. +She'll forget when we start and want best suites of rooms with baths +everywhere. I <i>know</i> that book was good. Hang notices! Understand so +well what Job meant when said, 'Oh, that mine enemy would write a book!' +He wanted to criticise it. Each new boil would suggest scathing epithet.</p> + +<p>"Monday. Everything changed. Old plot exploded in thousand pieces. +Mustn't be honeymoon couple. Heroine radiant young girl, eighteen, hair +red as Circe's, eyes of new-born angel, comes like bombshell into hero's +life. Not good simile, bombshell. Query, hero. Would she fall in love +with man of B. N.'s type? I see another type more probable, but don't +want that.</p> + +<p>"August 4th. Fearful row. General upset. Don't see any book unless I +write it alone. Aline says I can save situation for her. Would like only +too well do what she wants, but difficult bring it off as things are. +Chances in favour of other man. Temptation consent be cat's-paw. Is that +fair to the lovely chestnut in the fire? Extra-ordinary that child like +this can so upset us all. What is the electric attraction we can't +resist? More than normal amount of radium, perhaps!"</p> + +<p>"Well, why don't you laugh at the rattle of the dry bones?" asked Basil, +as I read on, more and more puzzled.</p> + +<p>"I haven't come to many funny things yet," said I, "except about Job. +That was rather good, though I don't see how you weave such things into +your books."</p> + +<p>"Job—Job?" he repeated vaguely. Then a rush of blood went over his +whole face, up to his forehead. His dreamy dark eyes looked suddenly +anything but dreamy. "Good Heavens!" he gasped. "What have you got +there?" and began to ransack all the pockets of his waistcoat and coat +until he found the twin of the book he'd given me. "This is what I meant +you to see," he said in a queer, ashamed voice.</p> + +<p>I handed the first book back to him. He seized it and glanced from page +to page, looking almost ill. By and by he came to something which seemed +to scare him. As far as I could tell, it was farther toward the end than +I had read.</p> + +<p>"Would you mind showing me where you left off," he asked.</p> + +<p>"It was where you were wondering whether your new heroine had swallowed +radium or something," said I.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" He looked relieved. "Well—I wouldn't have had you see that +idiotic stuff for a good deal. But I told you, didn't I, that if the +book went on I'd have to put you into it? There's a lot of silly rot +there. Poetical license!"</p> + +<p>"The thing that made the most impression on me was the part about the +red hair," I said. "The description sounded so nice. Who was Circe, +please? Was she Scottish? It's a name a Pictish princess might have +had."</p> + +<p>"The first Circe lived even before the Pictish princesses," Basil +answered, quieting down, though he was still very flushed. "But she's +had a good many descendants—one or two at least in each generation of +women born in every country. Not that you—I mean the new heroine—will +be one of them really."</p> + +<p>"What did Circe do?" I hurried on.</p> + +<p>"Do? She was an exceptionally attractive woman. She had a special kind +of magnetism that nobody could resist. She amused herself by turning all +the men she knew—there were quite a lot of them—into animals of +different sorts."</p> + +<p>"I think it would have been cleverer and more attractive of her if she +had turned animals into men," said I.</p> + +<p>"That's what <i>my</i> heroine can do," Basil explained. "She's a kind of +miniature baby Circe, for her red hair and general get up, and her +curious power of upsetting people and their plans from the first minute +they see her. But—my heroine wouldn't and couldn't turn her victims +into beasts. She makes them want to transform themselves into something +very extra special in the way of manliness."</p> + +<p>"Why do you call her <i>your</i> heroine with an emphasis?" I wanted to know. +"Isn't she your sister's heroine, too?"</p> + +<p>"No. My sister doesn't see her as a heroine for a novel. And that's why +I say the book we started out to write won't materialize. No author can +write a story he or she doesn't take a strong interest in."</p> + +<p>"That's where my writing is easier," I said. "I just put down all the +things exactly as they happen, and as I see and think about them. So +there's no heroine—and no hero—and no story."</p> + +<p>"Yes, that is simpler," he agreed. "That's the way the Great Author +writes His book. Only all His characters are heroes and heroines in the +stories of their own lives."</p> + +<p>As we talked, the moon went down in the west. The sky was a pale lilac, +like a great concave mirror reflecting the heather. Then it darkened to +a deeper purple, and made my thoughts feel like pansies, as they +blossomed in my mind. We fell into silence. But Mrs. James said +afterward that was because we were hungry and didn't realize what was +the matter with us. Perhaps she was right, but it didn't seem so prosaic +at the time.</p> + +<p>As the car brought us near the town of Ayr (which, with its lights +coming out, reddened the purple mirror) it was too dark to see details +clearly. But, driving slowly, we were aware of a thing that loomed out +of the quiet landscape and seemed strangely foreign to it, as if we were +motoring in Greece or Italy, not Scotland. It was a great classic +temple, rising on the banks of a stream that laughed and called to us +through the twilight.</p> + +<p>"Can it be somebody's tomb?" I asked. But there was no cemetery, only a +garden, and close by a camel-backed bridge that crossed the surging +river.</p> + +<p>"It must be the Burns monument," said Basil. "I've never been here, but +I've studied up the place and looked at maps till I can see them with my +eyes shut. This is the right place for the monument, with a museum, and +some garden statues of Tam o'Shanter and Souter Johnnie, which we'll +have to visit by daylight to-morrow. I hope you're going to invite me to +sight-see with you?"</p> + +<p>"It's not for me to invite any one."</p> + +<p>"Look as if you want to, and it's done."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'll do that!" I promised.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="VIIIa" id="VIIIa"></a>VIII</h2> + + +<p>We stopped at a big railway-hotel when we came into Ayr. Basil and Mrs. +West took rooms there too, because it was the best in town, and Mrs. +West always wants the very best—except when she's depressed by bad +notices of her books!</p> + +<p>It was late, and she was so faint with hunger that she begged us not to +dress, but to go to dinner in ten minutes. We agreed; but when we'd +hurriedly washed our hands and faces and assembled at the rendezvous, +there was no Mrs. West. Basil was the only one who didn't look +surprised. Ten more minutes passed, perhaps, giving us time to think how +hungry we were too, and then the lady appeared. She hadn't exactly +dressed, but she had done something to herself which made her look fresh +and lovely and elaborate, in contrast to Mrs. James and me.</p> + +<p>"Dear people!" she exclaimed, "I'm so sorry if I've kept you waiting, +but I simply couldn't find a <i>thing</i>; and the more haste, the less +speed, you know. Mr. Somerled, you've been here before in your +pre-American days. Do, like an angel-man, show me the way to the +dining-room. I can never get used to going in late, with a lot of people +staring. Basil will take care of Barrie and Mrs. James."</p> + +<p>I felt as if I should go mad and bite something if she were to cultivate +the habit of calling me "Barrie"; but as I'd invited both her brother +and Sir S. to do so, and Mrs. James had never called me anything else, I +couldn't very well make Mrs. West the one exception.</p> + +<p>A good many of the hotel guests had finished dinner by that time, but +twenty or thirty were still at their tables in the big dining-room, +which seemed to me absolutely palatial after my "glass retort." +Evidently we were well in the thick of "tourist zone" again, judging by +the look of the people, for most of them had the air of having travelled +half round the world in powerful and luxurious motor-cars. You could see +they weren't "local"—with four exceptions, our nearest neighbours. I +thought they were pets; but Mrs. West stared in that pale-eyed way I +noticed women have when they wish to express superiority or contempt.</p> + +<p>All four of the pets were old—two very old, two elderly. The first pair +wore bonnets which they must have had for years, things that perched +irrelevantly on the tops of their heads, and looked entirely extraneous. +The second two had something more or less of the hat tribe, and Sir S. +said this was because their elders considered them girls, and granted +them the right to be frivolous in order to attract the opposite sex. +Mrs. West was sure that such headgear couldn't be got for love or money +except in small remote Scottish towns. "Might come from Thrums," said +Sir S. I'd never heard of Thrums, and Basil explained that it was a +famous place in a novel, written by a man of my name, Barrie. "The real +place is Kerrimuir," he went on, and promised to give me the book.</p> + +<p>At this Sir S. glanced our way for an instant, looked as if he +wanted to speak, changed his mind, and turned again to Mrs. West, next +whom he sat, with Mrs. James on his other side. No wonder, I thought, +he liked better to look at her than me, as she was so fresh and +elaborate and charming. All through dinner he talked to Mrs. West +and a little to Mrs. James, leaving Basil to entertain me, which he +did very kindly. Still, Sir S. seemed annoyed because a party of +young American men at a table near ours stared at me a good deal, +though he didn't care to pay me any attention himself. He drew his +eyebrows together and glared at them once, whereupon the nicest +looking of the four (and they were all good-looking) bowed. Sir S. +returned the nod stiffly, with an "I-wonder-if-I-really-<i>do</i> +know-you,-or-if-this-is-a-trick-to-claim-acquaintance?" sort of +expression.</p> + +<p>Perhaps I ought to have been annoyed too, but I wasn't a bit. They were +<i>such</i> nice boys, so young, and having such a glorious time! I was glad +they looked at me and not at Mrs. West, and I was sure they didn't mean +to be rude. Probably they'd seen mother, or her photographs, and were +puzzling over the resemblance which Sir S. and Basil both say is very +strong, in spite of "marked differences." Whenever we speak of her, I +feel as if I could hardly wait till Monday, though at other times the +present seems so enchanting I can't bear to have it turn into the past.</p> + +<p>The American boys (I thought that none of them could be over twenty-one) +lingered at their table a long time after they seemed to have finished +their dinner. They played some kind of game with bent matches which made +them laugh a good deal; but the minute we got up, I heard them push back +their chairs, though I didn't turn my head.</p> + +<p>Basil and I walked out of the dining-room after the rest of the party, +and the boys came close behind us. I heard one say in a low voice, "Did +you ever see such hair?" and I felt a sort of creep run all the way down +my plait and up again into my brain, because I've been brought up to +think red hair ugly, and it's hard to believe every one isn't making fun +of it. However, I remembered what Sir S. said about the flame-coloured +heads of the children in the road, and that stuff Basil wrote in his +notebook about Circe. Then I felt better, and hoped that the boys were +not laughing.</p> + +<p>Outside the dining-room door the handsomest one got near enough to speak +to Sir S. "How do you do, Mr. Somerled?" he said. "Don't you remember +me? I'm Jack Morrison, Marguerite's cousin. I met you twice at Newport +while you were painting her portrait."</p> + +<p>"Marguerite Morrison. 'M. M.,' the grateful model who gave him the +refrigerator basket!" thought I. And Sir S. proceeded to give the cousin +a refrigerator glance; but it didn't discourage him. He went on as +cordially as ever. "My three chums want to be presented: Dick Farquhar, +Charlie Grant, Sam Menzies. We're all Harvard men, seeing Europe in +general and Scotland in particular, in our vacation. We've every one of +us got Scottish blood in our veins, so we sort of feel we've earned the +right to make your acquaintance. And we've been wondering if you'd +introduce us to your friends, if you don't think it's cheek of us to +ask!"</p> + +<p>Sir S. looked as if he did think it great "cheek"; but if he hesitated, +Mrs. West quickly decided for him. She gave the nice American boy one of +her sweet, soft smiles, and said, "Of course Mr. Somerled will introduce +you all to us; or you may consider yourselves introduced, and save him +the trouble. My name is Aline West, and this is my brother, Basil +Norman."</p> + +<p>She went through this little ceremony in a charming way, yet as if she +expected the young men to be delighted; and I too thought they would +burst into exclamations of joy at meeting celebrities. But not a word +did any of the four say about the books, or their great luck in meeting +the authors. Perhaps they were too shy, though they didn't seem shy in +other ways. They just mumbled in a kind of chorus. "Very pleased to know +you both" (which Mr. Norman told me afterward is an American formula, on +being introduced); and when they'd bowed to the brother and sister and +Mrs. James (though she hadn't been mentioned) all four grouped round me. +This was natural, I suppose, because we were more or less of an age.</p> + +<p>"Is this your daughter, Mrs. West?" asked Jack Morrison. "And may we +children talk to her?"</p> + +<p>For a minute that pretty, sweet-faced woman looked exactly like a cat. +She did, really. It almost gave me a shock! I thought, "She must have +<i>been</i> a cat in another state of existence, and hasn't quite got over +it." Not that cats aren't nice in their way; but when ladies in +fascinating frocks, with hair beautifully dressed, suddenly develop a +striking family likeness to Persian pussies robbed of milk, it does have +a quaint effect on the nerves.</p> + +<p>"Miss MacDonald is <i>not</i> my daughter," said Mrs. West, laughing wildly. +"I'm not <i>quite</i> old enough yet to have a daughter of her age, and she's +not such a child as she looks. But <i>do</i> talk to her, by all means. I'm +sure she'll be very pleased."</p> + +<p>"Then your name <i>is</i> MacDonald?" Jack Morrison exclaimed. "We were +saying at dinner how much you look like Mrs. Bal MacDonald, the +beautiful actress. Is she any relation?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, she is," I answered. And I would have gone on to tell him and his +friends that she was my mother, but I saw Sir S. and Mrs. West and Basil +looking as if they wanted to get away, so I dared not go into +particulars.</p> + +<p>"Do tell us about it," said all the American boys together, when I +paused to take breath and think. I should have loved to stop and talk +about mother, but magnetic thrills of disapproval from my guardians +crackled through me. "If you're in Edinburgh next week maybe you'll find +out," I said consolingly. "But now I must go."</p> + +<p>I bowed nicely, and they bowed still more nicely, trying to look +wistful, as if they didn't want me to hurry away.</p> + +<p>We went to a private sitting-room Sir S. had taken, so I suppose he had +invited Basil and Mrs. West; and I thought they would speak of the +American boys, but nobody even referred to their existence. This made me +feel somehow as if I were being snubbed. I don't know why, for nobody +was unkind.</p> + +<p>Afterward, when Mrs. James and I went to our adjoining bedrooms, I asked +her if I had done anything I ought not to have done.</p> + +<p>"No, my dear child," said she, smoothing my hair, which I'd begun to +unplait. "Nothing except——" and she hesitated.</p> + +<p>"Except what? Tell me the worst."</p> + +<p>"There isn't any worst. You did nothing that Mrs. West and I wouldn't +like to do, if we could. I won't go into particulars, if you don't mind, +because it wouldn't be good for you if I did, and might make you +self-conscious—a great misfortune that would spoil what some of us like +best in you. But you needn't worry."</p> + +<p>"Mrs. West looked as if she longed to scratch my eyes out. She needn't +have been so <i>very</i> vexed at my being taken for her daughter. I'm not a +scarecrow, or a village idiot."</p> + +<p>Mrs. James laughed, a well-trained little laugh she has, which seems +taught to go on so far and no farther—like the tune I once heard a +bullfinch sing in a shop.</p> + +<p>"My dear, you're too young and unworldly to understand these things," +she said. "A pretty woman, a celebrity like Mrs. West, isn't pleased +when she expects all the attention of young gentlemen for herself, to +find that she goes for nothing, and all they want is to talk to some one +else. And then, at her age, to be taken for a grown-up girl's mother! I +couldn't help being sorry for her myself. I know what it is to want to +keep young."</p> + +<p>"But you're thinking of Doctor James," said I. "And she's a <i>widow</i>. +Besides, she's always calling me a child, and telling me to play dolls."</p> + +<p>"Well, that isn't to say that she wants all the men there are to play +dolls with you," chuckled Mrs. James.</p> + +<p>"These were boys, compared to her. She must be <i>thirty</i>."</p> + +<p>"Maybe she's more, if the truth were known. But why should it be known? +Even when we're thirty and—er—a little over—we like to be admired by +boys as well as others. It makes us feel we haven't got <i>beyond</i> things. +Still, she needn't grudge you those lads. She's got the great Somerled."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I suppose she has," I admitted grudgingly.</p> + +<p>I went to bed feeling as if elephants had walked over me for years.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Next morning Sir S. seemed to take it for granted that Basil would look +after Mrs. James and me. He certainly put on rather a "kind uncle" air +with me, but the more he did so, the less and less I felt as if he were +my uncle, and the more and more I wanted to have him for my knight—mine +all alone, without so much as a link of his chain armour for any one +else.</p> + +<p>It is strange, as I've thought often before already, how one can get to +feel in such a way about a person one has known only a few days. But you +see, <i>I've known Sir S. in a motor-car</i>. I do believe that makes a +difference. Motor-cars vibrate, and you vibrate in them faster than you +do when not in motor-cars; so your feelings travel much faster than they +would in any other way. <i>That</i> must be the scientific explanation of +what I feel for Sir S.</p> + +<p>Here we were in Ayr, whither we'd come to think about Burns and nobody +else (unless, perhaps, Wallace) and this was to be the beginning of a +special little tour, following all along the line of Burns's pathway in +life, from his birth in the town of Ayr, to his death in the town of +Dumfries. We'd hurried through Dumfries almost with our eyes shut, on +purpose not to see where he died, before he was born, so to speak; and I +had thought all this inspiration on the part of Sir S. I fancied that he +had planned it partly for my sake, because of my being just out of the +glass retort. But now he abandoned me to another; and seeing him +entirely absorbed in Mrs. West kept me from dwelling on Burns as much as +I ought. If you are to concentrate your mind on historical characters or +poets, you must clear your brain out to make room for them, whereas mine +was stuffed full of fancies about myself and other people, none of whom +are historical at all yet—except, perhaps, the great Somerled.</p> + +<p>Neither could Basil think exclusively of Burns, as we walked together +through the pleasant town of Ayr, after our early breakfast. He was +absent-minded once or twice, and when I said, "A penny for your +thoughts!" he answered that they were of the book he would like to write +but couldn't.</p> + +<p>"The men I want to write about are boiling with primitive passions," +said he, laughing, "and that won't do for a 'motor-novel.' Not that +people who travel in motor-cars aren't mostly boiling with primitive +passions for one cause or another, every minute. But the critics won't +have it. According to them, characters can experience grand emotions +only when they are keeping still, not when they're being hurled about +the country. The proper place for primitive emotions is in small fishing +villages, or, better still, on Devonshire moors, or, best of all, in the +illimitable desert. So you see the men I have in my mind wouldn't go +down with the critics, because unfortunately they happen to be in a +motor-car."</p> + +<p>Talking of men in motor-cars, at that moment an enormous red car, going +very fast, changed its mind suddenly, stopped short in twice its own +length, and out jumped four men. They were the Americans of last night, +and by this time I had mixed up their names (except Jack Morrison's, +because he was so good-looking, with square blue eyes), but they +labelled themselves over again very neatly for me. The freckled one was +Dick Farquhar; the one with a moustache like the shadow of a coming +event, Charlie Grant; the one with the scar on his forehead, Sam +Menzies; but they had funny nicknames for each other. Afterward Basil +said they made him feel as if his name ought to be Methuselah.</p> + +<p>The boys had been going to Burns's birthplace in their motor-car, but +they asked if they might walk round the town with us, and take to their +auto later. I looked appealingly at Basil, for they were such fun, so he +said, "Yes, of course"; and they were very polite, and called him "sir," +as they had Mr. Somerled the night before. But each time they used the +word, Basil looked as if he were swallowing bad medicine, and yet as +though he were inclined to laugh. Presently, however, he went ahead with +Mrs. James, following his sister and Sir S., and left me to the four +boys. We laughed at everything. I'm afraid it wasn't at all the spirit +to go hero-worshipping; and none of them knew anything about "The Twa +Brigs" of Burns's poem. I should have liked to call Basil and ask him, +but they said they should feel it would be money in their pockets never +to have been born if I "shunted" them like that, so we laughed a great +deal more and went on wallowing in ignorance. They seemed to take it for +granted that I would rather be with them than with the others, and they +paid me all sorts of funny compliments. They vowed that they had +resolved to change their whole trip because of me, and wherever I was +going they would go too; so, just for fun, I would tell them nothing +except that it was to be Edinburgh on Monday. Cross-question as they +might, I would say no more than that they must find out my hotel, and +how I was related to "Mrs. Bal" (as they all called her) for themselves, +if they were to find out at all.</p> + +<p>They knew little more about Wallace than Burns. When we stopped in front +of the monument in the High Street, coming back from the Auld Brig, Jack +Morrison began grandly with "Scots wha hae wi' Wallace bled," but he +could get no farther, and stopped to ask helplessly, "Where <i>did</i> he +bleed, anyhow? Was it here, and if not, why did they put up the +monument?"</p> + +<p>Even I knew that Wallace was born in Ayr; and when I impudently inquired +what they came to Europe to see, if they cared more about football than +history, they all answered that they came to see pretty girls. "And, by +Jove, we're doing it!" added Charlie Grant.</p> + +<p>"Can't you find pretty girls at home?" I sneered.</p> + +<p>"We have found 'em. We're looking for new types now," said Jack. "So's +the great Somerled, isn't he? He told my Cousin Marguerite that he was +going a long journey in search of a model with the right shade of hair, +which was hard on her, poor girl, as she's spent a pot o' money on hers. +But Somerled's a sardonic sort of chap, don't you think? They say his +money's spoilt him. He hardly ever paints nowadays. Too busy grubbing +for millions. I've heard that you have to go on your knees to get him to +do a portrait—and if he graciously consents, you can't tell but he'll +bring out all that's most evil in your soul on to your face, like a +rash. You never know what'll happen with him—except his fee. Nothing +less than ten thousand dollars, if you get off cheap."</p> + +<p>"I don't think he's that kind of a man at <i>all</i>," said I, "Why, just to +prove to you that he isn't, he's offered to paint me for nothing!"</p> + +<p>They all roared at this, and wouldn't explain why. I didn't like them +much, for five minutes; but after that I couldn't help forgiving them +again.</p> + +<p>We took the Gray Dragon for Alloway and for Burns's birthplace, but the +boys jumped into their car and kept close behind us. Hardly had we got +into the tiny thatched house—once a mere "clay biggin"—where Burns was +born, than the four appeared on the scene. Mrs. West was scarcely civil +to them at first, until Basil whispered (only in fun, of course, but she +took it seriously, as she often does when people think they're being +humorous), "If you're nasty to those boys, it will be a bad +advertisement. They won't read your books or tell their friends they're +the best books going!" She was quite kind and elderly-sisterly to them +after that. But nice boys as they are, it did grate on me having them +make jokes every minute, even about that wonderful, pathetic little room +with the railed-off furniture and curtained wall-bed.</p> + +<p>Luckily I had been reading about the cottage and everything else +concerning the Burns family while I dressed. I knew already how Burns's +father built the tiny house with his own hands; how the night that +Robert was born, a fearful storm came up which threatened to sweep away +the whole biggin; and how the poor young mother had to be hustled off to +a neighbour's cottage. How little the poor couple guessed that the baby +born "in thunder, lightning and in rain" would make of the clay biggin a +world's shrine, to be bought by the nation for four thousand pounds. +Maybe it cost five pounds to build. How I did want to believe that from +one of the bowls kept on a shelf in that room of the wall-bed Burns had +eaten his porridge as a child. Of course that would be almost too good +to be true; but he did eat his porridge in that room, anyhow—and often +wanted more than he could get. What brains of genius have been nourished +on porridge and oaten cake in this country of ours! I felt more than +ever proud of my Scottish blood as I stood in that low-ceilinged +cottage; and I wondered if Sir S. had the same glorious thrill. I didn't +know if he had ever before come to Ayr; but I did know that his first +home on our own island of Dhrum must have been much like this—just a +clay biggin with a but and a ben. He, too, was born a genius. He, like +Burns, knew grinding poverty. He, too, was taken up by great ones and +dropped again, for he has told me so.</p> + +<p>Once Sir S. was near me for a minute—without his Aline—and I did want +some word to prove that I was still his princess, he my knight. But all +I got from him on the subject was: "Well, do you think the knights +'notice' that you're a princess?"</p> + +<p>I stared, bewildered. Then I remembered our conversation in the car, +before Mrs. West came and annexed the front seat. Of course I knew he +meant the American boys.</p> + +<p>"They notice that I'm like my mother," said I.</p> + +<p>"Oh, is that all?" And he laughed. Then Mrs. West flitted over to ask if +we oughtn't to go to the museum.</p> + +<p>It is a pathetic little museum, with intimate relics and countless +pictures of Burns, each one making him look entirely different from all +the others. By and by we went on to the monument, the strange classic +temple that had loomed out of the twilight as we came to Ayr. The road +from town to the monument was the way of Tam o' Shanter's wild ride, or +almost the same; only there's a tram-line now to spoil the romance, if +one chooses to let it be spoiled. As for me, I'd scorn to let romance be +broken by an object so dull as a tram-car. When things are ugly I simply +make them transparent for my eyes, and see through them as if they +didn't exist.</p> + +<p>I had to do a good deal of this juggling in the neighbourhood of the +monument; for the booths bristling with Burns souvenirs, and the tea +gardens where crowds drink to Burns's memory in ginger pop and fizzy +lemonade, would be rather dreadful if they were not funny. I'm sure, +though, Burns's sense of humour would make him laugh a mellow, ringing +laugh: if he could see those thousands of bottles of temperance drinks +being emptied in his honour.</p> + +<p>It was good to escape from the gay, meretricious gardens to the +graveyard of Alloway Auld Kirk, where Tam o' Shanter's witches danced, +and where Burns's father lies buried. There was peace, too, where the +Brig o' Doon arched its camel-back over a clear brown, rippling stream. +There, through the singing of the water, through the playing of an old +blind fiddler scraping the tune of "Annie Laurie," I could hear the true +Burns song, the music of his thoughts sweetly ringing on, to keep the +world young, as the bright water leaps on forever to give its jewels to +the sea.</p> + +<p>We went back from Alloway to Ayr, and lunched early in our own hotel. +The boys lunched early too, and when we started out on the next stage of +our Burns pilgrimage, we saw their red car panting in front of the +hotel. I had heard no talk of new plans for Basil and Mrs. West, but +they must have talked things over with each other or Sir S., for +Blunderbore was vibrating healthily between the Gray Dragon and the Red +Prince. I could have jumped for joy when I saw Blunderbore, and kissed +him on his bonnet. Already in imagination I was in my old place on the +front seat of our car, beside my knight; but the first words of Sir S. +snatched me off again and left me dangling in mid-air.</p> + +<p>"Sure your motor's all right again?" he inquired of Basil.</p> + +<p>I held my breath for the answer.</p> + +<p>"Yes, thanks, quite all right."</p> + +<p>"You know"—and Sir S. turned to Mrs. West—"we're delighted to keep you +as our guests."</p> + +<p>"You <i>are</i> good," she answered, "but—we mustn't wear out our welcome."</p> + +<p>"Don't be afraid of that." (I did so wish I could have been sure whether +his tone was eager or only cordial! Probably Mrs. West was wishing the +same.)</p> + +<p>"Thanks a thousand times, but we'll sample our own car for a while. We +shall meet and exchange impressions. And perhaps—after Edinburgh——"</p> + +<p>She broke off, leaving the rest to our imagination. Mine was so lively +that it gave my heart a pinch. I could see what she meant as clearly as +if she had held a photograph before my eyes: me, with mother, waving +good-byes from a hotel door; she and her brother transferred permanently +to the Gray Dragon, the Row forgotten; Blunderbore's nose turned meekly +back toward Carlisle; Mrs. James out of the picture. Just for an instant +I could have cried. Then I reminded myself for the twentieth time that +in a few days <i>nothing</i> can matter, because I shall have my own dear, +beautiful mother, who will make up to me for everybody and everything +else.</p> + +<p>I don't know how I should have borne it if Mrs. James had wanted to sit +in front, but the angel didn't. And presently there was I in my old +place, feeling as if weeks instead of hours had elapsed (yes "elapsed" +is the most distance-expressing word) since I last sat shoulder to +shoulder with Sir S.</p> + +<p>That feeling of long-ago-ness made me a little shy, and to save my life +I couldn't think of a word to say except about the weather; so I said +nothing at all, and he said the same. By and by I began to count. When I +had got up to five hundred, and still he hadn't spoken, I knew I should +certainly burst if nothing happened before a thousand.</p> + +<p>"Well?" he murmured at last in an isolated way.</p> + +<p>"Five hundred and eighty-six," I counted aloud inadvertently.</p> + +<p>"Eh?" said he.</p> + +<p>"I was just seeing how many I should have to count before you spoke."</p> + +<p>"H'm! I'm afraid you do find me a dull companion after all your latest +acquisitions. But what can I do? In a way I'm your guardian temporarily. +I can't let you run about the country alone with hordes of young men. I +may seem selfish; but I have done my best for you since other and +younger knights came upon the field."</p> + +<p>"That <i>is</i> hypocritical!" I flung at him. "You shed me on others because +you like the society of a grown-up woman better than mine; and then you +pretend you're doing it for my sake. I <i>like</i> that!"</p> + +<p>"I thought you would like it. That's why I did it."</p> + +<p>"Not because you wanted to talk to Mrs. West?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, of course I like talking to her. Don't you like talking to her +brother, and all that drove of boys?"</p> + +<p>"Why—yes, I like talking to them well enough, but——"</p> + +<p>"But what?"</p> + +<p>"You ought to <i>know</i>, without telling."</p> + +<p>"I don't know. Are we playing at cross purposes?"</p> + +<p>"How can I tell, if you can't?"</p> + +<p>"How can I, if you <i>won't</i>?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't let's argue about nothing! Let's be happy—perfectly happy."</p> + +<p>"In other words, if milk has been spilt, don't water it with salt tears, +but leave it to collect cream."</p> + +<p>"Yes. Why doesn't everybody treat spilt milk like that?"</p> + +<p>"It doesn't occur to poor worried humanity. It wouldn't occur to me in +other society—Princess."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Sir Knight." I couldn't resist nestling my shoulder closer +to his in joy and gratitude: and then an odd thing happened. A tiny +shock of electricity seemed to flash through his shoulder to mine. I +never felt anything like it before. It made my heart stop and afterward +beat fast. I had to talk of something irrelevant in a hurry, so I +grabbed at Burns: and indeed we ought not even for a minute to have +talked of any other subject on this road, which we were exploring only +because of Burns. Not that the high road between Kilmarnock and Dumfries +wouldn't be worth seeing if Burns had never set foot on it, and if no +other great ones had passed that way. It would be worth travelling for +itself alone, for every mile has its own special beauty. And the more I +think of Scotland the more I tell myself she is like a wise connoisseur +(I hope that's the word!) who goes ahead of others to a sale of splendid +pictures, and secures the finest for herself at a bargain. Several of +the prettiest pictures hang on the blue-and-gold walls of the Burns +country.</p> + +<p>We came suddenly into view of Arran when the car had spun us along an up +and down road to Ochiltree and Cumnock. It was I who, looking back, +first caught sight of the jagged pinnacles boldly painted in purple on a +far, pale sky. I didn't know what they were, but Sir S. put on the +brakes quickly, and let us stop to look. He remembered the cliffs, and +gazed at them with a light in his eyes which would have told me, if I +hadn't known before, that he had been homesick for Scotland all these +rich, successful years, whether consciously or not.</p> + +<p>By and by we came to the Nith, which afterward we did not leave; and +through a green glen wound the "sweet Afton" Burns wrote of and loved +almost as dearly as he loved its elder brother. Here in this valley, +companioned with his own starry thoughts, he walked and rode, happy in +his fellowship with Nature, even though poverty made him an exciseman at +fifty pounds a year. He had to put down smuggling with one hand and +write his glorious poetry with the other, as Mrs. James expressed it. At +New Cumnock he would spend a night sometimes on his way to Ellisland, +his "farm that would not pay," near Dumfries.</p> + +<p>Always following in the track of Burns, the Gray Dragon dashed up and +down short, steep, switchbacked hills (which must have tried any steed +of ancient days except a witch's broomstick) and whisked us into +Sanquhar, the "sean cathair" or "old fortress" of earliest Gaelic times, +now snappily called "Sanker." There Queen Mary rested, going to +Dundrennan after the terrible battle of Langside; there Prince Charlie +marched; and there was a monument of granite to the Covenanters Cameron +and Renwick. Burns must have dreamed of Queen Mary when duty brought him +to Sanquhar; and Renwick would have been a person to appeal to him, +because of his youth and good looks, and because the "pretty lad" was +the last martyr to the Covenant. But perhaps he thought most of all of +that Admirable Crichton who was born at Sanquhar, not in the castle of +his wild and brilliant family, but at Eliock House. Burns would maybe +have liked him not so much for taking his degree at St. Andrews when he +was twelve, or for knowing ten languages and many sciences, as for +wandering adventurously over the world, winning tilting matches at the +Louvre, and the love of ladies at Padua and Venice.</p> + +<p>Mrs. James had bought a book with quotations from a diary of Burns, and +she read out to us while the car stopped at Sanquhar what he had written +about one specimen day:</p> + +<p>"Left Thornhill at five in the morning. Rode four miles to Enterkinfoot +and made a call: thence three miles to Slunkerford with another call: +thence six miles to Sanquhar, where there were twenty official visits to +be made: thence two miles to Whitehall, with two more calls: and a +return journey to Sanquhar, finishing the day's work at seven in the +evening."</p> + +<p>Poor poet. But he had always his glowing fancies to keep his heart warm. +We felt almost guilty because we had no horrid calls to make, as he had; +nothing to do but enjoy the scene made magical by his love of it: the +valley with its near green hills and distant peaks of Galloway and +Lowther; the river girdling wooded reaches with a belt of silver, or +burrowing through deep rocky channels, purple as heather petrified. It +was all as different from yesterday's Crockettland as if we had crossed +the ocean from one to the other.</p> + +<p>At Carronbridge we saw the woods of Drumlanrig on our right hand; and +Sir S. told me about the Duke of Queensberry who spent all his money in +building the splendid castle, slept in it one night, saw the bills for +it, cursed himself and it, and went away with nothing left but a broken +heart. "Deil pyk out the een of him who sees this," he wrote on the back +of the biggest bill.</p> + +<p>There's a Burns museum at lime-tree-shaded Thornhill, but I refused to +go in and stare at an original cast of his skull. I do think a man, +especially a great genius, ought to be allowed the privacy of his own +skull!</p> + +<p>Closeburn is the place where the Kirkpatricks, the Empress Eugénie's +family, used to live before they went to Spain. At Auldgirth we went +over a bridge built by Carlyle's father. At Mauchline Burns grew from a +boy into a man and fell in love. At Ellisland, Burns lived for a long +time with his handsome wife, Jean Armour. At Dalswinton the first +steamboat made its first trip, and Burns was on it. All round us now was +Scott's "Red-gauntlet" country; and the bridge crossing the Nith at +Dumfries was built by Devorgilla. There was something to see and think +of every minute; and in fifty-nine miles we had followed Burns's whole +life-story on its slow way from Ayr to Dumfries. Only—we couldn't +follow his thoughts to the stars!</p> + +<p>We had stopped many times; still it wasn't yet five o'clock, and we had +time to see all that's sacred to Burns at Dumfries, the "Fair Queen of +the South," as Sir S. called it, quoting I don't know what.</p> + +<p>First we went to the house in Bank Street where Burns came when he left +Ellisland, and had seventy pounds a year to live on instead of fifty—a +sad and grim little house, where in the wee closet that was his study we +could hear the music of the Nith, but catch no sparkle of its water. He +had hardly air enough to fan the fire of genius, yet it went on turning +brightly because nothing could put it out. If it was a sad house to live +in, it must have been even sadder to die in. He'd have liked his last +look to be on sky and meadow, or he would not have said in his "Song of +Death":</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Farewell, thou fair day, thou green earth and ye skies,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Now gay with the broad setting sun.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Farewell, loves and friendships, ye dear tender ties!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Our race of existence is run."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>I found those words in the Poems bound in tartan which Basil had bought +for me in a fascinating bookshop at Ayr and I read them in the room +where the poet died. Afterward I was glad to see in St. Michael's +churchyard a great many of the "loves and friendships" resting near him +in his long sleep. Their presence consoled me for the mausoleum which +nobody can admire nowadays, or think worthy of him. Almost, I would +rather have had him lie under one of those strange, enormous tombstones +like stone cupboards or tables which clutter the graveyard.</p> + +<p>While we were trying to find the burial-place of Napoleon's doctor, and +some martyrs and cholera victims Mrs. James was interested in, Mrs. West +and Basil appeared, and then the Americans. Sir S. looked horribly +bored, when he saw the four tall, brown, nice-looking boys, and asked me +quite fiercely if I'd given them permission to follow us every step of +the way. I snapped back, "No, of course not!" And immediately he said, +"Forgive me. If you had, after all where would be the harm?"</p> + +<p>There was no time for more. We had to say, "How do you do?" to Basil and +Aline; and then the boys surged round us, in their high spirits rather +like big Newfoundland puppies sacrilegiously racing each other among the +graves. They had been reading up history on purpose to please me, they +announced, and were ready to bet five pounds against a glove that they +knew more than I did. Was I aware that Dumfries meant "fort in the thorn +bushes?" Had I learned that the British Christian chief, who was the +real King Arthur, fought with pagan Saxons all along the Nith. Did I +know it was in Grayfriars, or the Minories Church, that Bruce killed the +Red Comyn, Devorgilla's grandson?</p> + +<p>They won the glove; and then there was a scene when they took a penknife +and cut it up in four pieces, one for each man. I tried to keep them +from being so foolish, but might as well have tried to stop the wind +from blowing; and it was no wonder that Mrs. West turned her back on us +rather than see those dreadful boys ostentatiously stowing away the bits +of gray kid in what Jack Morrison called their "heart-pockets."</p> + +<p>I was afraid Sir S. might think it was my fault, their coming to stay at +the pretty hotel he'd chosen for us because it overlooked the river; but +it wasn't a bit. It was just as much a coincidence as Mrs. West and +Basil finding three Canadian friends already there—perhaps even <i>more</i> +of a coincidence; for it didn't seem to me that Mrs. West was really +astonished at finding these people at a Dumfries hotel, or they at +finding her and Basil. I was there when they met in the hall: two rather +handsome dark men, brothers, named Vanneck, and the fair, thin little +wife of the younger one. All they said at first was, "Well, this <i>is</i> +nice! How do you do?" And it struck me afterward, when I thought it +over, that if it had been a great surprise, they would have mentioned +it. I wondered if they hadn't corresponded and arranged it somehow, for +they appeared to know each other very well, and to be the best of +friends, especially the elder Mr. Vanneck and Mrs. West, who called each +other "Aline" and "George." After dinner it turned out that she had been +inviting the Vannecks to go on to Melrose and Edinburgh in Old +Blunderbore, without consulting the chauffeur-owner of the car. He +thought the load, with extra luggage, too heavy for Blunderbore's +powers; consequently Mrs. West threw herself on the mercy of Sir S. She +asked if the Gray Dragon could take Basil, and the Gray Dragon's master +quietly said yes.</p> + +<p>After Mrs. West had walked with Sir S. in the churchyard of St. +Michael's, he seemed very thoughtful and a little gloomy, even stiff in +his manner with me. At first I felt it must be that she had said +something to change him toward me, but again I told myself that that was +a silly and far-fetched suspicion. It was more likely that he +disapproved of my "larking" with the American boys and giving them a +glove to divide in bits. Afterward, too, when they turned up at our +hotel, he might easily have thought I'd encouraged them to follow us +again.</p> + +<p>I hoped for a chance to put that idea out of his mind, but next morning, +starting for Melrose, Vedder had the place next Sir S., and Basil, Mrs. +James, and I were all three together behind.</p> + +<p>We started before Aline West and her friends the Vannecks (her special +one is a widower, very rich, who has proposed several times, she told +Mrs. James); but the four boys waited for us to get off again, so they +might know where we were going; and I began to be almost angry, because +of the wrong impression their nonsense was making on Sir S. It had been +so good to get him back yesterday that it was worse than ever so see him +slipping quietly away once more.</p> + +<p>If it hadn't been for these worries, it would have been a wonderful day.</p> + +<p>From Dumfries we ran up and down nice scallopy hills, crossing the Annan +at a place named Beattock, for Moffat, where there are sulphur wells a +girl discovered two hundred years ago, and made the fortune of the town. +Then there was a lovely road along Moffat Water, with a succession of +wild green dells and hillsides cleft with fern-choked ravines. Still we +were in Burns's country, for by Craigie Burn lived Jean Lorimer, to whom +he wrote love-songs; and a little farther on was the scene where "Willie +brewed a peck o' maut." The next bit of beauty was associated with the +Ettrick Shepherd (I can't bear to think of his name being Hogg), for he +wrote a Covenanter story, "Brownie of Bodesbeck," about a mountain we +could see hovering in the distance.</p> + +<p>All Moffatdale looked a haunt for fairies, so no wonder it is cram full +of legends; and if I had been sitting with Sir S. I should have begged +him to stop and let us scramble up a rocky path to the haunt of a pale +spirit disguised as a waterfall. The Gray Mare's Tail is a disguising +name, too, for there is nothing gray about it, but all white as +streaming moonlight; and Sir S. and I together might have stood a good +chance of finding the rainbow key, sparkling on some cushion of +irridescent spray. We missed the chance, however; and who knows if it +will ever come again?</p> + +<p>Basil had bought a volume of Scott's poems for me, to match the Burns's +and he found in "Marmion"—where he knew it existed—a verse about the +torrent:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Issuing forth one foamy wave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wheeling round the Giant's Grave,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">White as a snowy charger's tail<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Drives down the pass of Moffatdale.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>So already we were coming into Scott's country. I remember Birkhill, +because it's the watershed between the Moffat and the Yarrow, and the +word "watershed" goes through my mind with a musical white rush, like a +cataract. It suggests beautiful faraway things. Besides, there's another +reason for remembering. Close by, at Dobbs Linn, the Covenanters used to +hide in the time of the great persecution.</p> + +<p>We swept through some bare, bleak country before coming to the Yarrow, +but the rover brought us back to gentle, cultivated land, with thoughts +of her favourite Wordsworth for Mrs. James; and soon we came to a very +famous place, Tibbie Shiels's Inn. I had never heard of it, but that +doesn't take from its fame! Basil and Mrs. James could both tell me how +Scott, and Christopher North, and De Quincey, and a long list of other +great men, used to meet at the house kept by Mrs. Richardson, "Tibbie," +who outlived all the noble company, and was buried at last in the same +churchyard with the Ettrick Shepherd.</p> + +<p>By and by our road dropped down and down to the shores of lonely St. +Mary's Loch (Scott wrote of it in "Marmion"), and at the end of the +still lake to Dryhope Tower, where brave Mary Scott, his ancestress, +"The Flower of Yarrow," had her birthplace.</p> + +<p>So we went on to Selkirk on its hill overlooking Ettrick Water, and +stopped just long enough to buy some of the celebrated "bannocks" for +our picnic luncheon later on, and to have a glance at the statues of Sir +Walter Scott and Mungo Park, the African traveller. Basil pretended to +be shocked because I had never heard of him! "And you had never heard of +Aline and me till you met us," he sighed, shaking his head. "I suppose +you never heard of the sutors of Selkirk, either? The burly sutors who +'firmly stood' at Flodden when other 'pow'rful clans gave way'? Well, +I'm glad, anyhow, that we aren't the <i>only</i> people you'd never heard +of!"</p> + +<p>Basil seemed very happy, and kind, and <i>understanding</i>, somehow, as if +he saw that something was not quite right with me, and he wanted to +console me as well as he could.</p> + +<p>Sir S. had managed very clearly about not letting us stop to look at the +town of Burns's death until we'd seen the place of his birth and traced +out the path of his life-story; but he couldn't contrive the same kind +of trip for Sir Walter Scott's country without going over the whole road +twice. Besides, he wanted us to see Melrose by moonlight, and said it +would be "incomparably better than Sweetheart Abbey." But I knew it +wouldn't be better for me, and I didn't quite forgive him for thinking +it possible, now that we had got so mixed up with irrelevant people.</p> + +<p>We had to go to Jedburgh first, the place farthest south; then to +Dryburgh; then flashing through Melrose to Abbotsford, where Scott died +as well as lived; and then back to Melrose for the night. That was his +plan; and I still supposed that we were to go on somewhere else next +day—Sunday—not arriving in Edinburgh till Monday. But it seems that +Sir S. had made up his mind to a different programme, though he said +nothing about it then.</p> + +<p>Things happened to the boys' car on the way to Jedburgh, though the road +was good, and only undulating. Basil said that, as a matter of fact, he +had "ill-wished" them and their auto, and as "thoughts are things," he +had created the nail on which their tire came to grief. "Somerled and I +want to be the only ones," he added mysteriously. "We'll have no +interlopers." Which would have made me think him rather a frivolous +person, after all, if he hadn't been so well up in the lore of the road, +and known so many interesting things about Jedburgh, the county town of +Roxburghshire.</p> + +<p>"If we curse a mere nail on a white velvet road-surface nowadays," said +he, "think what the roads must have been like when Jedburgh had a royal +castle, and kings and queens were travelling about from one of their +houses to another! Think what Queen Mary must have had to endure, even +bringing things down to modern times, comparatively. She stayed in +Jedburgh town, in an old house in Queen Street—came for assizes, I +think. Then, while she was there, bored to death, she heard that +Bothwell was 'sick of a wound' at Hermitage Castle, over twenty miles +distant. In an hour she was on her palfrey and off to see him, falling +into a morass on the way. But she got back again that night, rather than +her good subjects should say she neglected their affairs. She fell ill +with fever after her exertions. What wouldn't she have given for a +motor-car? But how she would have been bumped and bruised if she'd had +one, though the roads were grand then compared to the state they'd +fallen into after the Romans marched out of Scotland. Imagine the early +kings and queens with their processions passing where we pass now; and +armies returning from battle with their prisoners; and bands of pilgrims +going to some sacred shrine; and robber hordes moving at night; and +wild-beast shows on the way from one fair to another. Can't you see the +panorama?"</p> + +<p>I could, easily, picture after picture. But when you come to think of +it, he'd mentioned nothing as curious as motors, which we take quietly +for granted, just as our forefathers took the wild beasts and the +robbers.</p> + +<p>We had a glimpse of Burns's "Eden scenes on crystal Jed," though only +enough to be aggravating, for Basil said there were prehistoric caves, +and scenery enough to make a journey to Scotland worth while, if one +came for nothing else. But people in motor-cars never seem to turn aside +for anything. They go toward their destination like creatures possessed. +So, although Jedburgh is supposed to be the most historic town of the +Lowlands, we hardly looked at it in our haste to see the Abbey, and to +rush on to other Abbeys—a dayful of Abbeys! Not that Jedburgh put +itself out to attract us. It had rather a grim air as a town, as if it +hadn't quite forgotten the fierce slogan of the Jedburgh men, who +shouted "Jethart's here!" as they wielded the terrible Jethart axes +invented by themselves. And one isn't allowed to go inside Queen Mary's +house to see the tapestry her ladies worked.</p> + +<p>I wished to think no abbey so beautiful as Sweetheart Abbey, which was +my first, and seen on the first night of the heather moon; but I had to +tell myself that Jedburgh was lovelier, in its garden on the river-bank. +Dreaming of its own reflection, its hollow, window-eyes could see, deep +down under a glass, all its own history and legends preserved forever as +in a crystal casket; the story of saintly King David who built it, and +of the French friars who left their own Abbey at Beauvais to people it; +better still, of the wedding with the spectre guest—the marriage of +little French Jolette to Alexander, the last of the Celtic kings. +Perhaps, too, the window-eyes peering into the crystal could see the +figure of Sir Walter Scott, seeking and finding inspiration in the +Abbey's old tales.</p> + +<p>Basil, who told me the stories, read in a book that "Jedburgh is +completer than Kelso or Dryburgh, and simpler and more harmonious than +Melrose," so when the four boys appeared at last in Dryburgh Abbey, +having calmly missed out Jedburgh and Kelso to save time, I used the +criticism as if it were original, with great effect; for by that time +<i>we</i> had made a side dash to see lovely Kelso, where Sir Walter went to +the Grammar School, and met Ballantyne, who long afterward published his +novels and brought about his bankruptcy. I heard also, read out from the +same book, that the stone of Dryburgh was taken from the quarry that +built Melrose, and that the name Dryburgh meant "Druid." Even the boys, +I think, could hardly help feeling the mysterious, haunting charm of the +place, which was as strange and secret as if the dark yew trees and +Lebanon cedars guarding the ruins were enchanted Druid priests. There +was a Druid urn, too, which looked as if it knew all the secrets of the +ages, and had held sacrificial blood.</p> + +<p>I could imagine Sir Walter Scott coming to Dryburgh again and again, and +loving the hidden spot so well that he wanted to sleep his last sleep +there. Such a peaceful sleep it must be with the Tweed singing out of +sight, and yews old as legend to play lullabies upon their own +harp-strings when the wind touches their dark, rustling sleeves.</p> + +<p>The song of the Tweed at Abbotsford was the song of Inspiration, +changing to the song of Fulfilment in the master's passing hour. Now, at +Dryburgh, the river veils itself like a mourner, and its song is the +Sleep Music which has in it the secret of death and of life beyond. I +stood for a minute alone in front of the tomb where Sir Walter's body +lies with those he loved best, in the place he loved best, and +transparent green shadows like the spirits of shadow hid me from the +sunlight. While I shut my eyes, I could understand the message of the +song. And I knew that if my knight had been with me it would have come +to him in the same way, because we are both of the land where the old, +old secrets of wind and waves and rock are in the blood of the people, +and sung by their bards. It is perhaps the mysterious kinship of far-off +ancestry which draws me to him, and tells me that we two belong +together—that others stand outside as strangers.</p> + +<p>Just then I felt that it would have been worth the bother of being born +only for the sake of that minute, if I had no other minutes worth +living; and it seemed that some knowledge was coming back to me which +souls forget as bodies grow up to manhood or womanhood. But suddenly +Basil's voice broke the Music. "You look as if you were conjuring up the +White Lady of Avenel, who will come to any one who knows how to call +her, here at Dryburgh," he said. And I opened my eyes as if he had +jerked me back by the arm from the days of the Druids to the era of +motor-cars. And so he had—by the ear, not the arm. If Sir S. had spoken +to me then it would have been different. I begin to think he is going to +be the only Real Man in my world. But if I find that out, and he doesn't +think me the only Real Girl, what will become of me?</p> + +<p>After we had done what Mrs. West, in her pretty little tinkling voice, +called "exhausting Dryburgh" (as if one could!) we went to Melrose, only +four miles away, to leave our luggage at a nice hotel and take rooms for +the night, before going on another mile and a half to Abbotsford. I +little thought what a surprise I should have by and by, owing to this +plan of action mapped out by Sir S.</p> + +<p>The next thing that happened to us was seeing the many turreted house +built by the "Wizard of the North," when his wish was to found a great +Border family. He didn't realize then that he was founding a great +school of romance and that all the world would be his family in mind and +heart.</p> + +<p>A book Basil had, said that the house was "ill-placed," but to me that +seemed a dull and unimaginative criticism. Nowadays people may think a +great deal about wide views from their windows; and if I ever build a +house with a fairy wand, that's what I shall choose to have myself. But +perhaps in Sir Walter's day the thing most sought for was a peaceful, +sheltered outlook all to yourself and your family, like a secret garden +of which only you had the key. Just such an outlook the Wizard had from +his windows; and of course what he most wished for was to bring the +singing Tweed into his secret garden, just as you coax a lovely wild +bird, if you can whistle its own notes, under the trees it loves.</p> + +<p>Perhaps if Sir Walter had not been able to look out over his flowers and +hay-scented meadows to the friendly river, inspiration might have failed +him in his troubles. But, you see, he had that secret garden of his +soul; and when he was there it must have walled him into a region of +peace where worries could do no more than knock at the door.</p> + +<p>Wandering over the big house with Mrs. James and Basil (the boys in the +background), I was glad, glad that Sir Walter had owned so many +treasures, and collected so many curiosities; yet I felt an undertone of +sadness even in the library (where the twenty thousand books are, given +back by those decent bodies, his creditors), a sadness like that which +must have pressed on his spirit, thinking of all the money he had paid +for his home, and the beautiful things in it—all the money he would +have to make out of his brain to clear away the debt. "When I do build +my house, I shall have a gallery like this in the library," I said, +thinking Basil was close behind me, as he had been; but instead, there +was Sir S. standing silently by. Basil had gone into the study, or +perhaps into the tiny "Speak a bit," to look at the wall-panelling taken +from Queen Mary's bed at Jedburgh.</p> + +<p>"That's just what I was thinking about my library," Sir S. answered, as +if I had spoken to him.</p> + +<p>"Haven't you got one yet?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Only an embryo library in a flat in New York—a rather nice flat. But a +flat isn't home. And you know—you ought to know—the house of my heart +is on a faraway island."</p> + +<p>"The island of Dhrum?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. I've just begun to realize that I never have had and never can +have a real home out of the Highlands. Would you think me an +interloper—you and the other grand MacDonalds—if I, the crofter's boy, +should develop an ambition like Sir Walter's—oh, not so worthy or +splendid, because <i>I'm</i> neither worthy nor splendid—if I should wish to +have the great house of the MacDonalds of Dhrum, not let to me for a +term of years as it is now, but bought and paid for as my own?"</p> + +<p>"Can the MacDonalds sell?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and will, if I'll pay his price. You see, he has no son, only a +daughter; and she, having failed to bring off a match or two——"</p> + +<p>(I didn't let my eyes twinkle, or my face do that weird thing, "break +into a smile"; but Jack Morrison told me that Miss MacDonald had "set +her cap at the great Somerled," and torn it off and stamped on it in +rage because—this is Jack's slang—Sir S. "wasn't taking any.")</p> + +<p>—"Having failed to bring off a match or two, has settled down into +old-maidhood. She's an enthusiastic suffragette, and hates living out of +London. The Mac of D. considers his club his castle, or a good deal +better; and as he's the last of the line—not a male heir, no matter how +distant—he can do as he likes with his ancestral stronghold. You know, +I suppose, your father was born at Dunelin Castle?'</p> + +<p>"Yes," I said. "I wish I'd been born there, instead of at Hillard +House."</p> + +<p>"So do I wish it. If you had been, I should have no hesitation +in—er—in building the gallery round the library wall."</p> + +<p>"You think you really will decide to buy the castle?" I asked +breathlessly.</p> + +<p>"Sometimes I think so. At other times I think, <i>Qui bono?</i> I say to +myself that I shall never have a home, or an incentive for settling +down. But come along and look at Sir Walter's treasures before any one +else appears."</p> + +<p>"Where's Mrs. West?" I asked involuntarily.</p> + +<p>"She's annexed your bodyguard for the moment—do you mind?—appealed to +their innate love of horrors by showing them the picture of Queen Mary's +head, painted an hour after her death by a brother of Margaret Cawood, +her attendant. Suddenly I felt that, if Basil could spare you to me for +ten minutes, I should like to be the one to show you a few things—the +things I loved best when I came from Edinburgh to Abbotsford with a bit +of the first money I ever earned by my brush."</p> + +<p>I turned on him, opening my eyes wide. "Basil spare me!" I echoed +scornfully. "I'm not his princess, even if you don't want me for yours."</p> + +<p>"I do want you. But——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, here he comes!" I whispered, shrill as a cricket. "Take me to see +<i>your</i> things, quickly."</p> + +<p>So we ran away from Basil, and I had one of the happiest hours I have +ever lived through; although the sight of Sir Walter's neat clothes in +the glass case—the thick-soled boots, the broad-brimmed hat that +covered his thoughts, the coat that covered his heart—brought tears to +my eyes.</p> + +<p>Next best, I liked the bit of Queen Mary's dress, the pocket-book worked +by Flora MacDonald, Prince Charlie's "Quaich"—the cup with the glass +bottom to guard the drinker against surprises—the ivory miniatures Sir +Walter and his French bride exchanged, and the Rob Roy relics. Perhaps +it is odd, but they were the very things Sir S. had remembered most +affectionately. Last of all he showed me a toadstone amulet set in +silver, a charm to prevent and ward off the spells of fairies. "If I +could have had a thing like this to carry about with me in my +motor-car," he said, "I should perhaps have been safe. But it's too late +now."</p> + +<p>He smiled at me with that whimsical yet kind smile which is the only +sort he ever gives me since Mrs. West and Basil and the boys came. +Before their day, there was a different look in his eyes. I can't tell +what that difference was, but I liked the old look a thousand times +better than the new, which makes me feel I may as well go into a +convent. Not that I intend to do so!</p> + +<p>Just then Basil came to say that his sister and the Vannecks were going, +as Aline was tired; and would Sir S. tell her what time we were to see +the Abbey. Basil and I were left together—quite as usual, lately. He +made some rather nice poetical remarks about the house at Abbotsford: +how marvellously it expressed the personality and tendency of Sir +Walter's mind; and how it seemed to him that here was the true heart of +Scotland embalmed in spices and laid in a shrine, just as Robert Bruce's +heart lies at Melrose. I hardly listened, though, for I was wondering so +much what Sir S. would have gone on to say about the amulet if Basil had +let us alone a minute longer. But fairy fancies were in the air, in one +form or other. As we walked up the narrow path which would bring us to +the motor, Basil told me a dream he'd had the night before. "I thought," +he said, "that I was a humble reincarnation of Thomas Ecildoune—Thomas +the Rhymer—and that I was walking in the Rhymer's Glen—it isn't far +out of this neighbourhood, you know—when a Vision in a magic motor-car +came sprinting down the steep curve of a rainbow. In front of my feet, +the Vision contrived to stop the car, or in another second it would have +run over me. Out she stepped and announced that she was the Queen of the +Fays, whom I would remember meeting before in my last incarnation, in +the same place. Strange to say, she looked exactly like you—and I must +add, she acted exactly as you do."</p> + +<p>"Why, what was it she did?" I couldn't help wanting to know.</p> + +<p>"She heartlessly vanished, just as I began to hope she might remain and +become my muse. You always vanish—and generally with another man."</p> + +<p>We both laughed, and were laughing still when we came up with Mrs. James +and Mrs. Vanneck, Mrs. West and Sir S., who were ahead of us with the +others.</p> + +<p>It had to be sunset and moonlight together for Melrose Abbey, for the +heather moon was still too young to be allowed by Mother Earth to sit up +late, all alone in the sky. This was not the "pale moonlight" Sir Walter +wrote of, and looked to for inspiration in his "Lay of the Last +Minstrel," but a light of silvered rose which seemed made for love and +joy. I thought, if an alchemist or magician should pour melted gold and +silver together in a rose-coloured glass, and hold it up to the sun, it +would give out a light like this. It might have been an elixir of life, +for it gave back the Abbey's youth, and more than its youthful beauty. +The bullet-shattered stone turned to blocks of pink and golden topaz, +and each carving stood out clear, rimmed with sapphire shadow, as we +wandered round the cruciform Gothic ruin, our feet noiseless on the +faded velvet of the grass. Even in the darkest shadow there lay a ruby +flush, like a glow of fire under a thick film of ash; but inside the +Abbey was a soft, gray gloom, as if evening hid in the ruins waiting its +time to come out. The Trinity window, the Calvary window, the window +with the Crown of Thorns, and the east window in the chancel, which Sir +Walter loved best, were all sketched against the sky in tracery of sepia +and burnt amber, as I heard Sir S. saying to Mrs. West. And though I +shouldn't have known what colours to use, because I'm not an artist, I +could see that the tall stone shafts were like slender-trunked trees +crowned with high clusters of branches, as in pictures of desert palms. +I wondered if the men who carved the stone had travelled in the East and +had seen palm trees rising from pale sand, black against a paler sky. +And I wondered, too, if queer knots and fantastic holes in the gray +trunks of oak had not put into men's minds the first idea of gargoyles.</p> + +<p>Sir S. and Basil, who have been almost everywhere, agreed that they had +seldom seen such marvellous detail of carving, so many whimsically +planned and exquisitely carried out irregularities, or such lovely, +well-preserved sandstone. That quarry which gave the material for +Melrose and Dryburgh was a treasure-mine, and even the Romans knew and +valued it. I was quite glad to find those two-agreeing about something, +because ever since Basil joined us they have differed politely over +nearly every subject that came up.</p> + +<p>We had been deeply occupied with Michael Scott's supposed grave, and the +story of the "dark magic" by which he divided into three, Eildon Hill, +in whose caverns Arthur and his warriors still sleep their enchanted +sleep; and so, when some strangers approached us, we didn't even look +up. A very intelligent custodian, who has written a book about the +Abbey, was showing us round at that moment, and telling things about Sir +Ralph Evers, whom the Douglases killed for revenge, on Ancrum Moor, and +all about the pillar with the "curly green capital." He had saved the +Douglas Heart for the last, as the crowning glory in the history of +Melrose; but when we'd done some sort of justice to everything else, he +marched us into the presbytery where the Heart is buried, and where, +according to his theory, it is commemorated in the carved stone tracery +of the window.</p> + +<p>A man with his back to us turned as we appeared, and I interrupted the +custodian's learned discourse by crying out the name most sacred in the +Abbey. "Mr. Douglas!" I exclaimed; for it was he—the Douglas +soldier-man who was so kind, taking us all round the castle at Carlisle. +He said we might meet at Edinburgh, as he was soon to have leave, and +intended to visit relatives there, but it was a surprise coming on him +in the shrine of his ancestors.</p> + +<p>I thought, of course, his arriving at that minute was an extraordinary +coincidence; but when Sir S. shook hands, and asked in a matter-of-fact +tone, "How is it we meet here?" he confessed, as if half ashamed, that +it wasn't exactly an accident. "You see, I often come to Melrose for a +look round if I'm in Scotland on leave," he said, "and I saw in the +paper yesterday that you were motoring in this neighbourhood, expecting +to call at Dryburgh and Melrose before Edinburgh."</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes—that interview Aline gave a journalist acquaintance of mine at +Dumfries," I heard George Vanneck murmur to Basil, who looked rather +cross.</p> + +<p>"I arrived at the hotel just after you'd been there to leave your +luggage and sign names in the visitors' book," Donald Douglas went on. +"They said you were motoring over to Abbotsford, and would come back to +see the Abbey later; so it occurred to me, if I strolled over about this +time, we might run across each other."</p> + +<p>"Quite so," remarked Sir S.; an expression I detest, it sounds so like +filing iron, especially as he said it then. However, the soldier-man +didn't appear to mind in the least that the Great Somerled was stiff and +unsympathetic. He attached himself to me, as I was his only other real +acquaintance, except Mrs. James, in the party; and of course, as he +reminded me, we were very old friends—as old as the day we first saw +each other in the street at Carlisle, years and years ago.</p> + +<p>He seemed to know as much as the custodian about Melrose and the Douglas +Heart—which was natural, as he so values everything connected with his +family name. He told me all about the good Sir James Douglas: how King +Robert Bruce when dying begged his friend to take his heart to the Holy +Land, and bury it where he had wished to go and fight for Christendom as +an expiation for killing the Red Comyn. It was as good as a chapter out +of a novel to hear how the Douglas got permission from the new king to +be gone seven years on his great adventure; how he heard on his way to +Jerusalem that King Alfonso of Spain was fighting the Saracens at +Granada, and couldn't resist offering his help, being sure that Robert +Bruce would have done the same; how in battle against Osmyn, the Saracen +king, he was hard pressed, and taking the casket with Brace's heart in +it from over his own heart, he threw it far ahead of him in the enemy's +ranks, shouting, "Pass first in fight, as thou wert ever wont. Douglas +will follow thee or die!" And how he did both follow and die, but +falling only when he had killed many Moslems and hewed his way through +their bodies to where the heart lay.</p> + +<p>"That's the old story of the Douglas Heart," said the soldier-man, "and +there's a new story of the Douglas Heart I hope you'll let me tell you +some day before long, because it's even more interesting—to me."</p> + +<p>"Why, then, I expect it will be to me too," said I politely, "so why not +tell it me now, in Melrose Abbey, the place of all places?"</p> + +<p>He looked at me in an odd way, and said, "Yes, it <i>is</i> the place of all +places; but I'm afraid it's a little too early in the day——"</p> + +<p>Just then Basil came up to announce that Mrs. James had sent him to +fetch me, as we must return to the hotel and dress.</p> + +<p>"Too bad!" I exclaimed. But as Sir S. was not far off I called to him, +"Don't you think we may come back here again after dinner?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly, if you like," he answered. "Although the moon will have +gone."</p> + +<p>"That doesn't matter," said I; "there will be stars. Mr. Douglas has a +<i>new</i> story of the Douglas Heart to tell me, which he thinks is even +more interesting than the old, and it ought to be told in the Abbey."</p> + +<p>When I explained this, Donald Douglas turned bright scarlet, and all +three of the Vannecks burst out laughing, which I thought extremely rude +and uncalled for. But Sir S. looked as solemn as a judge.</p> + +<p>"No doubt he's right about it's being more interesting, and quite as +credible," said he.</p> + +<p>I don't know whether Mr. Douglas would have asked Mrs. James and me to +walk over to the Abbey with him after dinner or not, if the weather had +kept fine, but a thunder shower came up and it poured. So, although I +teased him again to tell me the new story, when everybody but Mrs. James +and he and I were playing bridge in our private sitting-room, he +refused. "I'll wait till Edinburgh," he said, "if you'll let me see you +there."</p> + +<p>I had to explain that I didn't know where I should stay in Edinburgh, as +that would depend upon my mother, to whom Mr. Somerled MacDonald was +taking me.</p> + +<p>"And Somerled himself, and the others?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Oh, they're going on," said I, "leaving me behind."</p> + +<p>He looked delighted; so perhaps he had not forgiven the Vannecks for +laughing.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="BOOK_III" id="BOOK_III"></a>BOOK III</h2> + +<h3>BASIL'S PLOT AND "MRS. BAL"</h3> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Ic" id="Ic"></a>I</h2> + + +<p>Will the time come, I wonder, when I can calmly "work up" these things +into a plot? If so, I foresee that I shall have to toss a coin to decide +on the casting of my own part in the story. Heads, I am hero; tails, I +am villain. But it has always been a theory of mine that ninety-nine out +of a hundred novels are unjust toward some of their principal +characters. Each (alleged) villain ought to have his motives and actions +explained from his own point of view, not according to that of the (also +alleged) hero and heroine whom he possibly tries (with success or +failure) to separate. If this were done in books, villains <i>qua</i> +villains would practically cease to exist; for it seems to me, in my +experience of life as a man and a writer, that no normal, healthy +villain is a villain in his own eyes. To understand all is to pardon +all; and in analyzing his motives in order to justify himself to +himself, he sees from every point of vantage, he knows how necessary +certain actions are which appear evil to the limited view of the hero +and heroine. They see him always obliquely, in profile; therefore they +are prejudiced. And what is doubly unfair to the poor villain, the +author of the book sympathizes with the others from first to last; +whereas, if the villain were allowed to explain himself in his own way, +not the author's, he would stand in the centre of the picture. Not being +prejudiced against himself, he would have a chance of appealing to the +readers' sense of justice.</p> + +<p>Unfortunately for me, I have a way of seeing two sides of a question at +once, even when my own interests and those of another are violently +opposed. This is a kind of moral colour-blindness; for to be +colour-blind means merely that your eyes give you an impression of red +and green at the same tune, so that you can with difficulty tell which +is which. Both kinds of colour-blindness, moral and physical, handicap +you for success in life. On the whole, I think the moral sort is the +more inconvenient of the two. If you saw nobody's motives but your own, +you would be able honestly to detest your enemy and work against him. +You would then be happy and successful, because of your complete +self-confidence. It is seeing the enemy's point of view, and +sympathizing in spite of yourself with him, which upsets you.</p> + +<p>That has been my state of mind ever since I was a small and +over-sensitive kid who wouldn't watch a terrier worry a rat because +something made me put myself at once in the rat's place. Wiser boys +called me a milksop and various other names, which I furiously resented +yet inwardly recognized as just. Also they kicked me at times, and +bashed me on the nose. I did my best in wild tempests of rage to kick +and bash them in return, and now and then I gave them back as good or +better than I had from them. But if I saw their blood flow, that same +ridiculous Something which went out to the rat sickened within me, and +was sorry.</p> + +<p>I understand myself rather well, when I'm not in the grip of emotion; +but at present my eyes are blinded. I feel so intensely for myself and +for my sister that I'm not sure whether I act as I do more for her sake +or my own. Probably, however, it is for my own. And, curiously enough, I +dimly see past this brain-storm and heart-storm to some day of calmer +weather when it may still be possible to make use of myself and her, +and—the others, as "material." I don't know if I shall do this, yet it +may happen; and sometimes, even now, these disturbing incidents take +form in my mind as scenes for a future book. I suppose this shows that +the writer in me stands in front of the man. Some day I shall see myself +clearly again one way or the other.</p> + +<p>It was going to be a pleasant little story, this Scotch romance Aline +and I had planned. I knew all the people in it intimately, and was in a +hurry to pick the lock of their prison with my pen, for they were +impatient to get out and begin to live and move. I thought Aline was +almost as much interested, though she never gets into such wild +enthusiasm over a new book that she can hardly wait to write it. She's +too well-balanced, and has too many outside interests, as a very pretty +and popular young woman should have; whereas, since the joy of writing +saved my life, it has always been first with me—until the other day.</p> + +<p>With Aline, the mischief began on shipboard—or perhaps a little before, +though I realized then for the first time what was happening.</p> + +<p>I have great faith in Aline's charm. I've seen several clever and +important men go down before it; but somehow I felt doubtful about +Somerled. If Aline has a lack—I may admit it here—it is temperament. +Possibly I have a touch of what she misses. And until I began to write, +I often wished to be without it. Anyhow, I can see that, sweet and +delightful as she is, a man of temperament might in exalted moments find +a note flat in the music of companionship.</p> + +<p>Somerled has, I should think, spent at least ten years in trying to bury +his temperament under layers of hard common sense. But all the time it +was there, like boiling hot lava under a cold crust; and when Aline told +me how he valued their friendship, I wondered whether she were right, +and just how deeply his admiration of her was rooted in his heart. I +wondered if she were the type of woman he would want, not only for a +friend, but by and by for his wife; and caring for Aline as I do, I +worried about her affairs a good deal, apart from the influence they +were likely to have on the book. Still, I confess I thought as much +about the people in the story I had in mind as I did of my sister—if +not more, at that time.</p> + +<p>Then, the night Aline and I had our big talk about Somerled, the Girl +came. And that was the end of the book for me too.</p> + +<p>If some time I grow callous enough to write her into a romance (she'd +fit into nothing else), I doubt if I could make clear the extraordinary +and instantaneous effect of her on all those she approaches.</p> + +<p>It isn't only her looks, though she's beautiful, as some blithe sprite +met by chance in a forest. It isn't only her youth, for she is too +absurdly young. A girl, to be taken seriously by a grown man, should be +at least one-and-twenty. She is, I believe, on the lilied edge of +eighteen. Ridiculous! Yet where she is, other women, also beautiful and +also young, are dimmed like candles that have burned all night when a +window is flung open in the face of sunrise. Something in her eyes, her +smile, the turn of her head, the light on her lashes and the shadow +under them, the way she catches in her breath when she laughs and looks +at you, the curl of her hair and the colour and fragrance of it, call to +the deeps in a man. I defy any man to resist her completely. I have +watched men in the street as I walked with her, or in hotel dining-rooms +as she came in. Be they old or young, weak or strong, grave or gay, +intelligent or dull, at sight of her the same pagan light of romance +springs into their eyes. Mysterious and irresistible as the lure of the +Pied Piper is the lure of this child who knows nothing of her own power.</p> + +<p>She is a true daughter of Nature, but—she is also the daughter of Mrs. +Bal.</p> + +<p>Can Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald have been such a one when she was +eighteen? No, in spite of the haunting, almost impish likeness, I'm sure +she cannot. But I think Somerled wonders, and that now and then the +relationship and the resemblance creep between him and his instinctive +perception of truth in the girl.</p> + +<p>She came to us with Somerled on the night of our first sight of her, +leading him as Una might have led her lion.</p> + +<p>It was a blow to Aline, a blow over the heart, and I felt it for her on +mine. She managed her affairs badly next day, but I didn't blame her. I +couldn't. Somerled and I had already lost our heads.</p> + +<p>I scarcely believe Somerled was in love with the girl then; perhaps he +isn't even now. He merely felt the call of youth, and a strange beauty +and a stranger vitality. His life needed this call. It waked up the +sleeping youth in his own heart. It set his old enthusiasms singing like +birds uncaged. It made him want to be again all the things he had +decided not to be. It brought back beliefs in realities that he had +feared were illusions. In other words, it freed the temperamental artist +and dreamer from the spoilt and successful millionaire. But he could +have let the bright vision go, perhaps, and have been pleasantly +contented later to remember it, if—it hadn't been for Aline. Because +she wanted to part them and make him forget the girl's existence, she +took the very way to throw them together. Then, when she had done her +worst, she turned to <i>me</i> for help.</p> + +<p>I was horribly sorry for her, and the keen hurt of my sympathy made me +fear for myself. The girl had got hold of me too, of course. When I +found that she was going away from us with Somerled, I felt physically +sick with the sense of loss. It was as if, with Barrie gone, everything +was gone. I knew that poor Aline must be suffering exactly the same dumb +tortures in regard to Somerled, whom she had thought so nearly hers. And +that is why, when she begged me to help—somehow, anyhow—I wasn't sure +whether I promised to please her or myself.</p> + +<p>I was able to do very little toward keeping the promise, either way, +until Edinburgh. It was there, really, that Aline and I first seriously +took up the rôle of villains—if we are villains. But two persons less +well cut out by Nature for such parts can hardly exist. We want to be +good and happy, and we want each other to be happy, and all those whom +we love to be happy; but we want them to be happy with us and through +us. This is where Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald comes into the plot. Without +her, nothing could have happened as it is happening.</p> + +<p>I shall never forget that first scene between the girl and her mother. I +knew it would not be recorded in that poor little "book" of Barrie's, +which every day she was writing and hiding. I thought that the book, +which had no doubt been leading up to this scene, would probably stop +short at the last sentence breathing hope of it.</p> + +<p>Not that I have seen what she wrote. It was I who put the idea of +writing into her head; but, though she didn't guess it, that was only +done to give myself the right of Mentor when I still supposed we should +all start gayly off together for Edinburgh from Carlisle. I suggested +that she and I should "collaborate." Ha, ha! I believe "ha, <i>ha</i>," by +the way, is an ejaculation confined entirely to thwarted villains in +stageland; but if I am a villain, I'm not thwarted yet.</p> + +<p>Aline's attack of temper, which upset everything, upset that scheme +among the rest; but it seems the impulse I gave, pushed Barrie on to +achieve something literary. Only, she steadily refused to let me see a +line she wrote. The sole pleasure I got out of her taking my advice was +in Somerled's face when I teased the girl about her "work." If he had +been teaching her to sketch and paint I should have felt the same.</p> + +<p>He is afraid of himself, because she has captured his thoughts; and +afraid of her, because she's Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald's daughter. When +he sees her followed by a trail of young men, like a bright comet with a +tail it's been busily collecting in a journey through space, he asks +himself whether this is going to be Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald over +again? He wonders if he dare believe in the kindness of Barrie's smiles +for him, or whether his portion is no better than those she deals out +gayly to the rest of us. At least, this is as I judge him, though from +the first we've exchanged no confidences on the subject of "Mrs. Bal" or +Barrie her daughter.</p> + +<p>Somerled knew Mrs. Bal in America. I never made her acquaintance, but I +saw her act in Montreal every night of her engagement there. I couldn't +keep away—yet I didn't want to meet her. I thought perhaps if I did I +should be ass enough to fall in love. That is the truth. A good many +fellows of my acquaintance, and others I'd heard of, had fallen in love, +and had been flirted with till the lady was sick and tired of them. +After that they were very sorry for themselves. I never heard anything +else against Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald, and I don't believe there's +anything worse to hear, than that she's a spoiled, flattered, selfish, +and self-centred beauty, who expects every man to fall down before her, +and generally gets what she expects.</p> + +<p>None of us talked much to Barrie about her mother, though at first she +was continually bringing up the subject. We knew she thought of it +constantly: that beneath all her joy in escape from bondage, in +motoring, and in her adventures in beautiful, historic scenes, there was +always that undertone—"When I meet my mother." And we too felt the +strain of suspense, though in a different way—at least, Somerled and I +felt it. I could see it often in the peculiar darkening of his face when +anything happened to suggest the idea of the mother in the background. +As for Aline, I suppose it was but natural her only interest in Mrs. Bal +should be, "How will her reception of the girl affect me, if at all?"</p> + +<p>Aline's arranging to pick up the Vannecks at Dumfries gave her the +excuse she's been longing for ever since the quarrel, to get me into +Somerled's car, though she didn't wish to seem as if she were forcing +herself upon him. Perhaps he might have found some way of shuffling out +of it, but in St. Michael's churchyard at Dumfries she asked if he +didn't think the "little romance a very pretty one?" He inquired what +she meant. She appeared amused at his denseness—"so like a man!"—and +said, "Why, what could I mean except dear Basil and little Barrie? I +didn't know <i>any one</i> could help seeing! But don't say anything, please. +It might nip the orange-blossoms in the bud."</p> + +<p>She told me this afterward, because I had to know if I were to "live up +to it." And I'm afraid by that time I was ready to live up to it, +whatever the consequences might be. That is enough to explain why +Somerled without hesitation invited me to migrate into his car when +Aline had filled up Blunderbore with a party of three guests. He might +even then have kept Barrie in her place beside him, or have appointed me +to it; but that wouldn't have been Somerled as I see him, saying to +himself, "Let them have each other's society, since that's what they +want. I don't know what <i>I</i> want, or whether it's best for her or me +that I should want anything."</p> + +<p>Right or wrong about his state of mind as I may be whatever it was, he +surrendered to me with an air of grave kindness which put on again the +several years he had thrown off in the last week. (Yes, it was only a +week that had made these changes for all of us!) Sitting with Barrie and +her good friend Mrs. James (great character, that little woman: must use +her in a book sooner or later), I knew just how passionately the girl +was looking forward to the "surprise" meeting with her mother. My nerves +were as tense as hers—even more tense, it may be, for I was like one +behind the scenes, knowing what she did not know. I felt so sure the +"surprise" was going to turn out differently from what she pictured that +I had a sense of guilt whenever I saw her smiling dreamily. I was +continually wondering what would happen, and what she would do when it +did happen. And I had the impression that Somerled constantly brooded +over the same subject, asking himself the same questions. The happier +the girl was, the sorrier we both were for her, silently, without +telling each other, and the more we wished to save her from any +suffering to come. I knew that I could read so far into Somerled's +thoughts, where they kept to the same road as mine; but I doubt if he +were conscious of any fellow-feeling with me. I was to him only the most +deeply infatuated and the most seriously in earnest of Barrie +MacDonald's rapidly accumulating string of ridiculous young men.</p> + +<p>Sympathy and curiosity, tossed together in an indistinguishable mass, +made a confused omelette of my emotions as we spun along that lovely +wooded road past Galashiels and into Edinburgh. I wanted to witness the +first meeting of mother and daughter, yet I dreaded it. I didn't see how +I could decently contrive to be "on" in that scene, yet I felt it would +be too bad to be true that it should be enacted in my absence—almost as +monstrous as that the world should be able to get on with me out of it.</p> + +<p>It was Somerled, of course, who settled that his Gray Dragon (Barrie's +name for the car) should arrive at Edinburgh on Sunday morning instead +of Monday. He didn't trouble himself with intricate explanations, merely +remarking that a Scotch Sunday was a bad day for travellers, apart from +their religious conventions. If they hadn't any, others had; and those +others were the very ones with power to make backsliders uncomfortable. +They could close abbeys and museums, and they could shut the doors of +inns in hungry faces at meal-times. "Besides," he finished, without a +smile, "I took over the job of guardian <i>pro tem</i> from Barrie's +grandmother, and I'm sure Mrs. MacDonald would wish her granddaughter to +go to church on Sunday."</p> + +<p>Barrie opened her eyes at this speech. Probably she'd never heard any +talk of theology from Somerled, and was puzzled by his sudden interest +in her spiritual decorum. I guessed that he wanted to give her the +brilliant spectacle at St. Giles as a surprise on his last day of +guardianship, but it occurred to me also that there might be other +reasons in his mind for cutting short the tour. He might be tired of me +as a guest thrust upon him. He might be sick of the American boys, and +the soldier, Barrie's latest collected specimen (the Douglas youth also +is travelling <i>en automobile</i>), or he might have reflected that it would +be well to find out in advance where Mrs. Bal meant to pass her +Edinburgh week. He must have realized that such a spoiled pet of society +was as likely to visit admiring friends as to put up at a hotel.</p> + +<p>We left Melrose a little before eight o'clock, promising Aline and the +Vannecks (who hate getting up early) to engage rooms for them at the +Caledonian Hotel. We had forty-six miles before us, but the Gray Dragon +bolts a mile as a dog bolts an oyster, and as it was too early for many +other dragons of his kind to be on the march, Somerled did a little +discreet scorching through the lovely green and gold and purple +landscape, past Galashiels, Stow, and Heriot. This haste—which didn't +mean less speed—gave us time for a detour of a few miles to Rosslyn +Chapel, which it would have been a shame to miss.</p> + +<p>I wish I knew more about architecture! I thought Rosslyn a gem, and +should have described it as a thing of unique perfection; but Somerled, +who knows all about such things, said no, it was far from right +artistically, though beautiful in spite of faults. My description would +briefly be: whole chapel like great carved jewel-casket for a queen; +ornamentation simply dazzling in intricacy and delicate detail; +extraordinary pale rose-flush in shadow on stone pillars, which have the +rich cream tints of carved ivory. No two alike: Spanish spirit visible +here. Reminded me of detail in Burgos Cathedral. Nice story about the +Prentice's Pillar. I looked it up when I found we were going to Rosslyn, +and told it to Barrie before Somerled had a chance to open his mouth. +Showed her the sculptured head of presumptuous man who dared finish the +column according to design of his own, while this master was +unsuspectingly studying up ideas for it in Rome. She thought the pillar +more beautiful than the "horrid master's" work, and almost cried to hear +that the prentice had died from the mallet-stroke of the jealous +avenger. Barrie with tears in her eyes is a danger to beholders. She was +particularly adorable just then, as her hair was wet with rain (our +first rain) and curled on her forehead in little tendrils. This rain, by +the way, came on worse later, and was perhaps the original, if indirect, +cause of what might be called our villainhood—Aline's and mine.</p> + +<p>We were pretty well drenched getting from Dragon to Chapel and from +Chapel to Dragon, though the distance was nothing, but the downpour +severe. Then, we three passengers were safely housed in the closed car +while Somerled and Vedder the chauffeur had the full benefit of the +storm. They were protected by a glass screen, but the waterspouts seemed +to find them out, and Mrs. James and Barrie were so sorry for the two +men that I felt a "luxurious slave" to cringe in shelter while others +soaked.</p> + +<p>Vedder, by the way, interests me as a type. I thought Aline and I had +used up nearly all possible types of chauffeurs, but he's a new one, and +may prove valuable in case of future need. I understand that he was +distinguished in his remote past as a prize-fighter, then as a Cockney +coachman in London. Somerled rescued him from something or +other—prison, probably, judging by the shape of his nose (think it must +have been broken and mended in absent-minded moment by amateur) and the +look he gives me occasionally from corner of eye—like vicious horse +cowed by owner and dangerous to strangers. Barrie and Mrs. James think +him such a "quiet, nice man." It is not their business to judge +character, luckily for their illusions. My opinion of Vedder—who looks +exactly like the frog footman in Tenniel's illustrations of "Alice in +Wonderland"—is that he's a smouldering volcano. He never speaks unless +absolutely necessary, then uses as few words as possible, but his +thoughts seethe in language unfit for publication except where his +worshipped master is concerned. He also, in his way, is a victim of +Barrie MacDonald. He has mentally apportioned her to Somerled, as spoil +of battle. His vicious wall-eyes regard with distrust and hatred other +male creatures who dare to contend for the prize. If he could arrange an +accident to the Dragon without injuring it (an idol only second in his +heart to Somerled) or any one under its wing, except me and himself, I +feel sure he would risk his own bones for the sake of cracking mine. As +for my sister, he does not approve of her. In looking Aline-ward, his +face seems to become perfectly flat, like a slab of stone, features +almost disappearing, except his slit of a mouth. "Nice, quiet man! So +contented with his uncomfortable perch at his master's feet!" But—when +the slightest mishap befalls the Dragon, and his services are needed as +doctor or surgeon, he lets bottled-up steam escape. Without a word, he +sets to work like a demon, accomplishing what he has to do in about half +the time our best chauffeurs have taken. I should not be surprised at +any moment to see ears, eyes, and nose emit lambent flames. Chauffeurs +are a strange race, and Vedder is the strangest of the lot.</p> + +<p>Drawing near Edinburgh, and encountering the first tram lines, it was +pretty to watch Barrie's excitement. To understand, one had to remember +that this was by far the biggest town the child had ever seen, so that +even the outskirts impressed her as something stupendous.</p> + +<p>As if for her pleasure, the rain stopped. "The nice, quiet man" +uncovered us pampered passengers, and as we went on again, Edinburgh the +beautiful, lying before us like a shadowy blue and purple map, began to +take shape as a city of spires and monuments and gardens, and reveal its +unique marvels. At this moment, I had my uses. Though it was my first +sight of the Athens of Great Britain, I've fagged it all up so +faithfully for the book that I know what everything is and what most +things mean. I ventured to point out the Salisbury Crags, and Arthur's +Seat watching over the town and Castle like a guardian lion. It was all +very well for Barrie to come to Edinburgh to find her mother, but I +didn't want her to miss realizing that she was entering perhaps the most +beautiful city in the world, and one of the most historic, after Rome. I +knew if I didn't give her this impression Somerled would, and wickedly I +wished her to be primed by me before he got his chance. The only trouble +was that I hadn't enough time to make her see fully all the glorious +contrasts which ought to strike the mind at first sight of Edinburgh, +where Yesterday and To-day gaze at and criticise each other across a +gulf material and imaginary. Even though Somerled brought the Dragon +down to snail's pace, I couldn't do the subject justice, with my best +eloquence snatched at random from notebooks. Mrs. James would keep +interrupting with quotations from "the doctor's" famous unfinished MSS. +I would almost have preferred the silent Vedder as a chaperon. But there +was some comfort in the certainty that Somerled was envying me the place +to which I'd been appointed by himself. As he was driving through +traffic, and couldn't glance round, he was unable to see how Barrie's +eyes wandered from the points I indicated to others which she selected +for herself.</p> + +<p>My dramatic announcement, that where now rises the solid gray mass of +old Edinburgh once crouched the wattled houses of the first inhabitants, +scarcely caught her attention. She would gaze dreamily at Arthur's Seat, +because Mrs. James had just unfolded a meretricious legend to the effect +that King Arthur used to sit there and watch his troops. And the dark +crag of the Castle, with its thousand years of history, its crowning +walls and towers, its chasms of purple shadow, riveted her fancy when I +would have discoursed on the modern charm of Princes Street—that "half +a street" so much more splendid than any whole street ever planned.</p> + +<p>"The doctor told me, I remember," said Mrs. James, "that at the end of +the eighteenth century, when they wanted to build the new Edinburgh, +they had to bribe people by giving them large tracts of land in order to +make them move out of the old town, or they wouldn't budge. Sometimes a +quarter of what they presented to one man in those days is worth a +hundred thousand pounds now."</p> + +<p>In spite of the girl's excited admiration of the goddess-town, her first +question on getting out of the car was to Somerled about her mother. "I +think, if she stops at a hotel, she's likely to choose this one," he +said. "That's why I've brought you here."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," she answered. "Thank you for everything." Then it was my +turn to envy him.</p> + +<p>She was pale, her face drained of colour, and extraordinarily spiritual +as she stood in the big hall, waiting to hear what Somerled would be +told at the desk. He came back soon, and announced that Mrs. Ballantree +MacDonald had engaged a suite at this hotel, but it was not known +whether she would arrive that night or on Monday morning.</p> + +<p>"Meanwhile, I've taken a room for you adjoining Mrs. James, as usual," +Somerled said. "When your mother arrives and you have met, she can make +any new arrangement for you she chooses."</p> + +<p>"And you—will go on—with the others?" asked Barrie, catching her +breath in that engaging way she has when she is excited and trying to +control emotion.</p> + +<p>"I shall go on—sooner or later," replied Somerled. "But—I shall have a +look round Edinburgh first, and see what has happened to my old haunts."</p> + +<p>I thought her face brightened.</p> + +<p>"Aline and I must 'do' Edinburgh too, of course," said I.</p> + +<p>She smiled, but as if she were thinking of something else. And it was +then that suddenly, for the first time, I felt capable of developing +into an able-bodied villain—in fact, committing any crime which could +transfer from him to me the kind of look she had given Somerled.</p> + +<p>"I must of course go back to Carlisle and my work, as soon as I have +paid my respects to Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald," remarked Mrs. James.</p> + +<p>"We'll talk of all that to-morrow," said Somerled, who, I suppose, +engaged her at so much a thousand words—I mean, so much a day—as +chaperon for his "ward." "Whatever happens, you must see Edinburgh while +you're here. And besides, it's on the cards that I may be able to give +you a pleasant little surprise before you leave Scotland. I rather hoped +for details of it to-day; but there's nothing interesting in the mail +they handed me at the desk" (he said this like a native-born American), +"so we must have patience till to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"A surprise!" echoed Mrs. James, looking quite pretty and young, as she +surprisingly does sometimes. "Does Barrie know?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Somerled. "Barrie doesn't know."</p> + +<p>There was just time to go to our new rooms and make ourselves +respectable for church, no light thing in Scotland. Aline and the +Vannecks hadn't turned up yet, but, knowing them and knowing +Blunderbore, I thought nothing strange of the delay. Aline's game was, +of course, to make Somerled jealous of George Vanneck, her old and +well-worn chattel, whom she at heart despises, and to seem not too eager +for his (Somerled's) society, while I, attached to his party by special +arrangement, could protect her interests—and my own.</p> + +<p>Somerled had ordered Vedder to wait with the Dragon when the luggage +had been taken down, and thus we saved ourselves some minutes +which we should have lost in walking. We left the car as soon as +possible, however, and plunged into the beauty and squalor of the High +Street on foot. I annexed Barrie as a companion, and Somerled did not +fight for her. Quietly he contented, or seemed to content, himself +with Mrs. James, and my impression was confirmed that, whether he +wanted Barrie or not, he was deliberately standing aside in my favour, +giving me my "chance"—perhaps to test Barrie or me—or both. Who could +tell? Not I. Somerled is hard to read, even for a professional +character-vivisectionist.</p> + +<p>"Are you too much excited, and taken up with thoughts of your mother, to +care about all this?" I asked the girl.</p> + +<p>She admitted that she was excited, and perhaps a little absent-minded; +but "all this," as I called it, was too wonderful not to capture her +interest in spite of everything.</p> + +<p>"Think of Queen Mary and her four Maries, and Darnley, and Rizzio, and +Bothwell, and John Knox passing along as we pass now, on their way up to +Holyrood?" said I.</p> + +<p>"Yes. Oh, yes! I <i>do</i> think of them," she answered obediently, her eyes +straying into the shadows of wynd or close, or tracing out the detail of +some carved gargoyle on an old façade.</p> + +<p>"Only you think of yourself more——"</p> + +<p>"Not myself exactly. But——"</p> + +<p>"What then?"</p> + +<p>"Well—one thinks of queer things in a place like this, full of romances +and—and love stories. I was wondering——"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Don't be afraid to tell me. We're fellow-authors, you +know—brother and sister of the pen."</p> + +<p>"That's it! Brother and sister, aren't we? How nice!"</p> + +<p>"Of the pen," I amended hastily.</p> + +<p>"Story writers must know all about love," she hesitated.</p> + +<p>"We do," I encouraged her to go on.</p> + +<p>"Then how, if you were writing a story (I'm thinking I may want to do +one), would you make a girl sure whether she'd fallen in love with +somebody?"</p> + +<p>"I should make her," I answered cautiously, with an earthquake in my +heart, "I should make her feel—er—a sort of electric thrill when he +touched her, or looked into her eyes. I should make her feel that +nothing was worth doing unless the man was with her."</p> + +<p>"I know!" the girl murmured. "She would feel, wouldn't she, as if he +<i>must</i> be there—as if she just couldn't go on living if he weren't."</p> + +<p>"That's it," I said. "You've described it graphically."</p> + +<p>She regarded me with sudden suspicion. "Thank you very much," she +replied primly. "I'll take your advice and have it like that in my +story, if I ever write it. What a <i>wonderful</i> old street this is! It's +full of ghosts of kings and queens, and noblemen and great ladies, and +soldiers and robbers, every one of them more important than the people +we see."</p> + +<p>I couldn't tempt her back to the dangerous subject and soon I prudently +ceased to try. But she had given me what I've heard described as a +"nasty jar." Barrie MacDonald wouldn't have appealed to Basil Norman for +a definition of love if she'd thought of him as a man and not a brother! +The side of me nearest my heart hated Somerled, marching on ahead, +looking singularly attractive and gallant, much too interesting for a +mere millionaire. And the side of me which has telephonic communication +with my brain liked and approved of him, understanding how and why his +personality made a strong appeal to most women. "You've had pretty well +everything you've asked life to give you so far," I said to his back, +"but this girl isn't your kind of girl. It's my sister you ought to +want."</p> + +<p>Suddenly, as we drew near to the crowned church of St. Giles—the old +High Kirk—there came to our ears the skirling of pipes. Barrie started +and stopped. Somerled glanced round quickly, his eyes keen. Would she +prove her Highland blood? Would her heart beat for the pipes? That was +the question in his look.</p> + +<p>The girl was taken by surprise. We others knew what we had come for, and +what to expect. She had no idea, except that she was being conducted +decently to church.</p> + +<p>At the first wail of the pipes the blood of her ancestors sprang to her +face. She clasped her hands together, listening in silence to the +barbaric music, her lips apart, her eyes aglow. And all this for the +call of the pipes! Not yet had she caught her first glimpse of the +pipers; but an instant later the tall figures came swinging proudly into +sight, plaids swaying like tartan tassels, kilts moving with that +wave-about-to-break rhythm given to their garments only by inspired +pipers.</p> + +<p>Even I felt a thrill as if each nerve in my body were a string drawn +suddenly taut, but I was gloomily conscious that the Celtic souls of +Somerled and Barrie felt more than I was capable of feeling, a +mysterious something which drew the two together at this instant. +Physically, I stood between them, but I knew that my body was no +obstacle to the lightning flash between their spirits.</p> + +<p>Not a word said one of us as the goodly company of soldiers swept by in +a rich-coloured cloud of their own music. But when all had disappeared +into the church, Somerled and Barrie looked at each other. His eyes +praised her for a braw and bonnie lassie who had responded in fine style +to her first-heard pipes, her first-seen kilt; yet his lips had nothing +to say but, "Well, what do you think of them?"</p> + +<p>"Think?" echoed Barrie. "I think it's perfectly unbelievable how any +girl can ever marry a man who isn't a Highlander and has no right to the +kilt!"</p> + +<p>There was one for Somerled and one against me; but it only got my blood +up. Many a girl says a certain thing, and does another when her time +comes.</p> + +<p>"If I were rich," she went on, "I'd live in a castle in the Highlands, +and I'd have it <i>full</i>, simply <i>swarming</i>, with pipers, playing me awake +in the morning and to sleep at night."</p> + +<p>"I should like you to see your own castle of Dunelin at Dhrum. There are +plenty of pipers there. I've kept them all on, meaning them to play for +me some day," said Somerled, who had just then forgotten, I think, the +existence of myself and Mrs. James, and failed to observe that in the +distance all Miss Barribel MacDonald's missing young men were +assembling, as if to the call of the blood—the soldier from Carlisle, +who had collected a friend, and the American contingent of four.</p> + +<p>"My own castle?" Barrie repeated.</p> + +<p>"You know what I mean. It would be yours if you'd been a boy. As you +aren't——"</p> + +<p>"It's yours!" laughed she.</p> + +<p>"Not by right of blood. Only by right of money."</p> + +<p>"Well, that's the sovereign right," she insisted, pleased with her own +pun.</p> + +<p>Then the victims of our miniature Circe arrived in the foreground, shook +hands, bandied jokes, and became the most prominent figures in the +picture. For the first time I was glad to see them, nor did I bear the +youths ill-will for separating me from our beneficent enchantress in the +stately church with historic banners. They had separated her from +Somerled as well.</p> + +<p>After service was over, we stopped only for a look at the stones which +mark in the pavement the old Heart of Midlothian, and then hurried back +to the hotel, escaping the Americans, but clung to by Douglas and his +cousin, another Douglas, who hospitably bade us all to visit him at all +his houses. He mentioned several, dotted about in various parts of the +country; but when he heard that Miss MacDonald was retiring from the +party in a day or two, he ceased to press the general invitation.</p> + +<p>There was news of Mrs. Bal at the Caledonian. A maid had arrived who +thought that her mistress would not follow until the evening: Somerled +asked Barrie, therefore—rather wistfully, I thought—if she would care +to go out again in the afternoon. "It will make the time pass for you," +he added. I sympathized with him against my will. It was to be his last +day of "guardianship," yet he was generous enough to invite me; and not +only that, but to let me sit in the car with Barrie and Mrs. James, on +the way to Arthur's Seat. After this effort, however, human nature had +its way, and he kept her to himself for the rest of the afternoon. It +was the first time he had done this since I fastened myself upon the +party. To-day, it was evidently by deliberate intention, not accident. +It was as if he said to himself, "These last hours shall be mine." And I +wondered if indeed he actually meant them to be last hours. For my part, +I certainly meant nothing of the sort. Mrs. Bal, or no Mrs. Bal, Aline +or no Aline, Book or no Book, I didn't intend to walk out of Barrie's +life without trying to win a foothold in it for the future.</p> + +<p>If I had an opinion on such matters, I should have said, up to a week +ago, that I didn't approve of marriage for a girl under twenty, as she +couldn't possibly know her own mind; but Barrie is the kind of exception +to prove any rule. She ought to have a man to take care of her.</p> + +<p>Before five we started back, for Mrs. James thought Barrie needed a nap. +It appeared that she hadn't slept the night before, owing to the +excitement of suspense; and now "her eyes must be bright for their first +look at her mother."</p> + +<p>Drawn up at the pavement in front of the hotel as we slowed down was a +big blue car, and another smaller one close behind, both of the same +make, and evidently belonging to the same people. We had to choose +between waiting for them to disgorge passengers and unload luggage, or +get out at a distance from the entrance. We took the latter course, but +at the hotel door Barrie stopped us. She wore no veil; and though it was +to Somerled, not me, she spoke, I could see that her face was pale, her +eyes dilated.</p> + +<p>"Do you think that can be my mother arriving?" she asked in a low voice.</p> + +<p>He looked back at the lady who, at this instant, was springing from the +blue car to the pavement, her hand in that of a man who offered +unnecessary help. It was a tall figure in a long cloak the colour of a +duck's egg, and it gave the effect of willowy slimness despite the +disguising mantle. A close-fitting toque of greenish grayish blue +covered the small head, and the face was practically invisible behind a +thick veil of the same mystic colour; but as the lady turned her long +throat for a look at the other car, there was a glimpse of banded red +hair under the toque, and a curl or two at the nape of the neck.</p> + +<p>The two women in the smaller car also had red hair. They were not +veiled, and their neat black hats and jackets somehow advertised them +unmistakably as ladies' maids. Neither was pretty, in spite of her +flaming crown of glory; and neither was young.</p> + +<p>The remembrance of an "interview" with Mrs. Bal which I had read in some +paper flashed back to my mind. She had told the reporter that "only +red-haired servants could understand the moods of a red-haired +mistress," and that, after disastrous experiences with "dull creatures +who had no temperament themselves, and couldn't live with any one who +had," she decided to engage only red-haired maids.</p> + +<p>Perhaps Somerled knew of this idiosyncrasy, or else he recognized the +tall form in spite of its wrappings, for he said, "Yes, I think very +likely it is your mother, Barrie. But we can't be sure; and in any case +I strongly advise you not to try and speak to her here in the street."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I won't till she gets her veil off," said Barrie breathlessly, "but +I must wait and see her come into the hall. I——"</p> + +<p>Somerled gently but firmly drew the girl into the hotel. Mrs. James and +I followed. Evidently Somerled wanted to persuade Barrie that it would +be better to keep out of the lady's way as she entered, and meet later, +if indeed this were Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald; but the girl seemed +hardly to hear his murmured arguments. She did yield far enough to let +him lead her a little aside, but she took up her stand again where she +could see the blue figure enter. She did not speak, or insist upon her +own way, yet I think it would have been impossible to move her without +using brute force. Somerled realized that nothing was to be done with +the child for the moment, and accordingly did nothing, except to stand +beside her. Mrs. James and I took our places mechanically on the girl's +other side, though no word passed between us.</p> + +<p>Never had I seen Barrie so beautiful. Though a brilliant colour burned +on her cheeks, she looked curiously spiritual. Her lovely body seemed a +crystal lamp through which shone the light of an eager soul.</p> + +<p>A minute of this silent suspense, and the lady in the blue-gray cloak +came in, followed by the two red-haired maids carrying such valued +possessions as no hotel porter must be allowed to touch: little +handbags, gold monogrammed; a long coat of blue Russian fox; +silk-covered air cushions, and delicately bound books. Behind came +employes of the hotel, bearing rugs and other luggage; but the big man +who had helped the lady from the car did not appear. We had seen his +back only, yet the impression lingered in my mind that he was no +servant, but a gentleman, a personage of worldly as well as physical +magnitude.</p> + +<p>The lady went toward the desk, then paused, and with an imperious and +impatient little gesture directed one of her maids to untie her thick +blue veil. The knot was loosened with a skilful touch, and the face of +Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald was revealed. For a moment or two we saw it +only in profile, as she talked with the people at the desk, and bade the +elder of her two women write in the visitors' book. Then, as she turned +away to go to the lift, we were favoured with the full blaze of her +celebrated beauty.</p> + +<p>It is three years since I saw her last, in America, but she has not +changed, unless to look younger. She might not be a day over +twenty-five, and her figure is as slender, as spirited, and as graceful +as a girl's. She advanced more or less in our direction, though without +seeing us, and her walk was peculiarly attractive—slightly +self-conscious and suggestive of the actress, perhaps, but light as a +smoke wreath. If she makes up off the stage, she is so skilful that she +beats Nature at Nature's own game. Her complexion, with the gray-blue +veil flowing in folds on either side her face, looked pearly, and the +rippling lines of her red hair glittered like new copper. It was +impossible she should not know that every one in the big hall was gazing +at her; but such was her self-control, gained in long experience as a +beauty and popular favourite, that she seemed not to see any one. Hers +was not a morose remoteness, however. That might have offended admirers +and kept money out of the theatre. It was the radiant unawareness of a +passing sunbeam.</p> + +<p>A few more seconds and this charming figure, framed in floating clouds +of chiffon, would have reached the door of the lift, to be wafted out of +sight like a pantomime fairy. But Barrie could no longer be held within +bounds, for the great moment of her life had come. She darted away from +us, her figure as tall, more youthful, more willowy, and more charming +than the other, though singularly like in movement and in outline. The +resemblance between the beautiful woman and the beautiful girl produced +the effect of contrast, and ruthlessly dug a chasm of years between +them. Suddenly, as they stood face to face, Mrs. Bal—who had been young +as morning—reached the rich maturity of summer noon.</p> + +<p>The thing Somerled would have prevented had happened; but the reins were +out of his hands, and it would do more harm than good to snatch at them. +None of us moved, but we were nearer than any one else to the mother and +daughter, near enough to hear every word they said to each other.</p> + +<p>"Oh, mother, it's I—your daughter Barrie, come to find you," the girl +faltered. "You know—Barribel. You named me. I've run away from +Grandma——"</p> + +<p>"My goodness—<i>gracious</i>!" gasped Mrs. Bal, her brown eyes immense. In +her groping bewilderment, her blank amaze, she looked younger again, her +rather full face very round, almost childish, her dimples deepening in +the peachy flush of her cheeks. She stared at Barrie as if the girl were +a doll come alive—an extremely complicated, elaborate, embarrassing +doll, copied from herself and let loose upon the world. And Barrie did +not take her eyes from the beautiful, surprised face for an instant. In +her wistful suspense she scarcely breathed. "Oh, do love me—do be glad +to see me!" her soul implored through its wide-open windows.</p> + +<p>The silence, falling after Mrs. Bal's astonished gasp, lasted but an +instant, though it seemed long to us who waited. To others at a +distance, others who knew nothing of the story, whose sight and hearing +were not morbidly sharpened, the little scene probably meant no more +than a surprise meeting between the well-known actress and a very pretty +girl enough like her to be a sister. But to us who did know the +story—and something of Mrs. Bal—the pause was like the pause in court +while the jury is absent.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bal was thinking, observing, making up her mind. Suddenly she broke +out laughing—a nervous, yet impish laugh, and seized the girl by both +hands. At the same time she bent forward—not down, for Barrie is as +tall as she—kissed the girl on both cheeks, and whispered something.</p> + +<p>It was a brief whisper. She could have said no more than half a dozen +words, but they stupefied Barrie. She threw back her head, almost as if +to avoid a blow. Tears sprang to her eyes, and she pressed her lips +together in a spasmodic effort at self-control. The bright rose-red of +excitement was drained from her face; but she did not draw away from her +mother, who still held the girl's hands. All she did was to turn her +head with a bird-like quickness and fling one glance at Somerled.</p> + +<p>I don't know whether or not she meant it as a call. Probably she didn't +herself know what she meant. Only, she was in need of help, of comfort, +and involuntarily turned to the strongest, most dependable personality +in her small world. I would have given all my faculty as a writer—my +dearest possession—to have been in Somerled's place—to have had her +appealing to me while her air-castle crumbled.</p> + +<p>He went to her at once, and spoke to Mrs. Bal, who had not seen him till +that instant. She blushed slightly at sight of him, I noticed; and I +wondered whether she had flirted, or tried to flirt, in the past with +the artist-millionaire. It was impossible to guess whether she were +pleased or displeased, but evidently his appearance on the scene was +ruffling in one way or another to the lady's emotions. "This is a +surprise!" I heard her say, in a softer, fuller tone than she had had +time to put into her first sharp exclamation at sight of Barrie.</p> + +<p>Then both voices dropped. The two talked together while the girl stood +by in silence, pale and expectant, depending on Somerled. Mrs. Bal said +something which made Somerled laugh—one of his cynical laughs, such as +I hadn't heard from him lately. Not once had he looked at Barrie. All +his attention was for the mother. She asked a question. Answering it, he +indicated Mrs. James and me.</p> + +<p>"Oh, please introduce them!" Mrs. Bal commanded pleasantly.</p> + +<p>This was a signal for us to approach.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Basil Norman," she said. "You are the author, of course. How nice +to meet you! Of course I read your books. And your sister who +collaborates—where is she?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know yet whether she's arrived or not," I explained. "I meant +to ask at the desk——"</p> + +<p>"I want to know her. Please tell her so. And this is Mrs. James. Why, +yes, of course! I remember you—in the days of my captivity." She +laughed a childlike, impish laugh. (Barrie has one rather like it, but +more spontaneous, less effective.) "You haven't changed."</p> + +<p>"Oh, thank you, dear Mrs. MacDonald," exclaimed the little woman, +radiant with pleasure—for I've found out that her two great desires are +to keep her youthful looks, and to be intellectually worthy of the +vanished doctor. "I'm sure <i>you</i> are not in the <i>least</i> altered, though +it must be seventeen years——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, my dear Mrs. James, don't—<i>please</i> don't!" cried Mrs. Bal, +laughing and dimpling, and holding up both gloved hands in mock prayer. +"Don't mention the number of years. This is getting to be simply awful. +Shock after shock!" She laughed again, glancing roguishly at Barrie. "I +want you all to come to my sitting-room—this very minute—to hold a +council of war. It's most necessary. You dear, pretty child"—this +adorably to her daughter—"how much more mischief have you done already? +How many people have you let into the ghastly secret?"</p> + +<p>Barrie hung her head, and looked down. She must have known that +sympathetic eyes were on her, and have wished to avoid them. "There's +only Mrs. West and—and—I suppose her friends the Vannecks—and Mr. +Douglas—a Lieutenant Douglas——"</p> + +<p>"Horror! Their name is legion. What a scrape. Well, I must appeal to +their mercy. Please come up with me, everybody, and we'll talk it over +and see what's to be done. There isn't a moment to lose."</p> + +<p>By this time I began to guess what she was driving at, though the dazed +expression of Mrs. James told me that she was still in the dark.</p> + +<p>We got into the lift and were shot up to the next floor, nothing being +said on the way except a conventional word or two about the motoring +weather. "I came in a friend's car—I'll tell you all about it," Mrs. +Bal added as she led the way to her rooms.</p> + +<p>The two maids had arrived on the scene already. Doors were open; luggage +was being taken in under the direction of the red-haired ones; but in +the large sitting-room there was no sign of confusion. Quantities of +flowers adorned it, in tall glass vases and gilded baskets tied with +ribbons. Signed photographs of royalties and generals and judges, the +latest aviators and successful explorers, all in monogrammed silver +frames, were scattered on mantel and tables and piano-top. There were +plump cushions of old brocade on the several sofas and lounges. The +largest table had a strip of rare Persian embroidery laid across it, and +was graced rather than laden with novels, boxes of sweets, and silver +bonbonnières. Evidently the maid who had come in advance had had her +hands full!</p> + +<p>"I must have pretty things to give me a home feeling. Touring would be +too horrid without that," she laughed. (Mrs. Bal laughs often in private +life; what clever woman with dimples does not?) "Now, sit down, and let +us discuss this desperate situation. But first—come here, Barribel. I +want to look at you."</p> + +<p>Barrie came. Mrs. Bal caught the girl's hands, and held her out at arm's +length.</p> + +<p>"You pretty creature!" she exclaimed. "Oh!" and she threw an appeal to +us. "To think I should be the mother of THAT! Isn't it simply appalling? +But I can't be, you know. I can't be her <i>mother</i>. Now <i>can</i> I? I've +told her already—I had to decide in a flash. I admire her immensely, +and we're going to be fond of each other and the greatest chums. But we +must be <i>sisters</i>."</p> + +<p>Then I knew what she had whispered to make Barrie start and blanch. She +had said, "I won't be your mother." And Barrie had turned involuntarily +to Somerled because she had felt herself unwanted and her heart was +breaking.</p> + +<p>All this was preparing me for a career of villainy, though I must say in +self-defence that it was Aline who lit the match. "The woman tempted me, +and I did eat!"</p> + +<p>"Come and sit by me, lovely doll," said Mrs. Bal, pulling the girl down +beside her on the most cushiony and comfortable sofa. "So you are the +baby! I haven't forgotten you. I've thought of you a <i>lot</i>—really a +lot. But you never seemed <i>mine</i>, you know. <i>They</i> wouldn't let me feel +you belonged to me. They were so good! Of course I had to leave you +for—for them to take care of. They thought they knew everything about +babies. I dare say they were right. I <i>had</i> to escape. I couldn't have +lived with them another day, in that awful house. But I've been oh, <i>so</i> +proper, and good, really. Even they could have hardly been shocked. And +I've hired three red-haired watch-dogs. But it isn't only myself I want +to talk about—it's you. I do think you're the prettiest thing I ever +saw—though I oughtn't to say so, perhaps, because I believe we're +alike. Aren't we, Somerled?"</p> + +<p>"In some ways, not in others," dryly returned the gentleman addressed.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I know the differences are in her favour—Diogenes! All the more +reason why I can't possibly own her for a daughter. My yearly profits +would go down a hundred per cent. And although she's perfectly +<i>darling</i>, and I'm going to love her—as a sister—she couldn't have +come to me at a worse moment."</p> + +<p>"Oh—why?" pleaded Barrie, speaking for the first time.</p> + +<p>"Because—you may as well hear this, all of you, since I've called you +to a council of war. I want you to realize"—and she gave each of us a +look in turn: a lovely, characteristic "Mrs. Bal" look—"that I'm on my +knees to you. I've thrown myself on your mercy. You've got to help me +out. The truth is"—she began taking off her gloves and looking down at +her own hands, her rings sparkling as the pink and white fingers were +bared—"the truth is, I'm a little—a tiny little bit—tired of acting. +I'd like to leave the stage in a blaze of glory while everybody wants me +and there's no one to take my place. There's only one trouble—I'm so +horribly extravagant. I always have been. I'm afraid I always shall be. +I make heaps of money, but I can't save. If I say good-bye to the +theatre, I shall want millions. I don't feel I can rub along on less. So +that means—I shall have to marry somebody else's millions, for I +haven't got the ghost of one of my own."</p> + +<p>As she explained her position she looked deliberately past Somerled and +out at the window. This made me sure that a vague suspicion of mine was +founded on fact. Mrs. Bal had angled for Somerled, and he had been one +of her few failures. She couldn't be pleased at encountering him again +as her daughter's self-appointed guardian and champion. It seemed to me +that the situation complicated itself, to Somerled's disadvantage; +therefore—it might be—to the advantage of the next nearest man, +myself.</p> + +<p>"There is some one," Mrs. Bal went on, with a slight but lessening +constraint, "who—rather likes me, and I rather like him—better than I +can remember liking anybody. He's got lots of money. His name is Morgan +Bennett. Somerled—you know him."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Somerled. "I thought his back looked familiar."</p> + +<p>So the big fellow who helped Mrs. Bal out of the blue car (also big, in +proportion to the size of the owner and his fortune) was Morgan P. +Bennett of New York, the Tin Trust millionaire. Somerled's puny horde of +millions dwindle into humble insignificance beside Morgan Bennett's +pile. If Somerled has made two millions out of his mines and successful +speculations, and a few extra thousands out of his pictures, M. P. +Bennett has made twenty millions out of tin—and unlimited cheek. He is +so big that his pet name in Wall Street used to be "The Little Tin +Soldier."</p> + +<p>"He has been—dangling lately," Mrs. Bal went on. "Oh, nothing settled! +I confess I wish it were. I mean to take him if he asks me, and I think +he will. You wouldn't believe it, but he's a shy man with women. I do +believe he's frightened to propose. He's bought a house in London, in my +favourite square. And now he's taken a shooting-lodge in +Forfarshire—such an amusing place: a huge round house with as many eyes +as in a peacock's tail, all staring cheerfully, and high chimneys +grouped together like bundles of asparagus. I've just been staying there +with his sister, Mrs. Payne, whom I believe he imported from America on +purpose to play gooseberry. You know—or perhaps you don't—I tried my +new play for the first time in Dundee, just one night, and it went +gorgeously. This house of his isn't far off, and I was motored back and +forth for rehearsals and so on, while the company stayed in town. I +simply fell in love with the place; and he's trying to buy it—to please +me, I <i>hope</i>. There's a round porter's lodge and a round garage: and the +round house stands on a round lawn with a round road running round it +like a belt, so that it all seems the centre of a round world with the +sun moving round it. He brought me from there to Edinburgh to-day, and +two of my maids in another car. He won't stop here in the same hotel +with me, of course, but he'll drop in now and then—naturally—and he's +taken his box at the theatre for the whole week. We must arrange this +sister business before he calls. I've confessed to him that I'm +twenty-nine, and it's perfectly true. I've been twenty-nine for several +years. But he'd hardly believe me so old. And what <i>should</i> I do—I ask +you all—if a grown-up—oh, but an extremely grown-up—daughter suddenly +loomed over my horizon? Even if I put back her clock to fifteen instead +of—never mind!—I couldn't manage to be less than thirty-one, and that +with the greatest difficulty. Now you see how I am placed."</p> + +<p>"Shall I go away and—and save you all the bother?" asked Barrie, in a +very small voice.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, no, dear child; nothing of the sort, of course," protested Mrs. +Bal, patting the hands which Barrie held tightly clasped together in her +lap. "You mustn't be naughty and misunderstand. I don't want to lose you +like that, now you've taken all the trouble to find me—with the help of +our good Somerled. But—will you be a sister to me?—as popular men have +to say in Leap Year."</p> + +<p>"I'll do whatever you want me to do," Barrie answered in the same little +voice, like that of a chidden child. "Am I—would you like me to stay +with you here, or——"</p> + +<p>"Why, I suppose"—Mrs. Bal showed that she was startled—"I suppose we +must fix up a place for you—for a few days. But I don't see how you can +go with me on tour. It wouldn't be good for you at all. The best way is +for us to have a nice little visit together, and get acquainted with +each other, and then perhaps I'd better send you to—er—to my flat in +London, or—to boarding-school, or somewhere. I <i>quite</i> understand you +wouldn't go back to your grandmother at any price, would you?"</p> + +<p>"I'd rather do that than be a trouble to you," said Barrie. "Only, I +don't think she'd take me back. But I could try——"</p> + +<p>"Certainly Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald won't hear of your going back to +live in Carlisle, I'm sure," said Somerled, looking somehow formidable +to reckon with as his eyes met Mrs. Bal's. Then, to the girl's mother: +"I am connected with her father's family in a way, you know, and I took +advantage of the connection to make Mrs. MacDonald's acquaintance at +Hillard House, after I'd met—her granddaughter. The arrangement between +us was that I should play guardian <i>pro tem</i>. So if you want any advice +about—Miss MacDonald's future, perhaps you'll be good enough to let me +help you."</p> + +<p>"Thanks, oh, thanks! I accept gratefully," replied Mrs. Bal, who had no +doubt already heard downstairs some few words explaining Barrie's +presence with our party in Scotland. "And you'll tell everybody she's my +sister, won't you?"</p> + +<p>"I'll not say anything to the contrary," he promised grimly.</p> + +<p>"And you, Mr. Norman? You, dear Mrs. James?"</p> + +<p>"I'll protect the secret with my life," said I, laughing. If I were a +woman, I should have been hysterical by this time.</p> + +<p>"I'll keep my mouth shut," replied Mrs. James, with pitying eyes that +said to the girl, "If <i>I</i> were your mother, dear child, young as I like +to look, I'd be <i>proud</i> to own you!"</p> + +<p>"What about your American victims?" I inquired of Barrie.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bal pricked up her ears. "What victims?" she asked before her +daughter had time to speak.</p> + +<p>"Four young men who have prostrated themselves under Miss MacDonald's +chariot," I explained. "All who see her do this." In adding the little +tribute I meant well; but I saw in an instant that I'd been tactless. +Mrs. Bal regarded the girl reflectively; and that uncomfortable faculty +I have for reading people's thoughts told me she was repeating to +herself, "Ah, so all the men who see this child fall in love with her, +do they? H'm!"</p> + +<p>"They—I never talked to them about—about having a—mother," Barrie +stammered.</p> + +<p>"And this Mr. Douglas?" Mrs. Bal asked. "Is he too a 'victim?'"</p> + +<p>"He appears to be something of the sort," I was obliged to answer, as +she appealed to me. "The Douglas Heart, you know! And he has a cousin +with whom he's staying——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, do, dear Mr. Norman, like an angel of mercy 'square' them for me, +will you, and all the others who know?" Mrs. Bal implored, +ostentatiously ignoring Somerled, who had too evidently gone over to the +younger generation. "Your sister, too—and her friends? Will you go and +see if they have come, and if they have, bring them here—or plead my +cause eloquently, or something?"</p> + +<p>"I'll go at once," I agreed, rising. On principle, I disliked and +despised the gorgeous, selfish creature; but there was that in me which +longed to please her, and delighted in being chosen as her defender, +over the head of Somerled, so to speak. I was not sorry to escape from +the scene which Barrie's pale face and o'er-bright eyes made very +trying; also I was really anxious to find out if Aline had come. If she +had not, I should begin to worry about her and the poor old car—to say +nothing of the tribe of Vanneck.</p> + +<p>As I went out, I heard Mrs. Bal exclaim, "Oh, by the way, if she's to be +my sister, she can't be a MacDonald, She'll have to take the name of +Ballantree. It was my maiden name, you know."</p> + +<p>A disagreeable surprise awaited me outside. I learned that, while we'd +been out after luncheon, my sister and the Vannecks had come, but that +Aline had had a mishap. She'd been wearing a motor-mask veil, according +to her custom, in order to protect her complexion. The talc front over +her face had been damaged in the morning's storm, and somehow her eyes +were injured. I should have received the news sooner had I gone to the +desk instead of following Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald upstairs.</p> + +<p>Off I hurried to Aline's room, where I found Mrs. Vanneck with my +sister, and an oculist whom George had hurried out to fetch. The poor +girl was suffering, and a good deal frightened, though we tried to +console her. As she went to the window to be examined by the specialist, +I could see that her face and hair and lilac silk blouse were covered +with a powder of talc, which sparkled like diamond dust. Her eyes and +lids were full of the stuff, it proved, and she cried with nervousness +and pain as the oculist proceeded to get it all out.</p> + +<p>It was impossible to speak to her of Barrie and Mrs. Ballantree +MacDonald, but I told Maud Vanneck, who, though mildly horrified, +promised for herself and her brothers that the secret should not be +revealed.</p> + +<p>When I returned to Mrs. Bal's sitting-room, I found Somerled and Mrs. +James gone. Barrie was alone with her newly found—sister, and a more +forlorn little figure than our young goddess it would be hard to +imagine. Andromeda chained to her rock could not have looked more +dismally deserted by her friends. A room had been taken for her, and she +was now transformed into Miss Barribel Ballantree. "What a good thing I +wouldn't let her be called Barbara after me," said Mrs. Bal. "We should +have had to change her whole name, and that would have been <i>really</i> +awkward!"</p> + +<p>I should have retired at once, when my errand was done, but Mrs. Bal +would not let me go. I think, for one thing, she wasn't at ease with +Barrie alone; and for another, she wanted to see if I too were a victim +of this young person who might perhaps turn out a formidable rival as +well as an inconvenient daughter. Barrie evidently wished me to stay; +and I made no effort to conceal my real feeling for the girl from either +of them. I thought that now was the time to let myself go. Barrie was +inwardly yearning for comfort and love, and I opened the door of my +heart for her to see that it and all within were hers. I was on the +spot, and Somerled wasn't; so I hoped that Barrie might be thankful even +for her "brother of the pen." Mrs. Bal's bright, observant eyes saw and +understood.</p> + +<p>Presently she announced that she was rather tired, and would lie down, +as there would be rehearsing to-morrow in the theatre; and though she'd +opened in Dundee, she would be almost as nervous in Edinburgh as on a +first night. Her maid was rung for. The eldest and reddest one came. +Barrie and I went out together, I longing for a few words in the +corridor, or at least a friendly pressure of the hand. But I saw that +she was in no condition to be spoken to. The reaction was coming on, and +I let her go at once. She almost ran down the passage to a room not far +away, and slammed the door.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Neither Mrs. Bal nor Barrie appeared again that evening. Presumably they +had dinner together in Mrs. Bal's quarters; and the heather moon shone +as through a glass darkly for the rest of us. Aline was ordered to keep +her room for the next few days, which settled our plans—or hers, at all +events. And we were a party of men dining that night, the two Vannecks +and Somerled and I, for Mrs. James "had a headache," and Maud kept Aline +company.</p> + +<p>The great Somerled was reflective if not morose. I wondered what his +schemes were concerning Barrie, for I imagined uneasily that he was +working with some idea; and if I didn't mean to sit still and let him +cage the dove while it fluttered homeless and forlorn, I must come out +of my corner into the open to fight for it.</p> + +<p>After dinner Aline sent for me, and her message included Somerled, if he +could "spare her a few minutes." He could and did with a good grace. We +went together to the small sitting-room, which looked dull compared with +Mrs. Bal's decorated background, though George Vanneck and I had done +our best, on an Edinburgh Sunday, in the way of roses. Somerled had +forgotten to incarnate his sympathy in flower form, and I read remorse +in his eyes as they fell upon Aline, piteous and prostrate.</p> + +<p>Electric light was not permitted, and the room was lit only by a few +green-shaded candles which made the invalid ethereally pale. She +reclined on a sofa and wore her best tea-gown, or whatever women call +those loose classic-looking robes nowadays. It was white, and becoming. +She had built up a wall of cushions, against which she leaned, and her +hair was done in two long plaits under a fetching lace cap which gave +her a Marie Antoinette effect. This hair-arrangement interested me +scientifically, because when I breakfast with Aline in our private +sitting-room at a hotel, she often has her hair hanging down, and it has +never looked so long nor so thick as it did on this occasion. She must +have had some clever way of plumping it out. Her eyes being tender and +inflamed had temporarily lost their beauty, so she had tied over them a +folded lace handkerchief or small scarf.</p> + +<p>"You look like a model for a classic figure of Justice," said +Somerled—"all but your smart Paris cap."</p> + +<p>"Why, was Justice blind? I thought that was Love," said Maud Vanneck, +gayly airing her ignorance. I couldn't help thinking—nor could +Somerled, I'm sure—that Aline looked more like Love-in-a-mist than +stern Justice; but I feared that he had definitely ceased to regard her +from the love point of view, if ever he'd inclined to it.</p> + +<p>Aline, who had heard nothing yet about Mrs. Bal, was anxious for the +story. I saw that Somerled desired me to speak, but I threw the +responsibility on him. I wanted to know how he would tell the story; but +I might have guessed that he would be as laconic, as non-committal as +possible, and that, much as he might yearn to do so, he would not +criticise Barrie's mother.</p> + +<p>"I think she admired her daughter," he said quietly, "but being what she +is, and looking no more than twenty-five, what can one expect? Of course +the sister fraud will be found out sooner or later; but the important +thing in Mrs. Bal's mind seems to be that it shall be later."</p> + +<p>"Is it right for us to help her deceive poor Mr. Bennett?" asked Maud +Vanneck, who is a person of earnest convictions.</p> + +<p>I chuckled at hearing the big chap called "poor," perhaps for the first +time in his life; and even Somerled smiled.</p> + +<p>"None of us are pledging ourselves to lie for the lady," said he. "We +simply hold our tongues. If Bennett asks Mrs. Bal to be his wife, he's +not the sharp man of affairs he's supposed to be if he expects to find +her a mirror of truth. When he discovers that she has a grown-up +daughter he'll shrug his shoulders, and perhaps never even let her know +she's been found out. I'm not very well acquainted with Bennett, but +I've met him a few times, and his most agreeable social quality seems to +me his strong, rather rough sense of humour. I expect he'll see the +funny side of being hoodwinked by Mrs. Bal. And a few years more or less +on her age—what do they matter to him? He's forty-five; and on the +whole he couldn't get a wife to suit him better."</p> + +<p>"I have a sneaking sympathy with Mrs. Bal," confessed Aline, in her +gentlest voice. "She's conquered all of you men, and has no further fear +of you; but I feel that she's trembling in her shoes because of Maud and +me. I should love to reassure her and let her know that we're not cats."</p> + +<p>"Shall I take her a message?" I suggested, trying not to seem too eager. +"I'm sure she'd like to get it."</p> + +<p>Aline smiled indulgently. "Poor boy, doesn't he want me to say 'yes?' +It's too late this evening, I'm afraid; but call on her and Barrie early +to-morrow morning, and ask if she'd care to drop in on the poor invalid, +on her way to rehearsal. I'd better see Mrs. Bal alone. She may want to +say things she wouldn't wish Barrie to hear—don't you think so, Mr. +Somerled? And, by the way, now your little ward is—more or less—safe +in other hands, have you settled your future plans?"</p> + +<p>"I expect to have something mapped out to-morrow," Somerled answered.</p> + +<p>"You'll go on with your trip—your rest cure—I suppose, as you meant to +when we—that is, before you were saddled with all this responsibility?"</p> + +<p>"I've been looking forward to Edinburgh, from the first," said he, +evasively.</p> + +<p>Aline saw that she would get no more satisfaction, and ceased to risk +irritating him; but after her guests had bidden her good-night, she kept +me for a talk.</p> + +<p>Of course she made me describe the scene between Barrie and her mother, +but she was more interested to know how Somerled had looked, what he had +said and done, than in my opinion of Mrs. Bal.</p> + +<p>"What do <i>you</i> think he means to do?" she appealed to me, desperately. +"Do you think he's so infatuated with Barrie that he'll offer to take +the girl off her mother's hands and marry her?"</p> + +<p>"I've been studying Somerled for both our sakes," I said. "What I think +is, he's been telling himself the girl is too young and all that, and +ought to have a chance to meet a lot of other men. Yet he's seen how she +unconsciously attracts every male creature who comes along, and that +it's a danger for her if——"</p> + +<p>"<i>Unconsciously</i> attracts! But I forgot, you're infatuated too. And she +<i>doesn't</i> attract everybody. George Vanneck hardly considers her pretty. +He can't bear this rising generation of long-legged young colts, he +says; and he calls her hair carrots."</p> + +<p>"We'll cross George off the list. It's long enough without him, and +increasing with leaps and bounds. There'll probably be more names on it +by to-morrow night" (evidently I have a prophetic soul). "But to go back +to Somerled. Of course he foresaw something of what happened to-day: but +Barrie's face when Mrs. Bal suggested being a sister to her was enough +to turn a man of marble into a man of fire; and I don't think Somerled's +resolutions up to that point were as hard even as sandstone. He must see +now, as I do, that there'll be no place for the poor child with her +mother, whether Mrs. Bal marries a millionaire or goes gayly on with her +career as an actress. What is to become of a girl like Barrie, left to +her own devices, with every man—well, let's say every <i>second</i> man—who +passes, stopping to flirt if not to propose? My fear is that Somerled's +resolutions are turning round the other way, and that he's contemplating +himself as permanent guardian—if Barrie'll take him."</p> + +<p>"Take him! She'll snap at him. She shows her feelings in the most +disgusting way. Oh, my <i>dear</i> boy! I apologize. But I have feelings +too—as you know only too well."</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid she <i>is</i> getting to like him," I said, "but I persuade +myself, anyhow, that she's more in love with love in general than with +Somerled in particular. She's under the influence of the heather moon."</p> + +<p>"I'm not going to let her have Somerled!" Aline cried out sharply. "I +can't bear it. Can you?"</p> + +<p>"I'm an idiot about the girl," I admitted. "I get worse every day. The +more flies that collect round the honey the more I want it myself. I +didn't know I was that sort of person, but I am. The worst of it is, she +calls me her brother, which is fatal."</p> + +<p>"No, it isn't. It shan't be," said Aline. "I shall get her for you."</p> + +<p>"Thank you very much," said I.</p> + +<p>"I'm not joking. An idea is on its way to me. I've been seeing it dimly +for days, but its success depended a good deal on Mrs. Bal. Now, her +being afraid of me makes it easier. I can't lie here idle, with all this +going on—yet I can't let <i>him</i> see me as I am. My eyes look hideous. +They're pink, like an albino's. Otherwise I wouldn't listen to the +oculist. But I must do something. I begin to see what I <i>can</i> do, if +you'll go on helping me and yourself, and not be a fool."</p> + +<p>"I won't be more of a fool than Nature made me," I assured her, "though +I may be a fool to love that girl."</p> + +<p>"No, for you can make her care. Of course you can. She's hardly more +than a child."</p> + +<p>"You were married at eighteen," I reminded my sister. "At least you +always tell people you were."</p> + +<p>"If you were a woman, you'd be a thorough cat! It's true—I wasn't much +more, but <i>I</i> was mature in mind. I'd seen the world. Barrie MacDonald +will make you happy. You'll play together all your lives, and she can +take my place, helping you to write stories. It will be quite a romance +for the newspapers. And when she's out of sight, out of mind with Ian +Somerled, he'll realize that she wasn't the right one. He'll come back +to me, and see that I was always meant for him."</p> + +<p>"A woman's instinct is often right. Also many a heart is caught in the +rebound," said I, falling back on proverbs. And in this way, with the +talc that entered Aline's eyes, malice entered our hearts. Thus we took +up our parts of (alleged) villain and villainess.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Next morning, as early as I dared, I sent to ask if I might give Mrs. +Ballantree MacDonald a message from my sister. Word came back that she +would see me at once. Five minutes later I was knocking at the door of +her sitting-room, and, obeying her "Come in," found myself in the +presence of a Vision. She was in one of those tea-gown arrangements like +Aline's, only more so. She had a cap which, I fear, would have made +Aline's look, as they expressively say on the other side, "like thirty +cents." And if Morgan P. Bennett had seen the beautiful Barbara then, he +would have proposed without hesitating another second. That is, he would +have done so if Barrie hadn't come in before he began. She did come +while I was giving Aline's message to Mrs. Bal, and though she looked as +if she hadn't slept, to me she was more lovable than ever. I tried to +convince myself that Aline was right; that this girl and I were made for +each other; that, if I could take her away from Somerled, she and I were +bound to be happy together forever after.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bal explained that she was later than usual because she had not had +a good night, and her chief maid, in reality a trained nurse, had been +giving her electric massage.</p> + +<p>"Now I feel equal," she added, "to tackling the world, the flesh, <i>et le +diable</i>. Mrs. West is the world. Morgan Bennett's the <i>flesh</i>(he weighs +two hundred pounds!) and—I shall be the devil. I always am at a +rehearsal. But the mood shan't come on while I'm with your sister. Now I +must go and get dressed. I'll not be fifteen minutes. Really! You don't +know what I can do in the flying line, when I choose. You may stay and +amuse—my little sister."</p> + +<p>I knew better than to ask questions. If the girl wanted sympathy she +could find it in my eyes, but she would resent pity. I praised Mrs. Bal, +and found that I'd struck the right note.</p> + +<p>"Yes!" Barrie exclaimed. "Isn't mother—I mean Barbara—gloriously +beautiful? She wants me to call her Barbara, and I shall love it. I +shall love to do whatever she wants me to do, I'm sure, because she's +such a darling. Everybody must want to do what she wants them to do, +whether it's right or wrong—though she wouldn't want anything she +<i>thought</i> wrong, of course. Just fancy, she's given me heaps of pretty +things. I begged her not, but she would make me take them—a string of +pearls, and this ring—my very first!" (How I wish that I had put her +"very first" ring—or kiss—on the finger she displayed!) "And two +bangles—and she's going to pay back Sir S.—I mean Mr. Somerled" (so +she has her own name for him!)—"the money he lent me for my father's +brooch. Barbara doesn't want the brooch. I'm to keep it. And she says +she'll give me an allowance—but she expects Grandma to leave me +everything in her will. <i>I</i> don't—and I'd rather not, though +moth——Barbara thinks I shall some day be quite well off. I fancied we +were very poor, but Barbara says Grandma must have got back nearly all +that was lost, by saving."</p> + +<p>I guess that the girl was making talk to show me how well satisfied she +was with everything; but whenever she met my eyes she looked away, to +interest herself in some photograph or ornament.</p> + +<p>In less than the promised fifteen minutes Mrs. Bal appeared again, very +lovely and ridiculously young in a short blue serge dress, with a turned +down collar that showed her firm white throat. I was allowed to remain +with Barrie while "Barbara" went up to see my sister; and the ice being +broken between us, we chatted comfortably of everyday things, I +unreasonably happy because I had got in ahead of Somerled for once. It +began to seem like a game of chess between us; I—directed by +Aline—playing against Somerled. If Aline upstairs were at this minute +making the move she planned, it would be check to his queen, Barrie of +course being queen.</p> + +<p>The only questions I ventured to ask the girl, and those in a casual +way, were, "Had she heard from or seen Somerled since yesterday +afternoon? And what was the programme for her, during this week of the +new play in Edinburgh?"</p> + +<p>Her answers were that she had neither seen nor heard from Somerled, and +that she didn't know what she was to do during the week. She hoped to +see something of Edinburgh. She supposed we—and Mr. Somerled—would +soon be leaving for the west or north. But she had written Mr. Douglas, +by Barbara's request, and he was very nice. He might be counted on to +show her things. He was invited to call this afternoon with his cousin. +Jack Morrison had written asking to come too, and Barbara said that he +might do so—bringing his three friends. She—Barrie—must be very, very +careful always to say "Barbara" and never—the <i>other</i>. She could +<i>quite</i> understand now how the darling felt, though it had seemed queer +at first.</p> + +<p>By and by Mrs. Bal returned, and I saw by the light in her eyes and the +colour on her cheeks that the conversation with Aline had been +interesting. Hardly had she arrived and begun demanding from her various +maids various things wanted at the theatre, when Somerled sent up to beg +a moment's talk with her.</p> + +<p>"Tell the gentleman I shall be delighted," she said to the hotel +servant: and I saw that she was smiling the impish smile which Barrie +has inherited.</p> + +<p>"So glad you came before I got away!" she exclaimed, shaking hands with +Somerled. "Five minutes more and I should have missed you. I'm due at +the theatre now. The poor wretches are rehearsing without me, but I must +turn up for a scene, at eleven!"</p> + +<p>"I won't keep you five minutes," said Somerled, quietly. "I only want to +ask if you'll let Barrie—provided she'd like it—" he glanced at the +girl, whose eyes brightened—"take a few excursions with her friend Mrs. +James and me, in my car this week. You'll be busy and——"</p> + +<p>"I should have been delighted, and I'm sure Barrie would," broke in Mrs. +Bal, "but you're just too late. A new thing for you, isn't it? I've been +having the most charming visit with Mrs. West, who is better, but must +keep to her rooms for two or three days. Her car will be eating its head +off unless it's used, and I've promised that her friends the +Vannecks—such <i>nice</i> people! I met them in Mrs. West's +sitting-room—and Mr. Norman shall have Barrie for—probably—the very +excursions you have in mind. Too bad! But first come, first served! +You've all been so good to this girl, one hardly knows how to choose +between you. But I thought Mrs. James was going home at once? I +understood from Barrie that she said so last night?"</p> + +<p>"She has decided to stay until the little surprise I'm trying to arrange +for her, comes off—or on. She doesn't know what it is, but she pays me +the compliment of taking it on trust. She'll be disappointed at having +to give up the motor runs she was looking forward to with Barrie."</p> + +<p>"You've plenty of old friends in Edinburgh, I'm sure," suggested Mrs. +Bal, "and you can make up a party to console dear Mrs. James for the +loss of Barrie."</p> + +<p>"I don't believe Mrs. James can be induced to take any excursions +without Barrie," said Somerled: which meant that he didn't intend to +leave Edinburgh while the girl was in it and at the mercy of her erratic +parent. I thought he was anxious Barrie should understand that he was +not going to desert her. Perhaps she did understand, for she is quick in +penetration; but her own pride, and loyalty to Mrs. Bal, kept her from +showing that she felt need of protection, or even that she supposed +Somerled to be offering it. She did show, however, that it grieved her +to refuse his invitation. She took the "tip" he gave and put it all upon +Mrs. James: how sorry she was not to do any more sight-seeing with dear +Mrs. James. But I knew that the name in her heart was not the name on +her tongue.</p> + +<p>Aline had scored. I wanted to know just how, and how far, but I +determined not to leave Barrie with Somerled. I needn't have worried, +however, for Mrs. Bal and I had the same thought. She asked if Barrie +would like to go to the theatre with her and watch a rehearsal. +Naturally, Barrie said yes, and Somerled and I saw them off in the +smaller of the two motor-cars which Morgan Bennett had placed at Mrs. +Bal's service for the Edinburgh week. As for Bennett himself, he was +apparently "lying low," by her wish or his own; but I expected to see +him at the theatre that night. Of course, we were all going to turn out +in full force for "The Nelly Affair." Somerled had taken a box, he told +me, and proceeded to invite the whole party; but there also Aline had +got in ahead. During Mrs. Bal's call upon her, they had arranged that +the Vannecks and I should sit with Barrie in stalls offered by the Star. +Mrs. Bal had (she assured us fluently, before starting off in her car) +intended asking Somerled and Mrs. James too, and stalls were provided +for them. But as he had already engaged a box, she would give the seats +to the two Douglases. Perhaps he—Somerled—would have room in his box +for those nice American boys, of whom Barrie seemed so fond?</p> + +<p>Aline was eagerly waiting for me to come back and congratulate her upon +her great success. She wanted to tell me everything; but her desire to +talk was nothing compared with my yearning to hear.</p> + +<p>"It's all right," she began. "I've made a bargain with Mrs. Bal. I told +her you were in love with Barrie. That's the way I broke the ice, after +I'd paid her compliments and she'd sympathized about my eyes. I said I'd +keep her secret, and answer for the Vannecks, if she'd give you a chance +with Barrie."</p> + +<p>"By Jove!" I grumbled. "You didn't mince matters between you! Anything +said about Somerled?"</p> + +<p>"Why, I told her that the child was fancying herself in love with Ian, +and behaving rather foolishly. And I said that Ian was naturally +flattered, but that he was the last man to marry a baby like Barrie; and +if we didn't act quickly, the poor little girl might suffer. You must +have noticed, Basil, that Mrs. Bal doesn't like Ian Somerled."</p> + +<p>"I've noticed that she takes an impish delight in thwarting him."</p> + +<p>"That's because he once thwarted her. She admitted as much. Or, at least +she said she asked him to paint her portrait, and he did paint it. When +the picture was finished, he gave it to her, and didn't even make +himself a copy."</p> + +<p>"Well," I replied, puzzled, "I don't see anything in that to upset her. +Even for a beauty like Mrs. Bal it's a compliment to be painted by +Somerled. And surely it was a mark of regard to make her a present of +the picture, when he can get from a thousand to five thousand pounds for +anything he chooses to do."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you <i>man</i>," exclaimed Aline. "And you pretend to be a student of +women's characters! Of course Mrs. Bal was furious because he didn't beg +to do her portrait and then make two, one for her, and one for himself. +Fancy my having to explain! And besides, there must have been more than +that in the affair. She wouldn't have asked him to paint the picture if +she hadn't wanted to see him often alone, and make him fall in love with +her. His giving her the portrait was a kind of defiance, to show her +that he didn't care <i>that</i> for the original."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, if you think so!" said I.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Bal thinks so. And she's enchanted to get her revenge. Not that +she'd have chosen this way, because, of course, it's a sickening thing +to have Ian and all these men know that she's old enough to be the +mother of a grown-up daughter—and to be obliged to throw herself on +their mercy to help her out of the scrape. She laughs and pretends it's +a joke, but she simply <i>hates</i> it. I hinted to her that if you married +the girl there'd be no talk ever about Barrie being Mrs. Ballantree +MacDonald's daughter. That should be <i>forgotten</i>, I said, though they +could correspond with each other and be good friends. Barrie would live +in Canada with you, and be out of Mrs. Bal's life altogether. And I +impressed it upon her that your ideal existence was a quiet country +place. It was the same as telling her that she'd be <i>rid</i> of Barrie by +giving her to you. Whereas, if the girl should marry Ian, Somerled's +wife would always be before the public eye, and everybody would be sure +to find out all about her. Mrs. Bal caught my meaning, you may be sure; +and she promised me that Barrie should go everywhere with us, or rather, +with you and the Vannecks, till I can get about. Anyhow, <i>nowhere</i> with +Ian. Now, you see, I've done all I can for you."</p> + +<p>"And for yourself," I was mean enough to add, for the thought of what we +were doing together was not a good thought, and it brought out the worst +of me.</p> + +<p>"I haven't any one to work for my interests. <i>You</i> have," she retorted; +and as I'd no mind for further recrimination I begged her pardon, +thanked her gratefully, and proceeded to tell all that had happened in +Mrs. Bal's room. It was not pleasant for Aline to hear how prompt +Somerled had been in trying to relieve Mrs. Bal of her burden; but there +was consolation in his disappointment.</p> + +<p>"Do I look very horrid?" she questioned anxiously, "or do you think I +might ask him to take pity on me for a little while this afternoon, and +sit here when you're all out sight-seeing?"</p> + +<p>I reassured her, saying that her eyes looked no worse than if she'd been +indulging in a "good cry." She decided, however, that if Somerled came +she would bandage them again and continue to resemble Justice. I didn't +ruffle her feelings by remarking that morally the resemblance would be a +parody.</p> + +<p>When Maud Vanneck and I went, soon after luncheon, to ask if Barrie +would walk in Princes Street, with perhaps a stroll along the High +Street, and on to Holyrood or the Castle, I found Mrs. James in Mrs. +Bal's sitting-room with the two Douglases and the four Americans. The +mother and daughter had returned late from rehearsal, and had just +finished luncheon. Mrs. Bal had a letter in her hand, which had +evidently arrived with a box of orchids, probably a tribute from +Bennett; and the lady's desire to get us out of the way suggested the +imminent arrival of a caller worth keeping to herself.</p> + +<p>Finally, it was arranged that we should all go out together, the +Douglases assuring the rest of us that they could open doors which would +be shut to strangers.</p> + +<p>"Where's Somerled?" I asked Mrs. James, in case he were condescending to +lie in wait somewhere.</p> + +<p>"When I saw him last," she replied, "he'd got an immense pile of foreign +letters, and several cablegrams. It looked as if he'd enough to occupy +him the whole afternoon. Important business I suppose; yet in spite of +all, I believe he's been concerning himself with some surprise for me. +He may perhaps have news I shall like to hear when I get back. I expect +he's been telling some friend about those Stuart chairs I want to sell, +and thinks he's got me a buyer."</p> + +<p>The Douglases took us to see the <i>Scotsman</i> building, and the secret, +inner workings of a great newspaper. We descended from marble halls to +vast underground regions, the lair of a monster immeasurably more +powerful than the Minotaur who ramped and raved under the Palace of +Crete. The roar of this modern Minotaur was as the noise of Niagara +broken by stormy bursts of thunder. It stunned the intelligence; it +shrivelled the organs of speech like a dried kernel rattling impotently +in an old nutshell. It filled the world and made human happenings, such +as individual lives and deaths, seem of no more importance than the +snapping of thumb and finger in front of a cataract. I couldn't have +lived in the tumult long and kept my wits; but we heard of an employé +who, when some tooth or nail in the enormous monster smote him, could +not bear to stop away long enough to complete his cure, because he was +unable to bear the "awful stillness" of the hospital. Persons of +impregnable nerve-power let us deeper and deeper into the bowels of the +earth, showing us the dragon's brood, and his terrible wife whose +business it is not only to print the newspaper, but to cut its sheets, +and eventually to lay them like eggs, at the rate of thousands a minute: +a most appalling creature she, who so battered my brain with her +accomplishments and the wild cackle she made over them, that weakly I +let Barrie be snatched from me by Donald Douglas.</p> + +<p>In the roar and rush and riot I was incapable of caring, though vaguely +I recalled the fact that I had come out with the sole object of annexing +the girl's society. Vaguely too, though only vaguely, I resented the +Douglas method; but I had my revenge almost before I recovered sense +enough to want it. There came, I know not why or how (perhaps one of the +masters decreed it, to strike our ears with the contrast), a sudden +unexpected lull. It was only a comparative lull, and it lasted no more +than a few seconds; but there was time enough to hear Douglas yell into +Barrie's ear, "I must have you for my own."</p> + +<p>The next instant he was purple through his soldier-tan. He knew the +dragon and the dragon's wicked wife had betrayed him, as he took +advantage of their domestic clamour to speak in a crowd as though he +were alone with his love in the desert. What Barrie answered, or if she +had breath to answer, none of us could guess, though all, especially the +four Americans, were bursting with anxiety to know. Later, however, when +we went up to the Castle (anything but the Castle, with its thousand +years of history, would have been an anticlimax after that wonderful +dragon cave), Donald Douglas walked meekly with his cousin, leaving +Barrie to Jack Morrison. As for me, I had temporarily lost my +individuality, and with that roar still echoing through my brain, +vibrating through my nerves, I was glad to crawl along, talking to +nobody, and picking up dropped or untied bits of myself as I went. For +the moment, frankly I didn't care how many men proposed to Barrie, or +whether she accepted them all. But afterward, it was different. It +occurred to me that Jack Morrison was not only a handsome and gallant +fellow, but said to be very rich, at least as rich as Somerled, and ten +years younger. Aline and I might be mistaken about the girl's feelings +for Ian. Very likely it was no more than a romantic sort of gratitude; +and though I absolved the child from the smallest taint of mercenary +motive, it was almost impossible that a sleepless night had not given +her some wise counsel. She was too sensitive and quick-witted a girl, I +reflected, not to have seen that she could not go on living with her +mother, and that it was a necessity to find a niche somewhere. All these +young men saw this also, though they knew no more than the fact that +they were prayed to consider Mrs. Bal an elder sister of "Miss +Ballantree," therefore they were hastening to offer her sheltering +niches, more or less desirable. In other circumstances, they would have +waited a few days, long enough at least for Barrie to know which was +which, and get their features and some of their characteristics ticketed +with the right labels; but as it was, each saw he had no time to waste +if he didn't want his friend or foe to get in ahead of him. While we +were at the Castle, looking at Mons Meg (which recalled Thrieve) and the +banqueting-hall of armour with its faded banners and fadeless memories; +gaping at the mysterious place over the entrance door where, in a +bricked-up alcove, a baby skeleton was found wrapped in cloth of gold +embroidered with a royal monogram; walking through the wainscoted room +where Mary of Guise died; gazing at the long mislaid crown of Bruce +("the Honours of Scotland"); seeing sweet Queen Margaret's Chapel where +the Black Rood lay till it went in state down the hill to make Holyrood +holy; peering at the wall-stairway down which the Douglas boys were +dragged after the "black dinner"; admiring the kilted soldiers; and +drinking in the view over hill and valley and mountains, towns and +nestling villages, the vast, colourful checkerboard of beautiful Mary +Stuart's journeys, flights and fightings: while beholding treasures and +splendours which are as the red drops of Scotland's heart's blood, man +after man took his place at Barrie's side and became her cicerone. Each +talked with her awhile, and after a few brief minutes allowed a change +of partners, the discarded one humbly retiring to Mrs. James's side. It +was really funny; or at least so it seemed until enough self-assertion +came back to admit of my entering the lists. Then I promptly lost my +sense of humour, and had no wish to look for it. I wanted only to look +at Barrie, who was unusually flushed and bright of eye.</p> + +<p>By this time there wasn't much left to tell her about the Castle or the +Castle Rock. When I began to work off my erudition by mentioning the +name of Edwin, for whom Edinburgh was named, and who made it a royal +borough in the eleventh century, she said:</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mr. Douglas's cousin, the other Douglas, told me that!"</p> + +<p>When I related the tale of that gallant Francis who was able to lead Sir +Thomas Randolph and thirty soldiers up the perilous rocks to surprise +the Castle at night, having learned the way when sweethearting down in +the Grass-market, Barrie confessed that she had heard the story already. +Jack Morrison had found it in some old book he had bought at the shop +under John Knox's house, in the High Street. There was no use trying to +work up or classify historic thrills for her in this vast heart of +Scotland; she had been given them all, with generous additional thrills +from private hearts, Scottish and American.</p> + +<p>"Has every single one of those chaps proposed to you?" I flung the +question in her face. "You might tell your Mentor."</p> + +<p>"Oh, not Donald Douglas's cousin!" she answered hastily. "He's engaged +to some one in the Highlands."</p> + +<p>"Good heavens, then all the rest <i>have</i> done it, in a bunch!"</p> + +<p>"I think you're <i>horrid</i>!" she said indignantly. "I've always heard that +girls don't tell such things to any one."</p> + +<p>"They do to their brothers—of the pen, if they have any such. Besides, +you don't need to tell. I'm a regular Sherlock Holmes where people +I—like, are concerned, and I know what's been happening to you this +afternoon. A manna-rain of proposals, in the wilderness of Edinburgh +Castle. Many girls would have accepted them all, and then sorted them +out to see which they liked best; but I have a shrewd idea from the look +of the gentlemen's backs that they are now one and all your adopted +brethren."</p> + +<p>"It's almost wicked to joke on such a subject," Barrie reproached me, +trying not to laugh, "and it's not nice of you to make fun of them, just +because you consider yourself superior, as an author who is always +analyzing people's minds and motives. It's not as if they were so much +in love with me that they had to propose in a hurry for their own sakes. +It's not that <i>at all</i>; but only because they thought it wouldn't be +very convenient for—Barbara to have me live with her, travelling about +so much, or if she should marry. So they felt as if something ought to +be <i>done</i> for me, you know, as soon as possible."</p> + +<p>"Sainted, unselfish young men!" I murmured. "But I don't consider myself +superior, as it happens. I'd do the same thing in a minute if I thought +there were the faintest chance of your giving me an answer different +from theirs. Is there?"</p> + +<p>"Don't talk nonsense!" she exclaimed. "But of course, I'm happy to say, +I know you don't mean it."</p> + +<p>"Well, if you're happy to say that, I'll leave you your fond illusions +for the present," I returned. "But, as girl to man, tell me; don't you +rather like being proposed to?"</p> + +<p>"It's very exciting," she admitted. "I never expected, somehow, that +such a thing could happen to me."</p> + +<p>"Oh, didn't you? Why not?"</p> + +<p>"Well, there's my red hair, which I always thought was <i>fatal</i>, until I +saw my mother's portrait—and heard Mr. Somerled say he liked painting +red-haired women."</p> + +<p>"Red hair <i>can</i> be fatal, though not in the way you appear to mean," +said I. "Which thrilled you more, the Castle or the proposals?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, the Castle, of course!" she answered scornfully. "After the first +one or two, they seemed like interruptions."</p> + +<p>All five of my rivals (there might have been six, had it not been for +the girl in the Highlands) having had their medicine, I was allowed +almost as much as I wanted of Barrie's society during the walk down from +the Castle Rock, and to Holyrood. Together she and I walked through that +most romantic royal house of all the world; and long as I may live, +never shall I forget those hours. Chestnut-tressed Mary herself could +not have been lovelier than the red-haired girl who walked beside me, +and when the royal beauty came on a day of chill, northern haar, to her +Scottish realm, she was only a year older than this child we all love +but think too young for love. Yet already, at nineteen, Mary was a +King's widow, and had been Queen of France.</p> + +<p>It was of Barrie's romance, Barrie's future, I thought most, as we +wandered side by side through the haunted rooms where Mary danced and +loved and suffered, where her grandson Charles I of England came, and +left his ruby Coronation ring for remembrance, and where Prince Charlie, +her far-off descendant, made hearts flutter at the great ball given in +his honour. But it was the past which had all Barrie's thoughts, unless +she sent a few to the man who had stayed at home reading his letters, +instead of following in her train.</p> + +<p>We looked at Queen Mary's bed with its tattered splendour of brocade: +the box filled with relics of her short reign in Holyrood: her neat +embroideries, her tear bottle, and Darnley's glove, which Barrie thought +Mary would not like to have kept with the other things: and then, having +saved the best for the last, I took the girl up to the little +supper-room where Rizzio was murdered. Barrie gazed at everything in +silence: and now we could both be silent when we liked, for the +chastened ones had meekly trooped off to show Mrs. James the Abbey, or +Royal Chapel, where Mary and Darnley were married, and where a hundred +things had happened, things connected with others whose romances were as +poignant if less well remembered here, than hers.</p> + +<p>We had come up the secret stairway in the wall, because I wanted Barrie +to miss no thrill this place could give; but it was not the thought of +the murder-scene which most caught her imagination. She listened to my +dramatic version of the tragedy of the room, and of the dark closet +where Rizzio tried to hide, and shuddered a little; but soon she was +drawn, as if beckoned by an unseen hand, to the bevelled mirror with +scalloped edge, which Mary brought with her to Scotland from France, a +dim oval full of memories, may be, of dear, dead days at Amboise and +Chenonceaux.</p> + +<p>"What does that poor piece of blurred glass make you think of so +intently?" I asked, when Barrie had stood silently staring down the +veiled vista of mystery for many minutes. "You look like a young modern +Cassandra, crystal gazing."</p> + +<p>"So I am!" the girl almost whispered. "I'm trying to see something in +the mirror—the things <i>she</i> saw in it—or to see her eyes looking into +mine. If anything can be haunted, it is this mirror. Think of what has +passed before it. But do you know, I don't believe it has ever really +intelligently seen anything since the day Queen Mary went away from +Holyrood. I feel she ran here, to take one last look into her mirror, +and to bid it farewell as she bade farewell to France, gazing and gazing +as the land faded from her sight forever. Then, when she'd gone, the +glass she loved grew dim as it is now, and <i>blind</i> because it could no +longer give back the brightness of her eyes. There's nothing left in it +now but sad dreams and memories of the past."</p> + +<p>"Did you ever," I asked, "go down into the cellar at midnight on All +Hallow E'en with a candle and a mirror and wish to see the face of your +future husband?"</p> + +<p>"No, indeed," Barrie answered emphatically; "we had no such tricks at +Hillard House."</p> + +<p>"Now, in this mirror, if any in the world, you might be able to see such +a vision, not only at midnight, but on an ordinary afternoon, like this +for instance," said I. "Suppose you stop thinking of Queen Mary for a +minute and concentrate on yourself. Wish with all your heart for the +face of the man you'll love, the man you'll marry, to appear under this +clouded surface of glass."</p> + +<p>Barrie looked somewhat impressed by my mysterious tone as well as the +overwhelming romance of her surroundings. She put her face close to the +mirror, and I was about to profit by the situation I'd led up to when +some one stepped between us and looked over the girl's shoulder. It was +Somerled, who must have come in just in time to overhear my advice, and +take advantage of it for himself. But he could not wholly blot me out of +the mirror. Both our faces were there, to be seen by Barrie, "as in a +glass darkly." She gave a little cry of surprise, and wheeled round to +smile at Somerled.</p> + +<p>"You came after all!" she exclaimed, forgetting or pretending to forget +the solemn rite which had engaged us. But I must admit I was in a mood +to be almost superstitious about it. I had prophesied to the girl that +she would see reflected the face of the man she was destined to love and +marry. An instant later she had seen two faces, Somerled's and mine. +Would she love one man, and marry the other? Or would only one of these +two men count in her life?</p> + +<p>Perhaps Queen Mary's mirror knew. It looked capable of knowing—and +keeping—any secret of the human heart.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>That night—oh, my prophetic soul!—Morgan Bennett saw Barrie at the +theatre, and looked at her through his opera-glasses almost as often as +he looked at Mrs. Bal in her gay, exciting comedy-drama, "The Nelly +Affair." The play had been written for the actress and suited her +exactly. In fact its whole success was made by her magnetic personality, +her beauty, and her dresses. She scarcely left the stage, and had +something to do or say every minute, yet I noticed that she found +opportunities to observe where Bennett's eyes were straying. As for +Barrie, she saw nothing, heard nothing, thought of nothing, but her +mother, glorious Barbara, who for this evening was Nelly Blake, a girl +of eighteen, seeming not a day older. Barrie, in a white dress, with her +hair in two long braids (Mrs. Bal thought she was too young to wear it +done up), sat among us in an ecstasy. Was ever any one so beautiful, so +clever, so altogether marvellous as darling Barbara? This was as it +should be; and we who knew the girl, knowing that she had never before +seen a play, nor the inside of a theatre, thought her pathetic; but +Morgan Bennett, who did not know her, merely thought her pretty and +wondered how he could get to know her. The very flash of his +opera-glasses was interested and eager; and when I proudly took the girl +behind the scenes to compliment Mrs. Bal after the first act, I was far +from surprised to see Bennett appear almost immediately in the same +mystic region. Barrie and I were with Barbara in a little room which she +intended to use as a boudoir for the week of her engagement; and when an +employé of the theatre announced Mr. Bennett, she looked annoyed. For an +instant she hesitated visibly; but as he was probably aware that she had +visitors, there was no good excuse for sending him away. Part of Mrs. +Bal's success with men consists in knowing what kind of snubs they will +meekly endure from a lovely spoiled woman, what kind they neither forget +nor forgive. She sent word to Mr. Bennett that he might come in.</p> + +<p>He accepted the invitation promptly, and Barbara, with quick presence of +mind, introduced him to her little "sister Barribel."</p> + +<p>"Barribel! That's a pretty name," he said, shaking hands with Barrie, +his eyes on her face. "Miss Barribel Ballantree, I suppose."</p> + +<p>"You may suppose so!" returned Mrs. Bal, laughing.</p> + +<p>"I saw this young lady sitting out in front," he went on, instead of +congratulating the actress at once on the success of the first act, +which had "gone" splendidly with the large audience. "I said to myself +there must be a relationship between you two: and I was wondering."</p> + +<p>"Well, you needn't bother to wonder any more," broke in Mrs. Bal, very +gay but slightly shrill. "I must have spoken to you about Barrie?"</p> + +<p>"'Barrie' is what you call her?" said he, smiling at the girl. "That's a +very nice pet name, and suits her, somehow. You surely never spoke of +your sister to me. I shouldn't have forgotten." He added the last words +with a look intended as a compliment for Barrie; and any woman wishing +to monopolize his attention exclusively might have been pardoned for +thinking that he had looked at her more than often enough in the +circumstances. In his big way he is attractive, to certain types of +women, very attractive indeed, and I could understand that his millions +might not be his only charm for Mrs. Bal. He has eyes which can be +fierce as an eagle's; the strong, almost cruel jaw of the predestined +millionaire who will mount to success at any cost; a pleasure-loving +mouth, and—when he is pleased—a boyish smile. When he is severely +displeased, I shouldn't care to be there to see him, especially if he +were displeased with me. But I suspect Mrs. Bal to be one of those women +who could not love a man unless she were afraid of him. In that may have +lain the secret of Somerled's former fascination for her, if it existed.</p> + +<p>"If I've forgotten to mention Barrie, it's because I'm always talking +about <i>you</i>, when we're together," Mrs. Bal excused herself with dainty +impertinence of the sort Bennett will stand from her. "If it isn't about +you, it's about your motors—or some affair of yours."</p> + +<p>"I thought you, and <i>your</i> affairs were generally the subject of our +conversations," retorted the big man, still looking more at the young +girl than at the woman. "Miss Ballantree is your affair——"</p> + +<p>"She has only just become so," Barbara hurried to explain. "Her +grandmother, who thoroughly disapproves of me and all actresses, has +kept the child shut up in a moated grange all her life. It's a wonder I +didn't forget her existence! She <i>had</i> begun to seem like a sort of +dream-sister, until she suddenly dropped in on me yesterday, and +announced that she'd run away from home. I'm simply enchanted to have +the darling with me, for my own sake, or I should be if I hadn't such a +beautiful, unselfish nature that I find I worry myself into fits about +her when she's out of my sight. To-night I couldn't half act, because I +was thinking about her all the time, and wondering what on earth I could +do to make her happy. I foresee I shan't be able to study or rehearse or +anything, while she's getting into mischief in a big hotel. I shall send +her away though to-morrow, for a few days, with some <i>very</i> dear friends +of hers, who will give her a good time until I settle down and feel at +home with this new play—in which, by the way, you don't seem to take +the <i>slightest</i> interest. You haven't said a word about it, or how it +went, or how I acted."</p> + +<p>"You know better than that——" Bennett was beginning when Barrie (to +whom, despite his size, he was a figure of no importance) broke in +without being aware that he was speaking.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Barbara, you won't make me go <i>to-morrow</i>; You promised——"</p> + +<p>"If she promised, we must make her stick to her promise," said Bennett, +forgiving the interruption, and perhaps willing to tease Mrs. Bal.</p> + +<p>The beautiful Barbara, however, had gathered together her scattered +wits, and was too wise to show that she was being teased. "I know, I +meant to keep you with me this Edinburgh week anyhow," she answered the +girl. "But, sweetest, you won't want to hold me to the promise, no +matter what Mr. Bennett or any one else says, if I tell you that I'm +worrying over your being here? I don't feel it's the right thing for +you. And it's certain Grandma will change her will if she hears you're +living with me. It's a miracle I didn't dry up in my part to-night from +sheer anxiety and absent-mindedness. You'd hate me to <i>fail</i> through +you, dear one, I know."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes—anything but that," Barrie exclaimed, tears in her eyes.</p> + +<p>Alas, if only some other name than that of M. P. Bennett had added +itself to her list of admirers, all might have been well for Barrie with +sister Barbara, at least for a little while! As it was, the girl's fate +was sealed. So much the better for me: yet my fool of a heart ached for +her disappointment, instead of leaping for joy at my own good luck.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bal looked at the girl with an odd expression on her charming face, +painted for the stage. There was compunction, if not remorse, in the big +brown eyes, but there was no relenting. She liked Barrie and enjoyed her +childish adoration, but she loved herself, and she wanted to "land" +Morgan Bennett. The girl would have to be sacrificed; still, those +rising tears gave Barbara pain to see. She would really have been glad +to make Barrie happy, if the creature's youth and beauty had not been an +hourly peril for her.</p> + +<p>"Don't look so disconsolate, dear," she said. "You're going to have a +glorious time. And if wet eyelashes are a compliment to me, they're just +the opposite to Mr. Norman."</p> + +<p>"Is it Mr. Norman the novelist?" Bennett wanted to know.</p> + +<p>"Yes. And he's going to let Barrie help him with a story—or else he's +putting her into one, I'm not quite sure which."</p> + +<p>Barbara threw him this bit of information with a sweetly casual air, but +it was one of the cleverest things she ever did, on the stage or off. +Somehow, with a smile that flashed over us all with a special meaning +for each—affection for Barrie, a benediction for me, and a secret +understanding for Bennett—she contrived to convey to him the idea that +her little sister was already bespoken. No use his being led away by +rosebud innocence! It was engaged, and if he were wise he would be true +to his love for the full-blown rose.</p> + +<p>"Just think, pet, what an honour to be taken about by such famous people +as Basil Norman and Aline West," she went on, "and to have them for your +best friends. You'd have had a horrid dull time with them gone, for I +should have had to leave you alone a lot. And next week, when they bring +you back to me at Glasgow, your future will be all beautifully +arranged."</p> + +<p>"But Mrs. West isn't well enough to go to-morrow——" Barrie pleaded.</p> + +<p>"No. But Mrs. Vanneck will chaperon you for a few days. You ought to be +frightfully happy, seeing Scotland with those you love while your poor +Barbara works for her daily bread. And now you must go out in front +again with Mr. Norman, if you don't want to miss the beginning of the +second act. Mr. Bennett has seen it, so he can stop with me five minutes +if he likes, till my call."</p> + +<p>Barrie had been at rehearsal, and would no doubt have been quite willing +to miss any part of the play not graced by Mrs. Bal's presence on the +stage; but short as was the time since she made her mother's +acquaintance, she had learned to know the lady well enough to realize +when she was not wanted. She went with me like a lamb resigned to the +slaughter; and so, I was sure, would she start with us next day. But +just here, I think, is the place to write down what had meanwhile +happened to Mrs. James. If it hadn't been for that happening, perhaps we +should not, after all, have snatched the girl away so easily from +Somerled. And the funny thing was—for it had its funny side, as even he +must have seen—the funny thing was, that all was his own fault. When he +planned that wonderful surprise for Mrs. James, he little thought it +would be the means of stealing his trump card from him. Generous he may +be, and is, I must admit; but it's not likely that he would have been +unselfish enough to put himself in a hole for Mrs. James's happiness, +especially as he could have got just as much credit from Barrie by +waiting a few weeks—say, until the end of the "heather moon."</p> + +<p>To have brought in the "surprise" in its proper order, I should have +worked it into my notes between our sight-seeing expedition in the +afternoon, and the theatre in the evening, for it was common property by +that time. We all knew (from Mrs. James, not from himself), what a noble, +magnificent, wonderful, glorious, altogether pluperfect fellow Somerled +was, to have interested himself in her behalf, and to have given her +such happiness as all her friends had thought her mad to dream of +through the dreary years.</p> + +<p>Always, it seems, she believed that her husband, who disappeared +seventeen years ago, was alive, and only waiting for success to crown +his ambitions, before returning to her. Everybody else thought he had +drowned himself, because of some professional trouble. But Mrs. James's +faith has been the great romance of her life; and Barrie (or the little +woman herself, I don't know which) told Somerled the story the day they +left Carlisle in his car. Some details caught his attention, and made +him wonder if Mrs. James's instinct were not more right than other +people's reason.</p> + +<p>When Somerled went to America as a boy, he travelled in the steerage. On +board the same ship was a man calling himself James Richard, a man of +something over thirty, in whom Somerled became interested. They made +friends, though they gave each other no intimate confidences; and James +Richard made one or two remarks which suggested that he had been a +doctor. Evidently he was a man of culture, interested in many things, +including chemistry and Scottish history. After landing in New York the +two met occasionally by appointment, and the older man spoke of an +invention which, if he could get the help of some millionaire to perfect +it, ought to make his fame and fortune, and revolutionize anaesthetics; +but Somerled had thought little of this at the time. So many men he met +in those days had queer fads by means of which they hoped to achieve +glory. Soon, even before he himself reached success, Somerled and James +Richard drifted apart. The rising artist forgot the ship-acquaintance +with whom, owing to the difference in their ages and interests, he had +never had more than casual acquaintance. It was not until he heard the +story of Mrs. James's husband, the clever doctor who loved Scottish +history and had invented a new anaesthetic just before disappearing +seventeen years ago, that he remembered his shipmate, James Richard. +Then he recalled his appearance; and the descriptions tallied. A scar on +the forehead was a distinguishing mark with the man supposed to have +drowned himself and the man who had travelled to America in the +steerage. Somerled cabled at once to New York, instructing a firm of +private detectives to trace James Richard, an Englishman, probably a +doctor, who had landed in New York from a certain ship on a certain +date.</p> + +<p>The first reply was not very encouraging. The man had left New York many +years ago, and no one knew where he had gone. But the next cablegram +brought news that James Richard, or some one answering to the name and +description had been tracked to Chicago. There he had practised as a +doctor with some success, but had fallen seriously ill, had given up his +business, and had again disappeared. The detective "on the job" was +going to Colorado to look for him, as the climate of that state had been +recommended to Richard by a fellow practitioner.</p> + +<p>On the Monday morning after our arrival in Edinburgh, a third message +had come. This announced that the doctor had left Colorado and gone to +California, where he was now living at Riverside, with a rising +practice; but that he was considered a "crank," because he constantly +besieged rich men to start a laboratory in which to work out his +theories. Two or three had half promised their help, but for some reason +or other the financial schemes had fallen through. Still the man never +appeared to lose hope. Having received this news, Somerled wired direct +to the doctor, offering him as much money as he needed, if, before +anything further was settled, he would come over to Scotland and reveal +himself to his wife.</p> + +<p>Up to this time, Somerled had said nothing to Mrs. James, except that he +hoped to give her a pleasant surprise; and told her even this only +because she planned to go back to Carlisle, now that Barrie was with her +mother. Naturally Somerled had several important reasons for wishing the +little woman to stay; but the one, he alleged, was his desire to see +what she thought of the "surprise" when it came.</p> + +<p>He, of course, must have had visions of keeping this useful queen of +spades up his sleeve, that he might be ready to trump one of our knavish +tricks with her, at any moment; but the gods fought against him for +once. Just before theatre-time, arrived a long cablegram from James +Richard, alias Richard James. He thanked Somerled enthusiastically (Mrs. +James showed the message to me, and to every one of us), accepted his +loan, believing that eventually it could be repaid, and was more than +happy to hear news of his wife, whom he had left only for her own good, +because at that tune he considered himself disgraced and ruined. He had +intended suicide, but the thought of his invention had changed his mind +and plans at the last moment. He had gone to the new world to find what +the old had denied him, and after a hundred disappointments he was to be +rewarded, through Somerled. He asked now for nothing better than to +return, but only for long enough to see his wife, and take her back to +California with him. To his deep regret, however, he could not start at +once, as he had broken his leg and would not be able to travel for +several weeks at least. Would she come to him as soon as she could +settle her affairs?</p> + +<p>I imagine Somerled must have been sorely tempted not to show this +message, for it would rob him of Mrs. James and leave him where he had +been after his quarrel with Aline, minus a chaperon for Barrie, if he +could contrive to snatch the girl from Mrs. Bal. But he had said too +much about the "surprise" to suppress developments now. Besides, it +would have been almost inhuman to delay the meeting of the husband and +wife, so long parted. Neither would have forgiven him if he had coolly +kept them apart for his own convenience; but so grateful, so adoring to +her hero was Mrs. James, that if "the doctor" had not been ill and +needing her, I think of her own free will she would have offered to stop +in Edinburgh for a few days to "see what happened." As it was, there was +no question of her staying. She and Somerled arranged that she should +leave for Carlisle by the first train possible in the morning. At home +she was to settle her few affairs temporarily, and catch a quick ship +for New York, whence she would hurry on to California.</p> + +<p>Somerled gave her advice for the journey (and perhaps something more +substantial), but he must have seen that, though virtue might be its own +reward, he was unlikely to get any other. Mrs. Bal had lent Barrie to +us, and without a woman to aid and abet him, it seemed to me that he was +powerless. Such chaperons as Mrs. James don't grow on blackberry bushes +even in Scotland, where blackberries, if not gooseberries, are the best +in the world. Somerled had done for himself.</p> + +<p>Oh, there was no doubt of it this time! Not only had we, in the game of +chess we were quietly playing with him, got his little white queen in +check; we had swept her off the board.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Happenings began thick and fast the morning after.</p> + +<p>The first thing I heard was, from Aline, that at the theatre last night +(probably just after she sent us away) Mrs. Bal had told Morgan Bennett +in so many words that Barrie was practically engaged to me. After a +week's trip in my society it was to be expected that she would arrive in +Glasgow to ask her elder sister's blessing.</p> + +<p>This, Aline thought, necessitated our getting off at once, lest Bennett +should contrive to meet the girl alone somehow, and question her. If he +did this, the "fat would be in the fire" for Mrs. Bal, and perhaps for +me too.</p> + +<p>"The sooner the better," said I; for I was impatient to spirit the girl +away from Somerled, and turn her thoughts from him to me. If I prayed to +the heather moon for help, I felt that I ought to succeed; for the man +who can have a girl of eighteen to himself (not counting a few chaperons +lying about loose) in a motor-car for a week, passing through the +loveliest country in the world, and can't make her forget for his sake +some other fellow she's known only a few hours longer, must be a born +duffer. This I dinned into my consciousness.</p> + +<p>It was to be my first real chance with Barrie; and though never in my +life before have I made serious love to any flesh-and-blood girl, I've +made so much with my pen to the most difficult and diverse heroines, +that I had a certain belief in my own powers, once they had free play.</p> + +<p>The second thing that happened this morning of happenings, however, was +a slight setback, just enough of a setback to let me see that the +heather moon is a goddess who exacts more wooing from her votaries than +I had given. Or else, that she has her favourites, and is more ready to +look with a kindly eye on a man born to the heather than one who comes +from afar to write it up.</p> + +<p>Barrie, it appeared, had had a "scene" with Barbara. She had insisted +with tears and (according to Mrs. Bal) stampings of foot, that she +<i>would</i> go to the Waverley station with Mrs. James and see her off for +Carlisle.</p> + +<p>Mrs. James was to be taken to the train by Somerled, in his car; and as +no one but Barrie had been invited, this meant that the girl would +return with him alone. To be sure, it would not take five minutes for +the Gray Dragon to slip from the Waverley end of Princes Street back to +the Caledonian. On the other hand, it was evident that Mrs. James must +have a special reason for choosing the Waverley station, when she could +just as well have gone from our own; and Aline and I could see only one. +Somerled wanted to snatch five minutes alone with Barrie; and he was not +the man to waste a single one of the five. The question was, what use +did he intend to make of his time? None of us could guess, for Somerled +is a puzzle too hard to read. Not even Aline (who was so nervous that, +figuratively speaking, she started at every sound in the enemy's camp) +believed that Somerled would try to run away with the girl. I soothed +her by saying that I thought it very doubtful whether Somerled would ask +the girl to marry him, even if everything were in his favour. I still +tried to believe that in his opinion she was too young and had seen too +little of life to settle down as a married woman. He might be in love +with her—to me it was beginning to seem impossible that a man could +know her and not be in love—but with a strong, self-controlled man of +Somerled's calibre, falling in love and marrying need not be the same +thing.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bal, after the "scene" (in which she too, apparently, played a +stormy part) had angrily consented to give Barrie her own way, but only +on the girl's threat to decline making the trip with us, if thwarted. +Something in Barrie's eyes had warned the lady not to go too far, and on +her promise to return directly Mrs. James had gone, Mrs. Bal sulkily +waived her objections.</p> + +<p>"Why don't you, too, see Mrs. James off?" suggested Aline. "You've been +great friends. She ought to be complimented. And you might take her some +flowers. That would please Barrie, who is now worshipping Ian as a tin +saint on wheels because he has found Mrs. James's husband and offered to +finance him to success. You ought to do <i>something</i>."</p> + +<p>I thought this a good idea, and on the top of it had one of my own, +which I didn't mention to Aline, lest it should fail. Not only did I buy +flowers, the prettiest and most expensive I could find (worthy of Barrie +or Mrs. Bal), but a box of sweets, another of Scotch shortbread, a few +cairngorm brooches, and amethyst and silver thistles picked up at +random, and a copy of Aline's and my last book which I found (well +displayed) on the station book-stall. When Aline sees only one copy she +will not buy it, as she thinks it a pity the book should disappear from +public view; but this was an occasion of importance, and I didn't +hesitate to pluck the last fruit from the bough.</p> + +<p>When Mrs. James, Barrie, and Somerled arrived (Vedder being left in +charge of the car) there was I waiting, laden with offerings. I stuck to +the party till the end, waving my farewell as the train slowly moved +out, and then I summoned up courage (or impudence, depending on the +point of view) to ask if Somerled would take me back. "I walked here," I +said, "so as to do my little shopping for Mrs. James, and I came so fast +I've hardly got my breath back."</p> + +<p>I was prepared for some excuse to keep me out of the car; but I wronged +Somerled. If any one looked disappointed it was Barrie, not he. He said, +"Certainly; with pleasure," and there was nothing in his voice to +contradict the courtesy of his words.</p> + +<p>Thus, with surprising ease, I robbed him of the five minutes alone with +Barrie which he had planned. And though she sat in front with him—as +she had come, perhaps—and I was alone in my glory behind, they could +have no private conversation.</p> + +<p>When I went up to bid Aline good-bye (we were starting soon for +Linlithgow and Stirling), I told her of my small triumph; but it gave +her no great pleasure.</p> + +<p>"How do we know what he said to the girl going to the train?" she asked +suspiciously. "If there's anything up, it's certain that James woman is +in it. I'm sure she's warned Ian against you and me as well as Mrs. Bal. +She's as shrewd as a gimlet in her own funny way. You've remarked that +yourself. And she worships Ian, and thinks Barrie a little angel +abandoned in a wicked world. So if Ian wanted to talk, he wouldn't mind +Mrs. James. You'd better keep your eyes open this week, and notice +whether the girl seems dreamy and absent-minded, as if she expected +something to happen—something they may have arranged between them this +morning."</p> + +<p>I assured Aline that I needed no urging to keep my eyes on Barrie. She +then told me for the second time that she intended joining our party as +soon as Somerled left Edinburgh to follow us, as—she thought—he surely +would. "He wouldn't have gone a step while that girl was here with Mrs. +Bal," she exclaimed, almost fiercely, "but in spite of all he's said +about seeing old landmarks and looking up old friends, he'll be off +after you when you've taken Barrie away. Anyhow, I'm going to see +something of him while he's here if I can, for we are friends! He's +supposed to have forgiven me, and he can't refuse to come and cheer up +the invalid. I shall do the very best I can for myself—and when I find +he means to be off I shall mention casually, as a kind of coincidence, +that I'm going too, the same day, to join you; that you've wired or +something, and that Maud Vanneck and her husband have accepted an +invitation from Morgan Bennett to visit his sister, at that Round House +Mrs. Bal talked of. Perhaps Ian will offer to take me with him. I do +hope so. But I can't ask."</p> + +<p>As a matter of fact, poor Aline had racked her brains how to dispose of +the married Vannecks when she should be ready to take her place in +Blunderbore. As for George, she wished to keep and play with him, of +course, partly for her own amusement, partly for the moral effect upon +Somerled; but she didn't want to offend his brother and sister-in-law. +Still, they had to be got rid of eventually, as Blunderbore, with all +the faults of Noah's ark, has not the ark's accommodation for man and +beast. It was a happy thought to angle for an invitation, through Mrs. +Bal, for a few days at the Round House, as Maud Vanneck particularly +desired to see "Scottish life in a private family"; and it didn't occur +to her that a shooting-lodge hired by an American millionaire would not +be the ideal way of accomplishing her object.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bal was not out of her room when we were ready to start, at eleven, +so I did not see her again; but the plainest, oldest, and carrotiest of +the three red-headed maids primly accompanied Barrie to the hotel door +with hand-luggage. By this time Blunderbore was puffing heavily in +feigned eagerness to be off, and Salomon, its owner and chauffeur, +shabby and sulky as usual, was giving the car a few last oily caresses +which should have been bestowed long ago in the privacy of the garage. +Have I forgotten to mention in these rambling notes that Somerled's +Vedder regards our Salomon with a silent yet plainly visible contempt, +akin to nausea? Whenever they happen to be thrown together for a few +minutes I see the smart-liveried Vedder criticizing with his mysterious +eyes the mean features of the weedy Salomon; his weak face with the +curious, splay mouth that falls far apart in speaking, almost as if the +jaw were broken; his old cloth cap, and his thin, short figure loosely +wrapped in a long, linen dust coat. Neither Aline nor I have had the +courage to remonstrate with Salomon on his get up, but when Vedder +regards him I burn with the desire to discharge the creature and his +car, despite our contract for a month.</p> + +<p>Barrie and I being on the spot, we could have got off, if the +Vannecks—invariably late—had not been missing. In desperation I dashed +into the hotel to look for them, and returned to find Somerled deep in +conversation with Barrie, who was in the car. I had left her standing in +the hotel doorway, with Mrs. Bal's maid: so Somerled in some way must +have caused that maid to disappear, and had then forestalled me by +helping Barrie into my car, tucking her comfortably in with the prettier +of my two rugs.</p> + +<p>I was just in time to hear him say "we shall meet"—but where and when +the meeting was to be, I did not know. That was the last of him for the +moment, however, as I had secured the two Vannecks, and we lumbered off +along the good, clear road to Linlithgow. Now it was "up to me" to make +my running with Barrie.</p> + +<p>I like driving, though in traffic I am secretly nervous; but as +Blunderbore provides no convenient perch for the chauffeur, and as +Salomon trusts no man except himself, he took the wheel, and I was free +to sit behind with my three guests.</p> + +<p>I'd been wondering what Barrie's mood would be, for I felt in my bones +that she was coming with us much against her will. She had not wanted to +leave Edinburgh, and I was sure that she could only have resigned +herself to doing so with Somerled and his Gray Dragon. I asked myself +whether she guessed, or whether Mrs. James had put it into her head, +that Aline and I had combined against what the girl no doubt believed to +be her "interests." I thought it not improbable that she would openly +show her distaste for the trip. As we went on, however, I began to +realize that Barrie had changed subtly in the days since meeting her +mother. She seemed suddenly to have grown up, to have become a woman.</p> + +<p>Was it the heart-breaking disappointment Mrs. Bal's reception had given +her? Or was it the five proposals of marriage flung at her head by those +mad young men who were now—thank goodness!—being left behind us, to +"dree their own wierds?" Or was it something quite different—something +which she and the heather moon alone knew?</p> + +<p>In any case, she was quiet, even dignified in her youthful way, very +polite and agreeable to the Vannecks and to me. I might have flattered +myself that she was happy enough, and glad of my society, if I hadn't +reflected that to sulk visibly would have been to blame Mrs. Bal. +Already I knew that loyalty was one of Barrie's everyday virtues. +Barbara could do no wrong!</p> + +<p>While the road (though good, and historic every step of the way) +remained unalluring to the eye, we chatted about Edinburgh, Barrie +rejoicing in having seen as much as she had before leaving the town. She +had browsed a little among the thrilling shops of Princes Street. With +one eye, so to speak, cocked up at the towering Castle Rock, with the +other she had scanned the gardens, Scott's monument, and everything else +worth seeing; then, with a sudden pounce, she had concentrated her gaze +on immense plate glass windows displaying Scottish jewellery, Scottish +books, Scottish cakes, and (to her) irrelevant Scottish tartans. Even +without need of them, their witching attraction had hypnotized her to +buy many of these things.</p> + +<p>"I don't know exactly what I shall do with them," she said; "but I'm +glad I've got them all, and I wish I had more!"</p> + +<p>It was Mrs. James who had been with her in her triumphal progress +through Princes Street; but it was I who had escorted her the whole +wonderful, sordid, glorious, pitiful length of the old High Street, the +Royal Mile of gorgeous ghosts. I had been there to see her face as she +caught glimpses of dark wynds where long ago men had fought to the death +and helped make history, where now colourful yet faded rags hang like +ancient banners, from iron frames, giving a fantastic likeness to side +streets of Naples: I had pointed out to her the stones which marked the +place where famous ones had murdered or been murdered, or had sought +sanctuary from murder. I had taken her all over the house of John Knox. +Together we had admired the oak carving in the room where he ate his +simple meals; and together we looked from the little window whence he +had poured his burning floods of eloquence upon the heads of the crowd +below. In the curiosity shop downstairs I had bought her a silver Heart +of Midlothian. She had stared into the rich dark shadows whence start +out, spirit-like, faces of old oil pictures, faces of old clocks, faces +of old marble busts; and she had been so charmed by the soft voice of +the young saleswoman, whose flute-like tones would lure gold from a +miser's pocket, that she would have collected half the things in the +shop if she had had the money. I wanted to give her bits of old +jewellery and miniatures of Queen Mary and Prince Charlie which she +fancied, but she would accept only the silver Heart of Midlothian, which +cost no more than a few shillings; and to-day, as I took her away from +Edinburgh, she was not wearing the little ornament, as I had hoped she +might.</p> + +<p>As the road grew prettier, we tore our thoughts away from Edinburgh, and +gave them to the highway illumined by history. At least, Barrie gave +hers, while I lent as many of mine as I could spare from her. And I had +to keep my wits about me, if I were to live up to the regulation of +Know-All I'd evidently attained in her eyes.</p> + +<p>In Linlithgow we expected to see at once the famous palace where Queen +Mary was born, but nothing was visible in what the French would call the +<i>place</i>, except the Town House, a new statue, and a graceful copy of an +old fountain. We had to turn up an unpromising side street to find at +last a beautiful little gateway between dumpy octagonal towers, such as +the old masters loved to put in the background of their pictures. +Passing through was like walking into one of those pictures, getting +round the hidden corner as one always longs to do on canvas. Before our +eyes rose majestically the colossal shell of a palace, with carved +golden walls, a vast courtyard, cyclopean round towers, and wonderful +windows full of sky and dreams. Close by was the noble church where +James IV had his vision warning him not to go to war with England.</p> + +<p>Somerled had talked to Barrie about Linlithgow, doubtless in the hope of +making her think of him when there. He had called it the "finest +domestic architectural ruin in all Scotland," and told her of Lord +Rosebery's suggestion to restore and make of it a great national museum. +I was glad for every reason that Somerled wasn't with us, and, for one, +because he would have overshadowed me entirely with his knowledge of +architecture, which he contrives to use picturesquely, not ponderously. +All I could do was to rhapsodize in a way Barrie likes well enough when +she can get nothing better, painting for her a rough word-picture of the +palace in days when rich gilding still glittered on the quaint wall +statues, when crystal jets spouted from the lovely fountain, green with +moss now as with thick verdigris—when knights in armour rode into the +quadrangle to be welcomed by fair ladies, while varlets led tired horses +to distant stables. Those were the days when the Livingstons were +keepers of the palace for the King, long before they lost their lands +and titles for love of Prince Charlie; days when the memory of Will +Binnock was honoured still, that "stout earle" who helped wrest +Linlithgow from English Edward's men by smuggling soldiers into the +palace precincts, concealed in a load of hay.</p> + +<p>We wandered almost sadly through the splendid rooms where Queen Mary +first saw the light, the week her father died: through "the King's +room," with its secret staircase under a trap door, and its view over a +blue lake where swans floated like winged water-lilies. Then, when we +had bought a specially bound copy of "Marmion" (which ought to be read +at Linlithgow), and post cards and souvenirs that seemed important at +the moment and useless afterward, we took the road to Stirling.</p> + +<p>There was no time to stop in Falkirk (when is there ever time to stop in +motoring?), for the car was running unusually well for Blunderbore. So +instead of pausing to meditate over battle scenes, as Vanneck pretended +he wished to do, we sailed through the long, straight street which seems +practically to constitute the town. Here we had almost our first glimpse +of industrial Scotland as opposed to picturesque Scotland, which was in +these August days becoming the playground of Britain and America. +Falkirk is a coalfield as well as a battlefield, and the murk of +collieries and iron works darkens the sky as once did the smoke of +gunpowder: but the place holds its old interest for the mind; and not +far off we came to the Wallace Monument; then to Bannockburn. Because of +Barrie's love for the Bruce, we got out and walked to the Bore Stone +where he stood to direct the battle so fatal to the English. After this +we were close to St. Ninian's, and to Stirling, though the day was still +young; but there was lots to see, and I wanted to go on before dusk, to +spend the night in Crieff. We lunched at one of those nice old-fashioned +hotels whose heraldic names alone are worth the money; and as we started +on foot to walk through the ancient town and mount to its high crown, +the Castle, I began to appreciate Aline's arrangements for my benefit.</p> + +<p>Maud Vanneck being a model of wifely jealousy, kept Fred to herself, and +Barrie was my companion. This was delightful. No such good thing had +come to me since making her acquaintance. On the way up the quaint, +steep street, there came a shower of rain, and I had to shelter her with +my umbrella. It was an umbrella of blessedly mean proportions, which +meant that she must keep close to my side, and I said, "Come what may I +shall have this and a few other things to remember!"</p> + +<p>Up in the Castle, we two decided that we had after all made a mistake in +calling Edinburgh Castle Scotland's heart. Here was that organ, and we +could almost feel it throbbing under our feet. We forgot that we had +selected several other hearts for Scotland. Here was the right one at +last!</p> + +<p>What a view to look out upon, with the One Girl by your side! Over our +heads and far away, clouds turned the rolling mountains to snowpeaks +that dazzled in the sun, and under our eyes seemed to lie all Scotland, +spread out like a vast brocaded mantle of many colours: the plain of the +Forth, the Ochil hills and the hills of Fife; the purple peaks round +Loch Lomond, and here and there a glitter of water like broken glass on +a floor of gold. Ten counties we could see, and eight great battlefields +which helped to make Scotland what it is. The horizon was carved in +shapes of azure—strange, wild, mountainous shapes; and the noble heads +of Ben Lomond, Ben Ledi, and Ben A'an were laurelled and jewelled for us +by memories of Scott.</p> + +<p>Sitting where Queen Mary sat on her velvet cushions, and looking through +her peephole in the thick stone wall, I was almost irresistibly tempted +to make love to Barrie. My heart so went out to her that it seemed she +must respond: and the Vannecks had wandered to another part of the +battlements; but she kept me to my task of cicerone. I had to answer a +dozen questions. I had to tell her about Agricola forging his chain of +forts across the narrow land between the Clyde, and the Forth "that +bridles the wild Highlander." She would be satisfied with nothing less +than the unabridged stories of Edward I's siege of this "gray bulwark of +the North," the murder of the powerful Douglas by his treacherous host +King James II; the building of and the mysterious curse upon Mar's Work, +and twenty other human documents not half so moving, had she but known +it, as the story of Basil Norman's first and only love. Once or twice I +thought she guessed that I wished to speak of myself and her, and that +she deliberately held me at arm's length, like a young person of the +world dealing with an ineligible at the end of her second season. I +almost hated King Edward, and more especially Agricola!</p> + +<p>Then, worst of all, before we had half finished our tour of the Castle +and its wonders, rain began to fall out of one cloud stationed directly +over our heads in the midst of a sun-bright sky. I could almost have +believed that Somerled in spite had sent it after us, like a wet +blood-hound to track us down. We took shelter in the room where the +Douglas was murdered; and who could make love against such a background? +Not I: though perhaps gay King James V might have been equal to it. One +does not hear that any ghost dogged his footsteps as he crept joyously +in disguise out from that dark little chamber into the subterranean +passage, which led the "Guid man of Ballangeich" to his Haroun +Al-raschid adventures in the night.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The next few days live in my memory as dreams live. They were beautiful. +They would have been more beautiful if I could have flattered myself +that Barrie was learning to care for me in the way she might have cared +for Somerled, if we had left them in peace. But she was always the +same—except that, as the world grew more enchanting in beauty and +poetic associations, she blossomed into a sweet expansiveness, losing +the reserve in which she had been veiled when first we started.</p> + +<p>It ought to have been ideal, this moving from scene to scene with the +one girl I ever wanted for my own, since I was thirteen and worshipped a +tank mermaid in green spangles. That was the hard part! It ought to have +been ideal and—it wasn't. I should think a rather well meaning Saracen +chieftain who had captured a Christian maiden might have felt somewhat +as I felt from day to day. He had got her. She couldn't escape from him +and his fortress; but, even with her hand in his, she contrived to elude +him.</p> + +<p>So it was with me. Old Blunderbore went well on the whole, not counting +a few minor ailments of second childhood which attacked him occasionally +when he saw a stiff hill ahead, or when he had heard me say I was in a +hurry. The Vannecks were perfection as chaperons, not through +supernatural tact and unselfishness, but because Maud feared the effect +upon Fred of too much Barrie. She laid herself out to charm her husband. +Never an "I told you so!" Never a nagging word or look. She chatted to +Fred in the car, and saw sights with him out of the car. This, she said, +was almost like a second honeymoon. But of the heather moon she had +never heard. It was ours—Barrie's and mine: yet I could not induce the +girl to speak of it. For all she would say, she might have forgotten its +existence. Always, especially when the heather moon tried to give us its +golden blessing, an invisible presence seemed to stand between us, as if +Somerled had sent his astral body to keep us apart.</p> + +<p>As to Somerled in the flesh, there was a mystery at this time. To me at +Perth came a telegram from Aline saying:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"S. has left his car and chauffeur here and gone away without a +word to any one. Has he come after you? Wire immediately."</p></div> + +<p>I obeyed, replying:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Seen and heard nothing of S. Will let you have all news. Hope you +will do the same by me. Am sending you our route, but suppose you +will arrive in few days."</p></div> + +<p>Her answer came to St. Andrews, at a jolly, golfing sort of hotel where +I ought to have been as happy as the day was long.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"As S. has not joined you prefer stop on here. Eyes not well yet. +Mr. Bennett's sister has influenza. She would prefer Maud and Fred +visit Round House later—say toward end of next week."</p></div> + +<p>I had no faith in that attack of influenza. The microbe was probably +hatched in conversation between Aline and Mrs. Bal, who had by this time +become tremendous allies. My theory was that Aline, knowing Somerled not +to be near Barrie, had settled down to enjoy the fleeting moment. She +might not be happy, but I could understand that the society of Mrs. Bal +(who evidently wanted her) was preferable to motoring with a brother, +and a girl of whom she was jealous.</p> + +<p>The same day came a long expensive wire to Barrie from her mother:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"So sorry darling but unfortunately must put you off. Don't come +first of Glasgow week. Wait till Saturday, arriving late afternoon +or evening. Mrs. West says her friends and brother will like +keeping you till then so you needn't worry. We can have nice visit +together later and settle everything for you in some delightful +way. Making plans now. Don't forget you for a moment. Best reasons +for delay. Will explain when we meet. Sending you letter with +little present of money. Don't stint yourself. Write often. Tell me +all that interests you. Ever your loving Barbara."</p></div> + +<p>"Why do you suppose she can't have me the first of the week?" Barrie +asked piteously, when she had shown this message.</p> + +<p>"I can't say, I'm sure," I cautiously replied. This was literally true. +I could not say: but I could guess. And a letter from Aline which came +two or three days later, confirmed my Sherlockian deductions.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"My <span class="smcap">dear old Boy</span>" [she wrote]: "I was so glad to get your +telegram, and meant to have written at once, but waited on second +thoughts to have a little more news. It is a relief to know that +Ian hasn't followed that girl. Of course I feel it as much for your +sake as my own, for he is a dangerous rival to any man. It <i>is</i> odd +where he can have gone; though he may turn up here again any day, +as he has left his car and chauffeur. If he had wanted to be nice, +he might have offered me the use of both while he was away; but I +suppose he blames me for lending myself to Mrs. Bal's wishes about +Barrie. Very unreasonable of him, as you have a perfect right to do +what you like with the car you've hired, and if Mrs. Bal didn't +want her daughter to see too much of <i>him</i>, what fault is it of +mine?</p> + +<p>"I try to amuse myself as well as I can and forget my worries, +however, and Mrs. Bal and Morgan Bennett are being very nice. I +don't think he's proposed yet, or she would have told me, for we're +great friends; but she's pretty sure to land him before he leaves +for America, as he is to do the end of her Glasgow week, for a +short business trip. I expect to be asked to congratulate them the +night before he sails! What a good thing for her and <i>every one</i> +that the Vannecks can stand by you longer than we planned. I think, +unless you wire me that Ian has appeared upon the scene, I'll stay +with Mrs. Bal for her Glasgow week, as she has invited me, and +then, when the Vannecks go to the Round House, you can bring Barrie +back to her mother."</p></div> + +<p>This explained Mrs. Bal's "best of reasons."</p> + +<p>Days went on, and Somerled did not come to our part of the world, which +was by this time the heart of the Highlands; but I felt in my bones that +Barrie was hearing from him, writing to him; that she knew what I did +not know, the mystery of his absence. Of course I could have found out +if she were receiving letters from him, for Somerled's handwriting is +unmistakable; but villain or no villain, I had to draw the line +somewhere, and I drew it at spying upon her.</p> + +<p>Aline did go to Glasgow with Mrs. Bal. She wrote to tell me how, with +Morgan Bennett in his biggest motor-car, "<i>much</i> higher powered and +smarter than poor Ian's," she and Mrs. Bal and George Vanneck had sped +away from Edinburgh on Sunday morning early, had a look at their rooms +in Glasgow, and dashed on to Arrochar, where they all stopped till +Monday afternoon.</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Such an exquisite road!" [said Aline]. "You would have loved it. +High green bank on one side, with cataracts of bracken delicate as +maidenhair; dark rocks, wrapped in velvet moss. Trees holding up +screens of green lace between your eyes and the blue water of the +loch. Pebbles white and round as pearls, or silver coins dropped by +fairies in a big "flit." That's one of <i>your</i> similes! Grass +running down to the edge of the water, and full of bluebells. Water +the colour of drowned wallflowers. I don't believe your Highland +lochs can be prettier or more idyllic, though this is so close to +Glasgow.</p> + +<p>"We have had a day going through the Kyles of Bute, too—the same +party: and a marvellous run along the shores of the Clyde to +Skelmorlie. Such red rocks there, and even the sand red. There was +a pink haze over everything, like a perpetual sunset. I'm not sure +which was better, that, or a trip to Crinan. The dearest little +place at the end of the Crinan canal—just a flower-draped hotel, +and a sea-wall and a lighthouse, with a distant murmur of +'Corrievrechan's tortured roar,' mingled with the crying of gulls. +What a place for you and Barrie to spend your honeymoon! You see, I +speak as if it were certain. Anyhow, I'm sure it all depends on +yourself. <i>Courage, mon brave</i>!"</p></div> + +<p>But that is exactly the quality which the villain of the piece lacks at +present.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="BOOK_IV" id="BOOK_IV"></a>BOOK IV</h2> + +<h3>WHAT BECAME OF BARRIE</h3> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Id" id="Id"></a>I</h2> + +<p>Letter From Barrie Macdonald To Ian Somerled Macdonald</p> + + +<div class="blockquot"><p>DEAR SIR KNIGHT: I was glad the morning we saw Mrs. James off that +you said you'd like to hear from me, and if I needed help or +comfort in any trouble I must let you know. I haven't such an +excuse for writing to you now, but you did say that you wanted to +hear anyway, and that you'd find out where we were going, so you +could wire me your plans. Now I've had two telegrams from you, and +a letter; and if they hadn't come I should have been disappointed. +I thought we might have seen you and the Gray Dragon before this, +but the telegrams have made me understand. That is, I <i>don't</i> +understand, because what you tell me sounds very mysterious. Still, +as you went back to Carlisle and are now in London, it is no use +hoping to see the Gray Dragon's bonnet flash into sight round some +complicated Highland corner.</p> + +<p>What <i>could</i> have taken you to call on Grandma again? I am almost +dying of curiosity. You say 'perhaps you may be able to explain +when we meet': but everybody is saying that to me, just now—at +least, Barbara is, about not letting me go back to Glasgow till the +end of her week there—so it is rather aggravating. Still, it is +good to know that we may meet. I wonder when? You don't give me a +hint, and it stirs up my curiosity from deeper depths to be told, +as if you half expected me to guess what you mean, that 'you're in +London for reinforcements.' Shall I ever know? It seems a long time +since I said good-bye to you in front of the Caledonian Hotel. Not +that I'm having a dull trip. I should be very dull myself if that +were true, for everything is beautiful, and every one kind. It is +the most wonderful luck for a girl like me, who had never seen +anything in her life, suddenly to be seeing all Scotland. But I had +grown rather <i>used</i> to seeing things with you and Mrs. James, after +I escaped from the 'glass retort,' and I can't accustom myself yet +to being with others, and you far away—Mrs. James too, of course. +I try to console myself if I feel a tiny bit homesick, thinking how +happy she is, and how wonderful everything is going to be for her +and her strange, unpractical doctor. It was splendid of you to give +him all that money. But wouldn't it have been fun if he could have +come over, instead of her going to him? Maybe, if it had turned out +so, you would be in the Highlands now.</p> + +<p>Do you remember how I used to say that <i>my</i> tour under the heather +moon would soon be over, but you would be going on just as if we +had never met? Well, it has turned out quite differently, hasn't +it, for both of us? Only the heather moon is the same. But I never +talk of her now that you are gone.</p> + +<p>I don't want you to think I am ungrateful to <i>any one</i>, if I sign +myself, Your rather homesick little 'princess,'</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1"><span class="smcap">Barrie</span>.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>P.S.—It does not seem right to have crossed over the borderline +into our Highlands without you!</p></div> + + +<p>LETTER FROM BARRIE TO HER MOTHER</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">Dearest, darling Barbara</span>: Can it really be that it won't +bother you to have me write to you often and tell you everything +interesting that happens? You see, I might think it interesting, +and you might think it a bore. I know you are easily bored, dear, +so I am not quite sure what I ought to write. I can only tell you +about seeing places, because that is all we do. But they are so +beautiful, perhaps you may like to hear. If I write about the wrong +things, do promise that you'll speak out and tell me to stop. I +won't let my feelings be hurt.</p> + +<p>Basil is trying to show me as much of Scotland as he possibly can, +he says, before I 'get tired of him and Blunderbore.' That is a bad +way to put it, and so I have told him, because I should be horribly +ungrateful to tire of him. But he says he dislikes gratitude and +thinks it an overestimated virtue.</p> + +<p>I suppose you have often been in Scotland before, and you are not +Scottish yourself, so perhaps you can't quite feel as I do about +it. Basil, who has travelled so much, says that Scotland has in +miniature almost all the picked bits of scenery of other countries; +but they do not <i>appear</i> to be in miniature when you're motoring +through them. They seem on an enormous scale; and each beauty spot +is different from every other. You can't help remembering and +keeping them apart in your mind, though there are so many that they +are crowded together, all over the map. I think of the map of +Scotland being purple, like heather, don't you? And if I have to +live anywhere else, I shall always be homesick for this country +now. If we are not in some fairy-like, green glen, we are in a wild +and awesome mountain pass; or else in a blue labyrinth of lochs; or +we come out upon endless, billowing moorlands; or suddenly we find +ourselves on a long road like an avenue in some great private park, +with the singing of a river in our ears.</p> + +<p>Poor Basil sometimes feels ashamed of Blunderbore, and certainly +it <i>is</i> different from travelling in Mr. Somerled's Gray Dragon. +With the Dragon, spirits of the wind used to rush out of forests to +meet and dash ozone in our faces. With Blunderbore, if they come at +all, they merely spray us lazily.</p> + +<p>Going from Stirling to Crieff we crossed the borderline of the +Highlands. There was a park-like world round the Bridge of Allan: +and at Ardoch, the greatest Roman station left in Britain, lots of +turfed banks showing still where 26,000 Romans tried to bridle the +Northern Caledonians, the red-haired people. I'm glad they never +quite succeeded!</p> + +<p>Crieff was sweet, and all round it, half hidden in woods, the most +beautiful houses. But Basil had forgotten to wire, so we couldn't +get into one of the nice hotels, but stayed in a very funny one. +When Mrs. Vanneck asked for communicating rooms, the landlady said, +'Oh, <i>no</i>, Madam, we've no such things as <i>that</i> in <i>our</i> house!'</p> + +<p>We went on to Perth early next morning, and every minute along the +road we seemed to be passing happy people who'd come to play in +Scotland: nice golfing girls and men, and men with guns over their +shoulders, or followed by gillies with fishing-tackle. I wish men +could amuse themselves, though, don't you, without killing +creatures more beautiful and happy than themselves?</p> + +<p>It was such a pretty road, past Methven, where, alas! the English +beat Bruce; and if I hadn't been grieved to find that by John +Knox's advice all the nicest buildings had been pulled down, I +shouldn't have felt disappointed in Perth. It is a very fine town +anyhow, with glorious trees; and the two great bridges over the Tay +are splendid if they <i>are</i> made of iron. They look as if people had +planned them especially to give all the view there could be of the +sunset.</p> + +<p>Of course the 'Fair Maid's' house was the most interesting thing. +I hope it really was hers. I don't see why not. It <i>is</i> in the old +glover's quarter. And the shrine with the crucifix and death's head +and cross-bones they found hidden in the wall of her room is too +fascinating. I could just see her praying there, so beautiful that +all the young men of Perth were in love with her. And talking of +the young men of Perth, Basil says the ball in the Games Week is +supposed to be the best show of the year—such splendid men come. I +should love to see them in the kilt, with their brown knees, like +the pipers in Edinburgh.</p> + +<p>St. Andrews was our next place, and we arrived the same day, for +we didn't stop in Perth after we had seen the sights there. I +wonder if you have been to St. Andrews? I know so little about you +yet, dearest. I fell in love with the place—not so much with the +links (though they must be the most beautiful as well as the most +famous in the world) as with that old ruined castle built on the +dark rocks rising out of the sea. I know I shall dream of the +awful, bottle-necked dungeon! Basil said it was the worst thing he +had ever seen except at Loches. I hope it isn't wicked to be +pleased that Cardinal Beaton, after he sat in his window to watch +Wishart burn, was soon killed, and salted, and preserved in the +same dungeon where he used to keep martyrs. The 'undergrads' of the +University looked so attractive in their red gowns, and the girl +students in their mortar boards! They were like scarlet birds, +against the gray walls and gray arches of the town. But I suppose +people in St. Andrews think even more about golf than about +learning, don't they? There were hundreds of all ages on the +links—so grave and eager: and at the hotels they <i>never</i> know when +anybody will come in to meals. There's the cemetery, too; that +shows the importance of golf. All the 'smartest' monuments are of +famous golfers, knitted caps and clubs and everything, neatly done +in marble. But I wonder anybody ever contrives to die at St. +Andrews. I never felt such delicious air!</p> + +<p>Crossing the ferry for Dundee was fun. It was a very big boat, and +several other motors on it as well as ours. We sat in Blunderbore +all the way across the wide sheet of silver that was the Tay, +gazing up at the marvellous giant bridge, and then we spent several +hours in Dundee, seeing the Steeple, and Queen Mary's Orchard, and +lots of things. This was so near the Round House that I suppose the +Vannecks would have gone if it hadn't been for me. But I am the +stumbling block in everybody's way.</p> + +<p>Going on to Aberdeen, we ran along a fine coast dotted with ruined +castles—Dunottar for one, where the Regalia was hidden once.</p> + +<p>We stopped at Arbroath, which Doctor Johnson admired, to see the +great shell of an Abbey, red as dried blood; and all the old town +is built out of it, so no wonder there isn't much left but an +immense nave. But just think, Arbroath is Sir Walter Scott's +'Fairport,' and I must read "The Antiquarian" again, all about the +caves and the secret treasure found in them. As for the treasure of +the Abbey, it is nothing less than the heart of William the Lion. +He had it nicely buried near the high altar, as long ago as the +twelfth century, wasn't it? But in 1810 they dug it up, found it +had ossified, and now they simply have it lying about in a glass +case, practically mixed up with the bones of a lady who left money +to the Abbey (she wouldn't, if she'd known what they'd do!) and the +singularly long thigh bones of a particularly wicked earl. It was +an earl who married a sister of the Lion's, and, because he was +jealous, threw her out of the window.</p> + +<p>We had to go through Montrose, where the great Marquis was born, +and where Sir James Douglas set sail with the Bruce's heart (what a +lot of hearts there were travelling about then!) and where now the +most curiously exciting things are the Bridie Shops. I <i>had</i> to +know what a 'bridie' meant, so we stopped to see; but it's only a +rolled meat pasty they love in Forfarshire; and brides are supposed +to batten on them at their weddings. To please me, Basil would have +made a detour to see 'Thrums,' which is really Kerriemuir, you +know. And we should have had to pass through Forfar—the 'Witches +Har'—and go on the road that leads to mysterious, wonderful +Glamis. I was longing to do it, but Mrs. Vanneck wanted to arrive +in Aberdeen in time to do some shopping! I gave up like a lamb, +almost hating her inwardly; but afterward I felt better about it, +for the Aberdeen shops are so nice. They sell pink pearls, out of +Scottish rivers—perfect beauties. I bought you a brooch, and I do +hope you'll like it. I don't know much about such things; and of +course you have gorgeous jewellery; but this pearl is such a +wonderful colour, like snow touched with sunrise.</p> + +<p>My eyes and hair were full of granite by the time we got to +Aberdeen, because the road is made of it, and the dust sparkles +like diamonds.</p> + +<p>So does Aberdeen sparkle like diamonds. I shouldn't have thought a +city all gray like that, could be so handsome. But it is a gray +bright and silky as the wings of doves, and in some lights pale as +moonbeams. Sunset was beginning when we arrived, and on the houses +and bridges and river, and even on the pavements of the broad +streets, there was the same gray-pink sheen as on the pearl I +bought for you.</p> + +<p>In the morning we went to see the University, and the Cathedral +with its lovely rose-pink pillars, and old painted Scandinavian +ceiling. Everything would have passed off charmingly, if Basil had +not begun to be rather foolish and unlike himself, while he and I +were in the Cathedral together. Fortunately, an old friend of his +he hadn't seen for years, appeared unexpectedly at the critical +moment, and invited us to visit him near Aboyne. I hadn't quite +time to say 'no' to Basil definitely, and we haven't gone back to +the subject since, so I am hoping for the best. I used to think it +would be <i>heavenly</i> to have a proposal, but now, I realize that it +is much overrated.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Your loving<br /></span> +<span class="i1"><span class="smcap">Barrie</span>,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Who hopes she hasn't bored you.<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + + +<p>LETTER FROM BARRIE TO SOMERLED</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">Dear Sir Knight</span>: I must write to tell you what a surprise +I had in Aberdeen. Basil took us all to a biograph theatre—the +first one I ever saw—and one set of pictures was labelled, 'A +Gretna Green Wedding of the Olden Days.' How my heart beat!—and +not for nothing, because, oh, Sir Knight, it was <i>our</i> wedding! My +face never showed once, but the hair looked like mine; and <i>your</i> +face was just like yours and nobody else's, in spite of the +old-fashioned costume. Basil said out loud, 'By Jove!' and the +Vannecks recognized you, and asked all sorts of questions. I had to +tell them the story, but I didn't mind a bit. In fact, I think I +was proud. The pictures were coloured, so perhaps that was one +reason they guessed, for my hair was so red. I told Basil I always +wanted to be married at Gretna Green, and now I <i>have</i> been. But he +had the air of being rather <i>shocked</i>. I shouldn't have thought he +was that kind of person.</p> + +<p>Afterward, he was afraid that he had offended me; but I hadn't +cared at all. However, he has been kinder than ever since, as if to +make up. Walking about in the Cathedral next day, we met a +delightful man, actually the <i>Head of a Clan</i>, who had been in +Canada and had known Basil there. He invited us to visit at his +place near Aboyne, on Deeside—just think, not far from where +Macbeth was killed!—and of course that enchanted Mrs. Vanneck, who +has an insatiable yearning to see the inside of Scottish houses. +His is a beautiful house. I must tell you about it. Maybe you +remember the road from Aberdeen to Aboyne, through lovely forests +and mountains, and how by and by you come to Deeside, and the +Grampians. The Chieftain we went to visit owns a whole mountain, +and many miles of land besides; and when you arrive at his estate +there are no gates to drive into. You wind on and on, along an +exquisite avenue through the woods, and you would not know you were +on any one's property if you hadn't been told beforehand, though it +is all beautifully kept—not too smart and trim, but just right to +be picturesque and romantic. There's no impression of 'This is +mine, not yours. <i>You</i> are here only on sufferance!' Instead, the +trees and hills and heather seem to say gently, 'This is a part of +the world where our master lives, because it is lovely and he loves +it. He makes you welcome to come and go as you will, whoever you +are, as if it were your own.' Don't you think that is a charming +impression? And afterward we found out that the doors of this +Chieftain's house are never locked. Mostly in the summer they stand +wide open all night, although he has beautiful old silver, and +quantities of valuable pictures and things which have been in his +family more or less ever since there was a Scotland. It is a dear +old sixteenth-century house, with networks of black oak beams, and +lots of quaint bow-windows that look out on lovely lawns and +flower-gardens, and box or holly hedges, and yew trees cut in +fantastic shapes.</p> + +<p>We stayed one whole day and two nights. Wasn't it good of him to +have us? In all the corridors there are carpets and curtains of the +Chieftain's hunting tartan. I loved it. I do hope you have dogs' +heads and antlers, and tartan curtains and carpets and things at +your castle at Dhrum? It is yours, you know! I wonder if I shall +ever see it?</p> + +<p>I can't tell you how excited I was when the Chieftain and several +other Highland men he had staying in his house-party wore the kilt +to dinner. All their knees were baked to exactly the right brown; +but he was the smartest of the men (though some were very young and +handsome), because he, being the head of the Clan, had a green +velvet coat. Poor Basil and Mr. Vanneck in their ordinary evening +things looked like <i>nothing at all</i>. I was quite sorry for them, +but so glad I hadn't to sit by one at the table, as I wanted only +to talk to the kilted men. I wore that white frock you chose for +me—do you remember?—and a sash of the MacDonald of Dhrum dress +tartan, which I found in Aberdeen. All during dinner the pipers +piped, and I was so thrilled I could scarcely eat. Afterward there +was an impromptu dance in a bare, tartan-draped room, where it +seemed that Macbeth could quite well have been entertained. I +thought I should have to look on, of course, as I've never learned +to dance; but that dear Chieftain taught me the 'Petronella,' which +is very pretty and easy to pick up. It seems as if one could not +help dancing to the music of the pipes; don't you find it so? Queen +Mary is supposed to have introduced the Petronella to Scotland, the +tallest man with the brownest knees told me; and Francis I brought +it from Spain to France. It is quite a Spanish sort of dance, +though Scotland has adopted it. I learned a lovely Highland +schottische, too; and after I had seen others dancing the reels +(ought I to say foursomes or eightsomes?) I tried those too, and +got on well, everybody said. But the reel is a dance you can dance +<i>only</i> with your own hair. Mine, which I had pinned up very neatly, +came down. And one of the girls had a curl come <i>off</i>. Luckily she +didn't seem to care. She said that accidents would happen on the +best regulated heads.</p> + +<p>I do so wonder, by the way, what a Highlander would do if he +happened to be born with legs so crooked that he couldn't wear the +kilt? I suppose he would have to emigrate when very young, or else +stop in bed all his life.</p> + +<p>In the morning a dignified piper named Donal played us awake, +walking round and round the house. It delayed my dressing +dreadfully, pausing to gaze him out of sight every time he passed +under my window. I could have cried when he stopped; but he played +more while we had breakfast. I sat next to an Englishman, and would +you believe it, the loveliest lament got on his horrid nerves, and +he said in a low voice, 'Shall I be able to <i>live</i> through it?' If +I had been engaged to him I should have broken it off at once.</p> + +<p>The Chieftain has a friend who is a Princess—not a little +'pretend' princess like me, but a real one with a capital 'P'—and +he introduced us to her at a big garden party he was having at his +place on our day there. 'They are going on to Braemar to-morrow,' +he said; and she being as kind and hospitable as he, promptly +invited us to lunch with her at Braemar Castle. Mrs. Vanneck was +pale with joy!</p> + +<p>We left from the Chieftain's early in the morning, and Donal +played us away, on the best run Blunderbore has given us yet, +through what I am sure is true Highland scenery. There are castles +dotted about everywhere; and I saw my first Highland +cattle—adorable little shaggy beasts with forelocks like sporans, +and innocent short faces. Their eyes were so wide apart it seemed +that they might be able to see round all the corners. A cherubic +bull tried to charge Blunderbore, but changed his mind at the last +moment owing to the persuasions of his female friends. The rough, +dark brown forms somehow emphasized the beauty of the wild +background, the hills painted golden and purple with bracken and +heather, the mountains (for there seem always to be mountains in +the distance in Scotland) looking exactly the colour of violets +against the hyacinth blue of the sky. All sorts of Highland things +got in our way, counting deer; and I made up rules for creatures +which it would be very useful if they could be taught to obey. +'Bulls kindly requested not to charge motor-cars. No sitting down +or cud-chewing allowed in the middle of roads. Deer will please, +when darting across, start at least six yards ahead of motors. +Chickens will keep to their own side of the road when they have +chosen it three times. Rabbits not to run directly ahead of the car +for more than three miles at a stretch.'</p> + +<p>As we lumbered along with Blunderbore, each heather-dyed hill that +rolled out of our way disclosed a new, or rather a very old, +castle. I should think there must be as many castles in this part +of the world as there are cottages. I know we saw more! except +perhaps those sweet little dwellings grouped together in the +charming villages of Ballater and Braemar. No wonder the King and +Queen love this part of the world. Basil thought everything here +quite foreign-looking: but there's always that French spirit in +Scotland, isn't there? I'm sure the coffee is so good just because +of that.</p> + +<p>It was fun having luncheon at Braemar Castle, which has more +turrets than you can count without knowing it well. Each room +nearly has a turret, and some have two: and on the thick wooden +shutters names of soldiers quartered in the Castle after Prince +Charlie days are roughly carved. Of <i>course</i> there's a dungeon, and +a secret way to the far-off village and river: and when you enter +you have to wind up and up a tower stairway with here and there a +little deep-set iron-barred window to give you light. I wish you +could see the Princess's Persian dog, Mirzan, of the oldest race of +dogs in the world: yellow-white as old ivory, tall and thin and +graceful as a blowing plume. He takes strange attitudes like dogs +in pictures by old masters; and you feel he can't be real. He must +have stepped stealthily out from a dim tapestry hanging on one of +the thick stone walls, and he will have to go back to his place +beside the sleeping tapestry knight, as soon as he has finished +running after the doves, who have left their dovecote and are +balancing with their coral feet on the battlements, or walking in +the courtyard. Seeing this castle of the Princess's makes me quite +envy you having Dunelin. I should like to live in a castle. <i>Do</i> +buy Dunelin, as you said you sometimes thought of doing, and invite +me to be a humble little member of one of your big house-parties. +Your deserted princess, <span class="smcap">Barrie</span>.</p></div> + + +<p>LETTER FROM BARRIE TO HER MOTHER</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">Dearest Barbara</span>: Every prospect pleases and only man is +vile. At least, I don't mean vile, but upsetting. It is too bad +about Basil. I don't know what to do. I hope <i>you</i> aren't hoping +that I may fall in love with him? Something he said makes me think +<i>he</i> believes you want it. But why should you? You don't know him +and his sister so very well. They aren't old friends. Darling, if I +am a bother to you—and I know I am—I'll go far away and change my +name and do anything you like, except marry Basil. It isn't that +I'm too young. It seems to me if I loved a man desperately I should +like to marry him while I was young, so as to give him all my +years, and because I should grudge the days and weeks and months +lived away from him. But Basil is just like a brother. He might +hold my hand all day, and I shouldn't have a single thrill, which +he says is the way for a girl to find out whether she's really in +love.</p> + +<p>Everything might be so pleasant, if it weren't for this silliness. +We have seen Elgin, which has the most exquisite ruined Cathedral +that ever lived or died; and sweet Pluscarden Abbey not far off; +and Forres, full of memories of Macbeth; and a mysterious carved +shaft of sandstone called Sweno's Stone; and the hidden, secret +glen of the Findhorn River, where we had to get out, and walk for +miles through a gorge of the most entrancing beauty. Sometimes it +was wild and grand, sometimes peaceful as a dream of fairyland. +Every kind of lovely tree grew there, out of sheer, rocky walls red +as coral, or pale and glistening as gray satin; and you looked far +down on water brown as the brown of dogs' eyes—deep pools, and a +hundred rapids and tiny cataracts filling the glen with their +singing. But Mr. and Mrs. Vanneck would walk far ahead of us on the +steep narrow paths, which were so slippery I had to let Basil help +me, and it was most embarrassing and futile to keep refusing him +all the time. He says we were meant for each other, but I know +better!</p> + +<p>You remember, don't you, dear, I didn't want to take this trip? My +feeling must have been a presentiment.</p> + +<p>At Culloden Moor I couldn't help crying a little over Prince +Charlie and his brave Highlanders, for I think no other battlefield +can keep its sadness and romantic pathos, and its effect upon the +mind as that does. You know it's almost within sight and sound of +the sea; and the voice of the wind among the pines—dark, straight +ranks of pines like soldiers in mourning, standing in a +bloodstained sea of heather—seemed to me like the wail of ghostly +pipes playing a Highland lament. Wandering among the wavy graves +and piled cairns of the different clans who gave their lives in +vain for Prince Charlie, I was with Basil all alone, for those +wretched Vannecks would go off by themselves, as usual, in the most +marked way. He made me wipe my eyes with his handkerchief, and then +folded it up to 'keep forever.' He does choose the strangest places +to make love, and always contrives the minute the others go away, +to bring the subject round to that. Luckily we are all four +together in the car, as the chauffeur drives, but even there he +looks at me, which is quite getting on my nerves. Yesterday I asked +to sit in front, saying I wanted more air. It was after leaving +Inverness; and I had the best of it, quite by accident. It was a +horrid road, almost the only bad one we've had; full of flat holes +which the chauffeur called 'pans,' and the others, in the back of +the car, nearly had their spines come through the tops of their +heads. Strange what a difference there is, sitting in the driver's +seat! The bumping lasted all the way to Drumnadrochit, where we +turned away from a long, straight loch to mount up into lovely +strange country; then plunged down a steep hill to Invercannich—a +charming place ringed round with lovely, mysterious-looking +mountain-peaks which seem to say 'If we chose, we could tell you +the secret of Glen Affric, which we are hiding.'</p> + +<p>Isn't that an alluring name—Glen Affric? A little while ago I +should have wanted immensely to see it; but now whenever any one +proposes walking through a glen I always argue that it would be +better not.</p> + +<p>Last night we stopped at Strathpeffer, a gay and beautiful little +cure-town, which is like a walled flower-garden set down in the +midst of wild and stern Caledonia. The mountains are the walls; and +heather flows round them and beats against them like a purple +ocean. It is so foreign looking that it reminded Basil of Baden +Baden. Now we are going on into Ross-shire, which Basil describes +as a country of moorlands and great spaces where red deer live. But +already we have seen deer walking quite calmly out of the forests +on to our road, where they stop to gaze quizzically, without the +least fear, at the car. It is almost as if they took it for a +brother-animal. To-night we shall be at Loch Maree, and of course +you won't get this in time to telegraph there. But perhaps you +might wire to Ballachulish, where we shall be to-morrow. Do, +dearest, and tell me to come back to you. In spite of all the +loveliness, I can't stand this much longer, for I cannot make Basil +stop without being really <i>rude</i> to him. You needn't keep me more +than a day if it's inconvenient. I'll go anywhere afterward—except +to Grandma's. Or even there, if she'll have me back!—Your loving +and anxious <span class="smcap">Barrie</span>.</p></div> + + +<p>TELEGRAM TO BARRIE FROM MRS. BALLANTREE MACDONALD</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>If you want to please me and be very happy yourself say 'Yes' to +B. N. Splendid thing for you. Could wish nothing better for your +future. Do relieve my mind by writing that you have decided. Yours +lovingly and hopefully,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1"><span class="smcap">Barbara</span>.<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + + +<p>LETTER FROM BARRIE TO HER MOTHER</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">Dearest</span>: Your telegram gave me the most dreadful surprise +when I arrived here at Ballachulish, and everything else seemed +against me too, for there was a wire from Mr. Bennett's sister +asking Mr. and Mrs. Vanneck to make their visit to her as soon as +possible, at that shooting lodge you told us about. They wanted to +go, and I was the only thing that prevented them. If I had an +<i>enemy</i> trying to push me into a corner this would have seemed like +his (or her) work—just as if it had been planned on purpose. But, +of course, that idea is nonsense. Basil said, 'Now, if you could +only care a little, and make up your mind to wait for the love, we +could be married at once, because I believe it's still easy to do +these things quickly in Scotland.' But I told him <i>I</i> didn't feel +as if I could, even to please Barbara, though I liked him very +much. And I began to think that, after all, I should have to go +back to Carlisle and beg Grandma to take me in, when who should +come teuf-teufing up to the hotel but Mr. Somerled in the darling +Gray Dragon. I could have cried with joy. It was like a miracle, +because, though I thought he might come along some time, I wasn't +expecting him then, any more than you would expect manna to fall in +1912 just because you happened to be hungry and lost.</p> + +<p>You will be surprised perhaps at my feeling that I was saved from +Basil and Grandma simply because Mr. Somerled happened to turn up +at our hotel in his motor-car. But I haven't told you all yet. He +wasn't alone. He had collected Duncan MacDonald and Miss MacDonald, +and he'd come to Ballachulish looking for us. I must confess to you +now that I wrote to him twice or three times, which was only +polite, as he'd been so kind about rescuing me before. And you +hadn't forbidden me to write. One of the things I told him in a +letter was about the visit to Mrs. Payne the Vannecks might be +making: and it occurred to him that some such complication as this +might arise. He thought if Mr. and Mrs. Vanneck wanted to go to the +Round House, it would be very nice for me to join my cousins (of +course the MacDonalds are my cousins) until you are ready for me to +come back to you. Or else I could go and stay at Dunelin Castle at +Dhrum, for they are willing to visit him there if I do. It has been +let to him for years, you know. As the MacDonalds are poor he was +afraid, if he didn't take the castle, they might let or even sell +it to some vulgar rich person who would spoil the island he loves. +Now he may buy it himself: for Duncan MacDonald has no son, and the +daughter is so plain and old that she can't possibly marry. Won't +it be good to have the castle still belonging to a MacDonald? And +it is so romantic that it should be Ian Somerled MacDonald, whom +Duncan used to despise. But perhaps you've never heard that story?</p> + +<p>Now, both the father and daughter are sweet to 'their dear +cousin,' and very kind to me—to please him, of course. Next to +being with you, I'd rather go to Dhrum than do anything else in the +world. Perhaps it will seem to you just the right thing, because I +know how difficult it is to plan what to do with me for the rest of +my life, unless I marry Basil. And maybe you wouldn't so much mind +my not marrying him, if I had a proper place to stay for ever so +many weeks, while you looked round?</p> + +<p>Mr. and Mrs. Vanneck haven't gone yet, but they will be starting +to-morrow morning for Dundee, and from there they will go to the +Round House. I am sorry to say I shan't miss them, as I did Mrs. +James. Cousin Duncan and Cousin Margaret (they have told me to call +them 'Cousin') don't seem Scottish at all, and so they are rather +disappointing. They live in London and don't care for Dhrum, but +they appear not to dislike the idea of visiting Mr. Somerled there. +I believe they have often in old times visited the people to whom +they let Dunelin Castle, but only when there was a very good <i>chef</i> +and a gay house-party. Cousin Margaret has a large, high nose, and +thin hair and a thin face and body. All her personality is thin and +cold, as if she couldn't care much about anything. But she does +care about women getting votes, and insists on talking politics in +the midst of lovely scenery. She looks so like her father, it is +quite funny, and their voices are exactly alike, slow and correct +and exaggeratedly English; and Scottish history bores them. They +are proud of the ancestor who ratted from Prince Charlie and fought +with Butcher Cumberland, so we have nothing in common. But any port +in a storm!</p> + +<p>I suppose I mustn't go away in the Gray Dragon till I hear from +you? Yet surely you will say 'Yes,' as it will save you trouble, +without my being obliged to marry Basil. I am sorry for him, but he +will soon get over it, for he loves his writing better than +anything else in the world, and presently he will go back to it and +forget me. I think he likes me because I would make a new kind of +heroine for one of his novels, and I'm quite willing he should have +me for that.</p> + +<p>I suppose if I go with Mr. Somerled Mrs. West will join Basil in a +few days, and they will continue their tour together as if nothing +had happened to interrupt it. Of course I haven't told Mr. Somerled +about Basil proposing, so when he suggested my going for a short +run with the Gray Dragon in memory of old times, he invited Basil +too. But that was before the Vannecks had looked out trains, and +decided that they couldn't get off till to-morrow. There wouldn't +be comfortable room for such a crowd even in the Gray Dragon. +Anyhow, Basil refused, saying he had writing to do—and I went with +Mr. Somerled and the cousins to the Pass of Glencoe—you know, +don't you, 'The Glen o' Weeping'?</p> + +<p>It is only an afternoon excursion from Ballachulish, so I was sure +you wouldn't object to my deciding for myself. As for Ballachulish, +it is one of the most charming little places I've seen yet in +Scotland, although coming here as we did from Loch Maree it would +need to be beautiful indeed, not to be what you call in the theatre +an 'anticlimax.' Loch Maree lies all secret and hidden among deer +forests. Along the narrow, twisting road as you go, you hear the +rushing sound of many rivers. Nobody had ever even dreamed of +motor-cars when that road was made, so you have to travel slowly +and manoeuvre whenever you meet anything if you don't want to be +killed. Even as it was, we got mixed up with a big automobile +loaded with fish-baskets. Our flywheel was on the ground, running +helplessly round and round, screaming horribly, while both +chauffeurs abused each other. Such a funny accident, and we had +another, going up a very steep hill. We'd so little petrol that it +ran back, as your blood does if you hold up your hand, and the +motor would do nothing but groan till we found out what was the +matter. Altogether it was quite an adventure going on such a road +with such a weak, elderly car like Blunderbore: but it was worth it +all, for Loch Maree is the beautiful birthplace of baby rainbows. +As we came near, travelling a mere white seam in a carpet of purple +heather stitched together with silver streams, I saw any quantity +of unfinished rainbows, just waiting to be matched on to each other +like bits of a puzzle. They hovered over rivulets, dancing in the +sunlight; or stained with colour the rocks thickly silvered with a +brocade of lichen, or else hid suddenly in the heather which, +mingling with pale green bracken, made a straggling pattern of +amethyst and jade for miles along the way. Oh, it was all lovely; +and we stayed a night there, at an ideal inn where fishermen engage +their rooms years beforehand. A dear old waiter in the Loch Maree +hotel advised me in the kindest way never, never to speak of fresh +herring as fish, in Scotland. I wonder why? He said, would I have +fresh herrings or eggs? I said I'd have the fish. He said there was +<i>no fish</i>, but would I try the herring? That was the way the +subject came up.</p> + +<p>We had two Highland ferries to cross, getting to Ballachulish. +Strome Ferry, which was difficult and almost dangerous because +there was a great storm of wind just then, and Dornie Ferry. I +liked those experiences better than almost anything we have done +with Blunderbore. The little ferries were so much more exciting +than a huge steam ferryboat, like that on the Tay. And in the wild, +lost country passing Clunie Inn, it poured with rain and wind, the +gale lashing us, rocking the car like a cradle. The spattering mud +made us look like hideous freckled people; and so the MacDonalds +saw me first. I hope Mr. Somerled explained I wasn't like that +really. We had so much arguing about Mrs. Payne's telegram and what +the Vannecks should do, that we had no time to wash, and I didn't +seem to care if I was never clean again. But the minute the Gray +Dragon appeared I cared <i>fearfully</i>. I took great pains with my +appearance before I started out with my new cousins, for Glencoe, +and I felt so happy that it seemed the place ought to call itself +the Glen o' Smiling instead of the Glen o' Weeping.</p> + +<p>Of course, however, I lost that frivolous feeling when we were +there, even though it was a joy to be back with the Gray Dragon; +for the Pass of Glencoe is like the Valley of Death. It is a sad +mouth wide open, roaring to the sky for vengeance, biting at the +clouds with black, jagged teeth; a great mouth in a dead face wet +with the tears of the weeping that can never be dried. It rained +while we were there, and though rain doesn't matter to the Gray +Dragon, it made the Pass more wild and grim if possible, filling it +with gray, drifting ghosts: ghosts of the murdered clansmen; ghosts +disappearing into dark, open doorways of rock castles, or falling +on the green floor of the glen, to weep on the dim, faded purple of +the sparse heather. The river into which the weeping cataracts shed +their tears was black at first; but suddenly, though the rain did +not stop, the sun tore a hole through a cloud, and shot a huge +rainbow into the rushing water. It split into a thousand fragments, +still gleaming under the clear brown flood: and I thought it was as +if the MacDonald women, in trying to escape from the massacre, had +dropped their poor treasures—their cairngorms and garnets and +amethysts—and there the jewels had lain ever since under the +water, because no one dared fish them out. But also I thought the +key of the rainbow itself might be lying there; and that made me +happy again in spite of the sadness of the place: for Mr. Somerled +and I used to talk when we first knew each other about finding the +key of the rainbow together: and I saw by the way he looked that he +hadn't forgotten. It is a compliment when a man like that remembers +anything a girl says, don't you think?</p> + +<p>Now, dear Barbara, I must send off this letter at once, though I +am going to telegraph at the same time, to ask if I may accept Mr. +Somerled's invitation. I tell you frankly I don't know how I shall +<i>bear</i> it if you say no. But you won't. You are too kind and sweet, +and you do want me to be happy and find the key of the rainbow, +don't you?</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Your <span class="smcap">Barrie</span>,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">Who can hardly wait.<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="IId" id="IId"></a>II</h2> + + +<p>When Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald received the telegram, which reached her +the day before Barrie's letter, she showed it at once to Aline West. It +read:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"Please forgive me for not saying 'Yes' as you wish to B. N. But I +need give no more trouble for a long time, though. Mr. and Mrs. +Vanneck leaving to-morrow. Mr. Somerled has arrived here with my +cousins the MacDonalds from London and I am invited to make visit +Dunelin Castle at Dhrum. Do please let me go, unless you can have +me. They will bring me back first to see you unless that +inconvenient. Have just posted you long letter, but hope you will +wire answer to this.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"<span class="smcap">Barrie</span>."<br /></span> +</div></div></div> + +<p>"How simply fatal!" Barbara remarked, so calmly that Aline could have +boxed her ears. But, after all, it was she who cared, not Mrs. Bal. So +long as Barrie was reasonably safe and reasonably happy, and entirely +out of her way (even temporarily out of her way), Barbara did not much +mind about anything else. She had wanted to punish Somerled a little for +his indifference, past and present, to her (almost) irresistible self: +but she <i>had</i> punished him, and it had been great fun, and she was tired +of bothering. Her sense of humour, a saving grace of hers, was tickled +by his persistence, and this unexpected coup at Ballachulish with the +MacDonalds. She could not help chuckling when she thought how Aline (it +had been mostly Aline) had maneuvered to throw that poor pretty child +into Basil's arms; and how, just as she seemed on the point of +succeeding, down swooped Somerled like a golden eagle of the mountains +to snap the prey out of his rival's mouth. Barbara would have preferred +that her daughter should marry Basil, since she must marry somebody to +be got rid of, being so <i>dreadfully</i> in the way, poor pet! But luckily +Morgan Bennett had at last said what Barbara wanted him to say. He had +meant all along, no doubt, to say it—unless he had wavered from his +true allegiance a little on that perilous evening when he first saw +Barrie at the theatre. Barbara was safely engaged to him now; and though +she had had to tell him that "dear little sister Barrie" would probably +marry Basil Norman, she had only said "probably." She couldn't answer +for the creature—one never could for anybody.</p> + +<p>"How <i>like</i> Somerled!" she gurgled, as Aline sat speechless, with the +telegram in her hand. "Now we know where he's been. He went to London +and collected the MacDonald family, when all else had failed. He must be +making it well worth their while, for they hate their native wilds. But +then—London in <i>August</i>! I suppose they welcomed any change. My poor +dear, I <i>am</i> sorry if you're fond of him, but this does look as if +Somerled were tremendously in earnest. And if he is, I don't think you +and I are capable of coping with him. We must let things shape +themselves, I'm afraid."</p> + +<p>Aline's eyes, well again now, sent out a flash such as Basil knew. +"You're not going to fail me, are you?" she exclaimed. Her impulse was +to add shrilly, "Now that you've made your own market, and don't care a +rap what happens to any one else!" As she was Mrs. Bal's guest still, +and had been royally entertained, she sacrificed the momentary +satisfaction. Besides, this was the last moment in which it would be +safe to offend Mrs. Bal.</p> + +<p>"Fail you? Of course not," said Barbara. "But what more can I do? I've +written and wired Barrie. We both arranged, first for the Vannecks to +stay longer, and then for them to go suddenly—or at least to say they +were going. We've done so <i>many</i> things, I'm quite confused. And I +should have <i>loved</i> Barrie to fall in love with your brother, who's +perfectly charming and so <i>sensible</i> about everything. But you see, I +can't force the girl. And Somerled's on the spot. What do you <i>want</i> me +to do that I haven't done?"</p> + +<p>"I don't want you to do anything," Aline answered, struggling to keep +her head, "except to stand by me—and Basil. I do care for Ian. I've +confessed everything to you, and your not being certain about Mr. +Bennett made you so sweet and sympathetic, it was really a comfort. But +I've got my brother as well as myself to fight for. One never can be +sure what he'll do for himself, he's so modest, and always lets other +men get ahead. If you'll stick to us, I'll start off by the first train. +I fancy I'll have to go to Oban or somewhere, and hire a motor. Basil +has written about ferries there are to cross. It will be terrible, +alone. But if you'll stick to me——"</p> + +<p>"Stick to you?" repeated Barbara, hoping that Aline did not mean to put +her to too much trouble. She was a little—just a little—tired of dear +Aline. It had been useful and pleasant to have her, during this time of +uncertainty concerning Morgan Bennett: a nice woman to go about with; +pretty, but not too pretty; young, yet not too young; celebrated, yet +not as celebrated or popular as herself; but now it was all settled +about Morgan; and Aline had been a tiny bit plaintive, which was boring. +Also it was boring to see how stodgily George Vanneck was in love with +Mrs. West, without shadow of turning, although Barbara had tried her +hand, just for fun, at tempting him to turn. Even a worm would; but +George Vanneck wouldn't, which made him seem so slow! And Mrs. West was +a woman with only two smiles, and no real sense of humour.</p> + +<p>"All I mean is," Aline explained, uneasily feeling that she had lost her +power, "will you send me as your representative to Barrie? I <i>can't</i> let +Ian think I have come because of him. But you are acting, and can't +possibly get away, so—as we're friends now, it would seem only natural +for me to go in your place."</p> + +<p>"What will you do when you get to Ballachulish?"</p> + +<p>"I'll give Barrie several reasons for marrying my brother, and if you'll +let me speak for you as well as for him and myself, I'm almost sure I +can—can save her from Somerled."</p> + +<p>At this Barbara frankly laughed, the way of putting it seemed so quaint; +and as for herself, she was feeling extraordinarily happy. She had got +what she wanted from life. She had got Morgan Bennett. And at the end of +the week he was going to America for a month, which was nice, because +while feeling perfectly safe about the future, she would be able to have +a little rest cure, without bothering to be agreeable to him. He was +fascinating, but strenuous. And if she need not have Barrie staying with +her after all, she could accept a charming invitation for Sunday and +part of Monday in the adorable Trossachs. It was the Duchess of Dalmelly +who had asked her, and she had thought she must refuse because Barrie +was due in Glasgow on Saturday evening. She had not felt like putting +off the child again, as Morgan would be gone; yet the Duchess did not +know that Barrie existed, and Barbara didn't want her to know. Why not +let things arrange themselves, and Barrie go to Dunelin Castle with the +MacDonalds? The Duchess was said to have wonderful house-parties, and +the Duke's place near Callander was famous. Barbara had never been +invited before and would like to go, especially as the fiancée of a +millionaire. It would give her new importance.</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, you must do as you like," she said easily to Aline, "but +don't fuss <i>too</i> much. What is to be, will be, you know."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know," Aline answered dryly. "And now I'll look up trains."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="IIId" id="IIId"></a>III</h2> + + +<p>Aline induced Mrs. Bal to telegraph Barrie, "Await my messenger"; +nevertheless the girl was greatly surprised to see Mrs. West. She had +vaguely thought that Barbara might send one of the red-headed maids, to +take her back to Glasgow.</p> + +<p>Of course Basil must have known, but he had not told. Since Somerled and +the MacDonalds came, he had kept to himself with his writing as an +excuse. Now Barrie realized that certainly he had been expecting his +sister; yet he had not gone to meet her with his car. Perhaps there had +not been time: or perhaps he had an inspiration, and could not tear +himself from work, even for a few hours.</p> + +<p>When Aline arrived at Ballachulish, Barrie and Somerled and Margaret +MacDonald were walking together by the side of fair Loch Leven. Barrie +wore a white dress and no hat. The late afternoon sun was dazzling on +her hair, and as Somerled looked at her, across Miss MacDonald (it was +like Margaret to walk between them), there was an expression on his face +which made Aline feel capable of desperate things. A child like Barrie +to win him away from her so easily! There was something wrong about the +world. Aline yearned to right it, and live happily ever after. She had +travelled all night by train, and had been hours in a motor-car, never +once noticing the scenery; and instead of being enchanted with Connel +Ferry had regarded the crossing as a vexatious delay. Some of the most +beautiful scenes in Scotland had passed before her eyes between Oban and +Ballachulish; but if she thought of such things at all, she thought that +even a romantic writer couldn't be expected to notice irrelevant trifles +like nature, when bound up heart and soul in her own private romance.</p> + +<p>Somerled wondered how he could possibly have found her face interesting. +He did not know which of her two smiles had less genuine human nature in +it, the sad one or the gay one. And he wondered for the first time if +Basil didn't write the best part of their books.</p> + +<p>"I've come in a great hurry on an important mission from Mrs. Ballantree +MacDonald to Barrie," she explained to Somerled rather than to the girl, +as she got stiffly out of the motor-car. She was almost pathetically +anxious not to produce the impression that this frantic journey had been +undertaken on Ian's account. If she failed, she would put George Vanneck +out of his long misery by marrying him. She would even say that they had +been secretly engaged for some time. Anything rather than Somerled +should suspect the truth. But she was going to try hard not to fail.</p> + +<p>"I'll see Basil presently," she said when Barrie asked if they oughtn't +to let him know. It occurred to Somerled that Aline did not want to meet +her brother before strangers. "Let me just get rid of this hired +motor-car—and then I must fulfil my mission before doing anything else. +Basil and I will have plenty of time together. I've finished my visit to +Mrs. Bal. Dear child, may I have a little talk with you in your own +room, and give you your Barbara's message?"</p> + +<p>Barrie was eager, yet frightened. She could hardly wait to hear what was +her mother's verdict on the Plan; but it seemed ominous that she was to +learn it through Aline. Nothing good had come to her so far through Mrs. +West.</p> + +<p>Barrie's room was small, and looked over a dovecote. The doves were +mourning a good deal more than was reasonable considering that their +griefs must have happened generations ago. Their continuous cooing +rasped Aline's nerves. How would it be best to begin? She had planned it +out a dozen times in the train, and a dozen times more in the car: but a +few doves and a disturbance in an unseen family of chickens were enough +to put everything out of her head. Suddenly she began to cry. That was +not a part of her design; but no inspiration could have been more +useful. The pretty, serene mask of her smooth face wrinkled up +pitifully, and made her seem real and human. Barrie's heart warmed to +her for the first time.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mrs. West, what is it?" she exclaimed. "Nothing has happened to +moth—to Barbara?"</p> + +<p>Nothing that happened to any one except herself could have drawn tears +from Aline West, but Barrie did not know that.</p> + +<p>"I am so—horribly unhappy!" wailed Aline, hiding her distorted face in +her hands. There was no time to fumble for a handkerchief.</p> + +<p>"Is there anything I can do?" Barrie asked.</p> + +<p>"There is—everything!" Aline choked. She began to realize from the +girl's agitated voice that the accident of her own tears had been +providential. "But you won't do it when you know."</p> + +<p>"I will, indeed—if I can," Barrie warmly protested.</p> + +<p>"You have taken Ian away from me," Aline sobbed. "He was mine till you +came. I worshipped him, and he loved me. He loves me still, but we +quarrelled—about you. I was jealous—I confess. You are so young. +I'm—thirty. He said he cared nothing for you in that way—that you were +only a child; but he'd promised you to take you to Edinburgh and be a +sort of guardian, and nothing would induce him to break his word. I was +foolish—I tried to make it a test with him. I said if he loved me he +would tell you he'd changed his mind, that he couldn't take you. But he +wouldn't be persuaded, and so we quarrelled. Everything has been wrong +between us since. He is so proud and hard! And my heart is breaking."</p> + +<p>"I am sorry—very sorry," Barrie answered in a queer, level voice, +without any expression in it. "Did you come here to tell me this?"</p> + +<p>"No, oh, no," Aline said quickly. "I came from your mother. I was to +tell you that she's going to marry Mr. Bennett, and that she hopes still +that you may make up your mind to accept my brother who loves you so +much, before Mr. Bennett comes back from America. He's going in a day or +two—for a few weeks. You know, it is so awkward for Barbara. If he +should find out that—little secret she's kept from him! He's rather a +strange man. He can be hard. She's afraid of him. She couldn't come to +you herself, and she dares not have you back because Mr. Bennett is +still there, and if he sees you—but you understand, don't you? I +offered to come. We are great friends, she and I. But—I wanted to come +for myself too. Ian is so terribly obstinate. He made up his mind that +you needed his help, and that he'd stand by you whatever happened. It is +his boast that he's never broken his word, nor failed any one. Even his +love for me wouldn't make him give up—and he won't give you up while he +thinks you are alone and needing a friend. See what he has done for you! +He has gone and fetched these MacDonalds. I knew something had happened +because his chauffeur was wired for, to meet him somewhere, but it was a +blow to hear from Barbara that he'd followed you. She showed me your +telegram. I almost lost hope then, that anything could ever come right +between Ian and me. But when she asked me to see you, I thought—it +seemed just possible, if I could make you understand——"</p> + +<p>"Please tell me," Barrie said, still in that strange, dry voice, unlike +hers, and very old sounding for a young girl, "please tell me exactly +what you thought I might do—when you'd made me understand?"</p> + +<p>"I thought you might feel that the only way to free Ian Somerled from +his supposed duty would be to marry some one else quickly. You know he +blames Barbara; but if you had a husband, you wouldn't need a guardian +any more. Then, if I asked him to forgive me—and I would ask him, for +I've no pride left!—he might come back. I believe he'd be glad to come +back, for we loved each other dearly before you parted us!"</p> + +<p>"That is true," said Barrie; "if I marry some one else he will +be—released. I didn't know what trouble I was making for him."</p> + +<p>"No, you didn't know, of course, for <i>he</i> couldn't tell you," Aline +agreed. "But now you do know. Oh, the only way, if Ian is to be made +happy again in spite of himself, is for you to marry Basil. Think how +happy you will make him too! And Barbara. Every one will be happy, and +all through you."</p> + +<p>"I'll see Basil and talk to him," said Barrie.</p> + +<p>"You <i>will</i>? You little angel! But I must see him first and prepare him. +Are you going to do what we all want? Even Ian wants it at heart, though +he doesn't know it yet, for it would be such a relief for him to feel +you were all right, and he—could go back to—old times."</p> + +<p>"I'd marry Basil to-morrow, if I could," Barrie replied.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you can," Aline said, radiant, drying her tears.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Basil persuaded himself that he would have been less than man if he +refused to accept his happiness, even though he could have wished it to +come to him spontaneously. But nothing, as Aline anxiously reminded him, +can be ideal in this world. And it wasn't as if it were certain that +Somerled would have married the girl if they had been let alone.</p> + +<p>"We shall never know now what he <i>would</i> have done," she said, "and I +for one don't want to know. I want to know only what he will <i>do</i>. Even +if he has been a little—infatuated, why, you told me yourself that +hearts are often caught in the rebound. I shall try so hard."</p> + +<p>"But you are going away with us!" Basil said quickly. "You must."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I will. I wouldn't trust you alone—to keep Barrie. But afterward I +shall write him a letter. Such a letter! Of course, we've all three +quite decided now" (it was she, and Basil reluctantly, who had decided) +"merely to tell him that we're obliged to take Barrie back to her +mother; that Mrs. Bal would hear of nothing else. And it won't be a lie, +because as soon as you're married, you will take her to see Barbara. +Morgan Bennett will be gone, so Mrs. Bal won't mind—much. Have you +decided where the wedding is to be?"</p> + +<p>"Gretna Green," Basil answered with such prompt decision that Aline was +surprised.</p> + +<p>"Why Gretna Green? It's such a long way," she objected, impatient for +the afterward, which was to be her reward. "I thought one place was as +good as another in Scotland nowadays, and that——"</p> + +<p>"I've a special reason for wanting to be married to Barrie at Gretna +Green," said Basil, almost fiercely. "For one thing, she's told me that +it used to be a dream of hers. For another——"</p> + +<p>"For another?"</p> + +<p>"No matter. Only a fancy of mine—to rub out the recollection of +something I don't like. Of course, if Barrie objects—but I hope she +won't."</p> + +<p>Barrie did not object in words. Only her heart rebelled. But her one +great wish was to put her heart to sleep. And nothing else mattered. +Nothing else must matter now.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="IVd" id="IVd"></a>IV</h2> + +<h3>BARRIE WRITES AGAIN</h3> + + +<p>This never was a story. I wrote things down, to please myself, just as +they happened. But now that the end of the heather moon has come, I must +write of its last days. I think by and by I shall send all this to Mrs. +James, in California, otherwise she will never understand how everything +came about; and besides, if it hadn't been for her the end would have +been very different.</p> + +<p>This part will have to be a sort of confession. When I began to write, I +used not to say much about my feelings, even when I was sure of them, +which was seldom; but I see now that I fell in love with my knight the +minute I saw him first. I must have been fascinated, or it would not +have occurred to me to choose him as the man to buy my brooch. I might +have spoken to some one else. By the time we started on our trip and got +as far as Gretna Green, I <i>worshipped</i> him. That is why I was so happy. +I never troubled then about what the end would be. I just gave myself up +to being happy, and it seemed as if such happiness must last forever. I +used to wonder why I wasn't more impatient to get to Edinburgh and see +my mother—the one thing I started out to do. But it was because I'd +fallen in love with my knight, and he was already more important for me +than any one else in the world, more important even than Barbara.</p> + +<p>Soon I began to suspect what was happening; and in Edinburgh I was +quite, <i>quite</i> sure. But I wasn't any longer perfectly happy. There were +clouds over the heather moon—that sweet, kind moon which I used to say +was the best of the year for falling in love.</p> + +<p>I stopped writing then, for if I had written it would have had to be all +about my feelings. The world was full of them. They were like gulls +wheeling round a lighthouse lamp; and my heart was the lamp.</p> + +<p>I thought, in Edinburgh, that my knight didn't care for me as I did for +him. He kept away, and let other men go with me everywhere. Now I +understand why, but then it made me miserable, for I knew he was the One +Man, and always would be. A girl who had once loved him could never look +at any one else. There were other things too that made me sad. Nobody +wanted me. People were always planning how to send me away: but the +heather moon shone in spite of all, and each evening when she came up, +out of the mysterious places where she hides, she seemed to say: +"Courage. Have faith in me. Don't lose hope, and I'll show you yet where +to find the rainbow key." So I wouldn't lose hope; and I felt rewarded +when my knight asked me to write to him, and promised that by and by I +should see him again.</p> + +<p>Then a letter came, and though I couldn't think why he had gone back to +Carlisle to call on Grandma, I felt it must be for a reason connected +with me; and that was cheering—just to know that I was in his mind. +About London—when he went there afterward—I wasn't so sure. But it was +the happiest day in my life when he suddenly appeared at Ballachulish. +He came just in time, it seemed, to save me as he had saved me before. I +could hardly keep from showing how I adored him. As he had come such a +long way and had done so much for my sake, I thought that perhaps after +all he did care, though it seemed too wonderful to be true. Now and +then, while we were waiting to hear what Barbara would say about the +invitation to Dhrum, there was a look in his eyes that made me feel the +heather moon had been my true friend. He was changed, too, not hard and +cynical as he used to be, but kind and gentle to every one, as if he had +begun to see what a beautiful place the world can be.</p> + +<p>This made it worse when Mrs. West came, and explained that all he had +done for me was for duty, not for love: that he loved her, and I had +spoiled everything for them both. Mrs. West said that he would stick to +his duty at all costs, until I was actually married, so I was glad then, +instead of sorry as I had been before, that Basil wanted me. I saw that +she was right, and the sooner it was over the better. But I didn't dare +think about the future. I just went on blindly, and did what Basil and +Mrs. West told me to do. Nothing seemed to matter except to show my +knight that after all my selfishness and thoughtlessness and conceit I +had freed him.</p> + +<p>I would rather have been married anywhere than at Gretna Green, but +Basil had set his heart on that place.</p> + +<p>We told my knight that Barbara was making me go away at once with Mrs. +West and Basil; or rather, I let them explain. I couldn't. I was afraid +I should break down, and he would see how wretched I was. It was all I +could do to say "good-bye." It nearly killed me to see the hurt, +surprised look on his face. Even now I can hardly write of that.</p> + +<p>Basil had found out about the marriage laws. We had been in Scotland for +three weeks, and all we had to do, if we wanted to be married in a +hurry, was to declare before two witnesses who knew us both, that we +took each other as husband and wife. We could have done it just as well +at Ballachulish if Basil hadn't been determined it should be Gretna +Green; but afterward I thought that he, or perhaps Mrs. West, had felt +it would be better to have the wedding far away from my knight, who +called himself my guardian, and might consider it his duty to object.</p> + +<p>Mrs. West was to be one of the witnesses, and, as Barbara couldn't leave +the man she was engaged to, the very last day before he sailed, Basil +thought we had better have Salomon the chauffeur for the second witness. +Mr. George Vanneck might have come on from Glasgow, but I heard Mrs. +West say to Basil, when he suggested telegraphing, "I don't want to see +him just now, and especially at the time of a wedding. He might be +unreasonable."</p> + +<p>As we needed Salomon, we went all the way in the car, instead of taking +the train from Oban, which would have saved us a few hours.</p> + +<p>When we got to Gretna Green it was evening, but the daylight lingered +still. In the south it would already have been gone. There was a pale +dusk mingling with the moonshine, and I couldn't help remembering the +mysterious light in Sweetheart Abbey, on my first night of Scotland and +the heather moon. I remembered my dream, too, the dream of the locked +ebony and silver box, which could be opened only by the key of the +rainbow. It nearly broke my heart to think of these things, and I wished +it <i>would</i> break, so that I might die instead of marrying Basil: for if +I were dead I should be safely out of everybody's way, just the same as +being married.</p> + +<p>Basil asked me where it was that we had gone through the ceremony for +the photographs, but before I had time to answer, the car brought us to +the house, and he recognized it from the biograph pictures. He told +Salomon to stop, and leaving Mrs. West and me in the car, he got out to +talk with the man of the house. Up till that moment I had been dully +wishing it were all over, and had been actually in a hurry; but suddenly +I felt as if I couldn't bear being married, and should have to run away. +I longed and almost prayed for something—anything—to happen which +would put off the wedding until another day. If an earthquake had +wrecked the house I should have been delighted. But nothing did happen. +Mrs. West talked cheeringly to me while Basil was gone, saying how happy +I should be all the rest of my life, and what a lovely honeymoon her +brother was planning. "I shall go away and leave you to your two +selves," she said; and though I'm afraid I almost hated her, still I +longed to cry out, "Oh, <i>don't</i> go away!"</p> + +<p>In a few minutes Basil came back, looking excited and rather happy, yet +there was that curiously pitiful, apologetic expression in his eyes +which had been in them always lately, as if he were ashamed and sorry +about something.</p> + +<p>"It's all right," he explained. "The man tells me we can be married +here, and it's not too late. He says a good many people come even +nowadays, simply for the romance of having their wedding at Gretna +Green." Then Basil gave his hand to me, to help me down from the car. I +felt very weak, and almost sick. How different from the day when my +knight and I had dashed up to this door in the old-fashioned chaise, and +played the game of being married at the anvil! How my heart beat as he +held me for an instant in his arms! I ought to have known then that I +was in love with him. Now, it was as if my heart were dying, for it felt +cold and heavy as lead, as I told myself that after this it would be +wrong to call Mr. Somerled "my knight," or even to think of him at all, +since to think was to love.</p> + +<p>Mrs. West got down from the car too, and took off her veil. Basil +explained to Salomon what it would be necessary for him to do, and how +he must leave his motor for a few minutes.</p> + +<p>My knees trembled so that I could scarcely walk. Basil noticed it, and +insisted on my taking his arm. "It's because she has been sitting still +in the car so long," Mrs. West said to him hastily. "I am often like +that after a day's motoring."</p> + +<p>"You're awfully pale," said Basil, staring at me anxiously. "You won't +faint or anything, will you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no," I said. "I am quite well." I tried to speak naturally, but my +voice sounded as if it were some one else's, miles away. And for a +minute, after entering the little room that looked so familiar, I was +afraid that I might cry or be somehow stupid.</p> + +<p>"Now," said Basil, "all we have to do is to state before these witnesses +that we take one another in marriage. Isn't that it?" he asked, turning +to the old man, who in the costume brought by the photographers, had +performed the ceremony over me and my knight.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir, that is all there is to it," he replied; but as he spoke he +was peering curiously at me. "That's all there is to what we call an +irregular marriage in Scotland, such as this is going to be. When I say +'irregular,' you mustn't think anything wrong. It's as legal as the kind +with banns. If you want to register your marriage, sir, you must make +application to the sheriff of the county; but it's just as binding and +legal without."</p> + +<p>"That is what I understood," said Basil. "But, of course, I shall have +it registered. Are you ready, Barrie?"</p> + +<p>"Excuse me the liberty, sir," broke in the old man, "but I think this +will be the young leddy who was done for the Cinema? I know her by her +hair. I'm not so sure, though, that I recognize you, sir, or——"</p> + +<p>"No, no, it wasn't I. That was her guardian," Basil returned hurriedly. +"Now, Barrie, if you're ready——"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I'm ready——" I began. I found that I could speak only in a +whisper. Or perhaps it was the whirr of a passing motor outside which +drowned my voice.</p> + +<p>"Well then, come, dearest child, and stand here by me. Give me your +hand——Is anything the matter?"</p> + +<p>I forgot to answer, the sound of that car out there was so like the +well-remembered purr of the Gray Dragon. But I seemed always to be +hearing a kind of undertone of Dragon music. Often I had turned my head +as we came from Oban, to see if some car gaining on us from behind were +the Gray Dragon. It never was; and this would not be. But it was not +passing after all. It was stopping near the house—as near as +Blunderbore would allow.</p> + +<p>"Is anything the matter?" I heard the words more clearly the second time +he spoke.</p> + +<p>"No," I said. "There is nothing——"</p> + +<p>He took my hand, which was hanging by my side, for I had forgotten to +give it when he asked. His felt very hot to the touch, so mine must have +been cold. He pressed it warmly, and his eyes called to mine. There was +no light in the room, for it was not needed yet, and I could see that +his face was white. I wished above all things to pull my hand away from +him.</p> + +<p>"I, Basil, take thee, Barribel——" he began formally.</p> + +<p>"I forbid this marriage. It mustn't go on," said a voice at the door. It +sounded like the voice of my knight: but everything was so dream-like +and unreal that I thought the voice was part of the unreality. It could +not be his.</p> + +<p>But it was. He came forward, covered with dust from head to foot, as if +he had been driving far and fast.</p> + +<p>"Barribel MacDonald is already my wife," he said.</p> + +<p>He took my hand away from Basil, who was so astounded that for an +instant he did not resist. But in another second a flood of rage seemed +to sweep over him, giving him strength and presence of mind.</p> + +<p>"That's not true, and you know it!" he exclaimed, while Mrs. West stood +still as a statue, looking suddenly years older than before. "Barrie, +come to me."</p> + +<p>But my knight would not let me go. He grasped my hand so tightly that it +hurt. I felt as if my fingers would break in his, and for just that +moment I was deliriously happy, until I remembered, with a sharp pain +like an icicle in my heart, that he loved Mrs. West.</p> + +<p>"It <i>is</i> true," he said. "We went through the marriage ceremony here, +three weeks ago, she and I, as this man will tell you. I am a Scot, and +I claim her as my wife by the law of Scotland, unless she will swear to +me now, before God, that she loves you and wants you for her husband. If +she can swear that, I will take steps to release her. What do you say, +Barrie?"</p> + +<p>"I—I <i>like</i> Basil very much," I stammered. "I was willing—I am +willing—to marry him."</p> + +<p>"I didn't ask if you liked, but if you loved, him. Do you?"</p> + +<p>"I—I want to marry him," I exclaimed, strength flowing into me as I +thought of Mrs. West. "Don't be afraid, Mr. Somerled. I've troubled you +enough. Even if we really are married, I would rather die than hold you. +I know everything—how it was about me you quarrelled with <i>her</i>. But +I've spoiled only a few weeks of your life. I won't spoil the rest. It +is she who ought to be your wife, not I."</p> + +<p>"Who has said that to you?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"It is her own idea!" Mrs. West cried.</p> + +<p>"Then it is a very foolish idea," said he. "Mrs. West and I never had +it. If you love Basil Norman, Barrie, I won't stand in your way. But if +you don't love him, by heaven he shan't take you from me."</p> + +<p>"There's no question of taking her from you. She doesn't belong to you," +Basil flung back at him. "For a marriage to be legal one of the persons +concerned must have lived in Scotland for twenty-one days——"</p> + +<p>"I lived in Scotland seventeen years."</p> + +<p>"But not directly before that foolish business here——"</p> + +<p>"I have never been without a holding in Scotland. Dunelin Castle has +been mine by lease for years. Now it's mine by right of ownership. +Whether our marriage was legal or not will have to be settled by +Scottish Law before the girl can marry any one else, and I shall fight +in the courts for my rights if you dispute them."</p> + +<p>"Are you going to throw me over, Barrie?" Basil asked.</p> + +<p>"You shall not put it to her like that!" said my knight. "Barrie, you +haven't answered my question. Do you love him?"</p> + +<p>"No," I faltered. I could not lie.</p> + +<p>"Do you love me?"</p> + +<p>"You're cruel to ask me that, when you——"</p> + +<p>"When you ought to have seen long ago, that I was at your feet, that I +was mad for you, that you were my one thought. I tried not to be a brute +as well as a fool, so I stood aside and gave all the other men who were +younger, and perhaps worthier, their chance. If you had loved anybody +else I'd have let you alone. But I don't think one of those men made +good. Do you love me, Barrie? Answer me now, as if we were alone +together?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," I whispered.</p> + +<p>He caught me in his arms, and kissed me on the mouth, holding me close +against his breast.</p> + +<p>"Then," he said, "I am your husband. Are you my wife? I ask you before +these witnesses, who know us both."</p> + +<p>"I am your wife," I repeated after him.</p> + +<p>"This time," he exclaimed, "we are safely married, and not all the world +can part us now."</p> + +<p>Basil and Aline went away before we did. Aline said she was going to +Glasgow, to tell Barbara how I had treated them, and to see the man she +was engaged to marry: that it was all a mistake, if not a deliberate +falsehood on my part, about her thinking Ian cared for her. Basil went +with her, not saying anything at all, except:</p> + +<p>"Good-bye, Barrie. Some day perhaps you'll understand and forgive me. I +always had a presentiment that I shouldn't be able to bring it off at +the last; that Somerled would cut in and snatch you away from me."</p> + +<p>Ian suggested taking me to Carlisle, only eight miles away, to stay with +Grandma until we could have a more conventional wedding. But when I +said, "<i>Aren't</i> we really and truly married, then?" in a frightened +voice, he said, "Of course we are, my darling child—married as fast as +if by book and bell. Nothing can part us. I shall never let you go out +of my sight for five minutes after this—unless you want to go."</p> + +<p>"But I don't," I said. And a sudden thought came to me. I told him I +wished he would take me to Sweetheart Abbey. If it had been appropriate +to spend the first night of the heather moon there, as Mrs. James had +said, it would be still more appropriate to spend the first night of the +honeymoon.</p> + +<p>We bade the old man of the house good-bye and he shook hands with us +both. Ian gave him something which made him exclaim, "I thank you +kindly, indeed, sir! And I must say, if you'll excuse the liberty, I +never wanted the other gentleman to get her, sir. I felt in my bones +there was something wrong, so I kept on asking questions to delay the +thing. If I hadn't done that, it would all have been fixed up before you +came along."</p> + +<p>"If it had been, I should have taken her away from him, anyhow," said +Ian, "because she was my wife, and she couldn't have been his."</p> + +<p>"Not <i>exactly</i> your wife, sir," the old man tried to explain, taking him +literally. "But——"</p> + +<p>"If not in law she was in heart, and she was meant for me from the +beginning of time," said Ian.</p> + +<p>Then we went out to the dear Gray Dragon, which was white with dust, and +so was dear Vedder.</p> + +<p>"It's all right," Ian said to the stolid-looking fellow; and Vedder +answered, "Hurrah to heaven, sir!" which was a very queer expression, +but I liked it, and loved him for it. Basil used to say that chauffeurs +are a strange new race of men, but I think they are splendid. I hoped +that Ian would double Vedder's wages, and afterward he did.</p> + +<p>We drove fast to Sweetheart Abbey, with the heather moon in the east, a +sweet, pale, thin-cheeked moon, past her prime of youth, but more +beautiful and kind than ever. As we flew along the empty road, the Gray +Dragon purring with joy in our joy, rabbits ran ahead of us, like tiny +messengers impatient to tell the good news of what had happened. Our +big, white headlight turned them into bouncing, gray balls, and there +were dozens of them, tearing along just in front of us sometimes, but we +would not have killed or hurt one for its weight in gold.</p> + +<p>Ian took for us at the inn the very rooms he had taken before for Mrs. +James and me; and in his arms, with no lamplight but the heather moon +smiling through the window at us, I told him about my dream of his +bringing me the locked ebony and silver box, which could be opened only +with the rainbow key.</p> + +<p>"It was a true dream, my darling," he said. "My heart was locked up in a +box for many years, and nobody but you could have opened it, for you are +<i>you</i>, and you have the key of the rainbow in your little hands. Never +will the box be locked again. Now my heart doesn't need, doesn't want a +box, because it is forever in your keeping."</p> + +<p>There, at Sweetheart Abbey, in the little inn where I first began to ask +myself if Ian were not the One Man beside whom all others were shadows, +we told each other things and explained things that had seemed +mysterious.</p> + +<p>I told him how I had worshipped him from the beginning, and couldn't +help going on to care more and more, though I feared that he liked Mrs. +West, and thought of me only as a child. "But I wasn't a child," I said. +"From the first minute I loved you I was a woman."</p> + +<p>"You must have been a baby, or you would never have thought for a second +that I or any man could remember Mrs. West's existence when you were +there," he said scornfully. But as he was holding me very tightly in his +arms, the scorn did not hurt. "How you could believe her, when she told +you that what I did for you was from duty, I can't conceive. If you were +the heroine of one of Basil's novels there might be some excuse for you. +Heroines of stories always believe any wild thing the villain or +villainess chooses to tell them, but a real girl, with brains and eyes +and at least some common sense——"</p> + +<p>"Do you think when you're in love your common sense can stay on top?" I +asked. "It seemed too good to be true that you could love me, and she +was far more fascinating than I! And you knew and liked her first, and +had asked her to take a long motor trip with you: and it <i>was</i> true that +you quarrelled about me. Looking back it all seemed so natural, +especially remembering how you kept away from me and schemed—actually +<i>schemed</i>—to have me go about with other men, why shouldn't I believe a +woman <i>much</i> older than I, when she <i>cried</i> as she told me the story? +Why, at this very place, after you'd been so heavenly to me in the +Abbey, you were horrid next day, almost cross: and so you were often. +You hurt my feelings a dozen times a day, and every other man I saw was +kinder."</p> + +<p>"Because they weren't fighting a great fight with themselves, as I was," +he said, holding me a little more closely, if possible. "They, the +selfish chaps, were letting themselves go. I was saying to myself, +'Perhaps I'm too old and hard for her. I'm the first man she's ever +known. I must give her a chance to see and talk with others. For her own +sake, I mustn't yield to temptation and try to snatch her away from the +rest. Norman must have his chance. Douglas must have his chance. The +American boys must have theirs——' and by Jove, you seemed to like +giving it to them! You nearly drove me out of my mind."</p> + +<p>"I thought you were being bored with me."</p> + +<p>"You darling, adorable little idiot, as if a man could be bored with +you!"</p> + +<p>"I didn't know."</p> + +<p>"Well, you know now. I was nearly mad in Edinburgh, but I stuck to my +principles. I wanted to be sure one way or the other. But Norman had no +gratitude. He used your mother to help him against me——"</p> + +<p>"That was Mrs. West, I think, who used her."</p> + +<p>"Don't defend the fellow. It was both of them. They—and James sending +for his wife—drove me into a corner. But I wasn't going to be swept off +the board without a struggle. I meant from the beginning to fight for +you, if I saw a gleam of interest in your eyes for me, and sometimes I +thought I did see it. But thanks to Mrs. Bal MacDonald, they'd got you +in their clutches, those two. It suddenly occurred to me when I lost +Mrs. James, to go and get your grandmother—bring her by force if she +wouldn't come. I knew she had a sneaking kindness for me, as a MacDonald +man. There was a queer bond of sympathy between us, which we'd both felt +when we met. All our worst faults are alike. I dashed off to +Carlisle—quickest way, by train, and threw myself on the old lady's +mercy—told her everything. She was a trump, though perhaps her desire +to help was as much a wish to thwart her daughter-in-law as anything +else. She was too rheumatic to come with me in the car. I suppose it was +a wild scheme! But she herself suggested my going to London to invite +the MacDonalds. She thought, if I offered inducements—and she was +right. It was an inspiration on her part."</p> + +<p>"But," I broke in, "isn't it glorious not to have chaperons at all?"</p> + +<p>He didn't answer in words. Yet he made me understand in a far more +emphatic and satisfactory way, that he agreed.</p> + +<p>"You can imagine what I felt when you coolly went off from Ballachulish +with Norman and his sister," Ian went on. "Then I <i>did</i> think it was all +up—that I had been a fool for my hopes and my pains, till dear old +Vedder hummed and hawed and apologized for taking a liberty, and +mentioned that Salomon had boasted he was going to get his 'party' to +Gretna Green in the shortest time on record. 'It's a plot!' I said to +myself, as Mrs. James had warned me. And five minutes later Vedder and I +and the Gray Dragon were off at a pace—well, I'm afraid we exceeded the +legal limit most of the way; but the gods looked after us."</p> + +<p>"And so did the heather moon!" I added.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Now we are at Dhrum, our own dear purple island set in a sea of gold; +but first we went back to Carlisle and visited Grandma; and to please +her and Ian, I consented to be married all over again, in church, with a +special license and everything such as the conventional bride does, +though it seemed treacherous to that happy moment at Gretna Green, which +was like heaven after the valley of death. Grandma was wonderful to Ian, +and very nearly nice to me. Not an unkind word did she say of Barbara, +and she didn't even refer to my running away.</p> + +<p>"You have had the sense to choose a real man, and the good fortune to +win him. I'd hardly have thought it of you. A MacDonald too!" she +remarked. And I almost loved her. Mrs. Muir made us a wedding cake, +which she insisted on our taking away, in a large tin box: and when we +left Hillard House, Heppie's nose was pinker than I ever saw it, which +is saying a good deal.</p> + +<p>Aline West was married to Mr. George Vanneck the very day we started +from Carlisle for Dhrum. We saw an account of the wedding in the paper. +It was at Glasgow; and she was going to a lovely place called St. +Fillans for her honeymoon. Basil gave her away, and was to return +immediately after to Canada, "on business."</p> + +<p>It is like a dream to be living in the vast, turreted gray castle of our +ancestors, looking out over an endless sea, and to be the mistress of +such a house—I, little Barrie MacDonald, the princess rescued from a +glass retort. But it is a true dream. Ian says that he won me by a kind +of fraud, as the first Somerled won his Pictish princess; because we +weren't really married by that game we played with the photograph people +at Gretna Green. Only, he made up his mind even then, that if the wrong +man ever got a hold upon me, he would use the episode to frighten him +away. How thankful I am that it happened! If it hadn't, perhaps I should +have missed my happiness: but Ian says no, he would have snatched me +from Basil somehow, if not in one way, then in another. Poor Basil, I +can afford to remember him with forgiveness, and even a kind of +tenderness now! I think he always hated himself in his heart for doing +what he did. But tragedy came so near for a few hours that sometimes, if +Ian is separated from me for a moment, we have to rush to find each +other, and say "It's true—after all!"</p> + +<p>At Dunelin Castle there are all the things I used to wish for: MacDonald +tartan on the walls and floors of many rooms; and torn, faded MacDonald +banners hanging in the dimness high up on the stone walls of the great +dining-hall—where we never dine. Pipers pipe us away in the morning, +and the skirl of the pipes mingles with the crying of gulls and the boom +of the sea in a thrilling way. The old servants look as if they had +never been born and could never die. They are delightfully superstitious +and quaint, and not one of them would kill a spider. Neither would I, +for the matter of that! I suppose it's my MacDonald blood and my love of +Bruce. You ought to see the elaborate precautions that are taken to get +rid of a spider in Dunelin Castle without insulting or hurting its +feelings!</p> + +<p>Ian always wears the kilt; and if I hadn't loved him as much as I +possibly could before, I should have fallen in love with him all over +again the day I saw him in it first. He is painting my portrait in the +Gretna Green costume; and when we are tired, we take long walks +together, I in a short tweed, with my hair down my back, Ian in the +kilt. Our favourite tramp is to a mysterious, hidden lake, surrounded +with rugged black mountains like petrified guardian-dragons watching a +treasure. This wild, mountain walled lake is called the "Heart of +Dhrum," and Ian says it is no more wild or savage or dark with clouds +than <i>his</i> heart used to be every day when he was giving other men their +chance with me. He says, too, that if the lady who used to be imprisoned +in a fearful dungeon under the dining-hall at Dunelin, and fed only with +salt beef, had been Aline West it would have served her right. He would +have given her no sympathy, but a great deal of salt and very little +beef. But of course he does not mean that. His heart overflows with +kindness for all humanity nowadays, and it never was hard really. He +finds the world a glorious place with very few faults; but he says it is +I who have taught him this lesson, and that I should be able to make a +skeleton-ghost, condemned to clank chains in an underground prison +through eternity, see his fate in a rose-coloured light. I love him to +say foolish things. And I love him when he says nothing at all, but only +looks at me.</p> + +<p>He has taught me to dance the Highland fling. I do it with my hair down, +while the pipers pipe; and Ian cries Hoo! and Ha! and claps his hands, +as we dance, like the true Highlander he is. He was splendid in the +Games Week; for he could do the great jumps and "put" the stones as well +as the best of the Skye men who came over to compete with the men of +Dhrum. And here at Dunelin, where we danced reels till morning, on the +night of the ball we gave, he danced everybody else down—except me.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>This castle, which my fierce ancestors built nearly a thousand years +ago, is a fairy castle for me and for Ian. It is all our own now, to +have and to hold, because he has bought it, so it will belong to a +MacDonald while it and the world lasts—I pray. We shall go to live in +America, where I hope Barbara may let me see her sometimes; but we shall +have this fairy island of purple and gold to come back to always, the +hidden home of our hearts.</p> + +<p>I used to ask myself, when the heather moon vanished behind a mountain +or into the sea, in what secret place she lurked while she hid from the +world? Now I know that the purple island of Dhrum is her fastness, and +that because she loved us she brought us safely here, together.</p> + +<p>I wonder sometimes if Basil will ever write his romance of our +journeyings and adventures under the heather moon—months or years from +now, when he has forgotten to be sad, and is only pleasantly romantic, +as when I knew him first? Ian says he will never write it, because if he +did, he would have to be the villain; and no man ever yet made himself +the villain of his own book. Perhaps that is true. But I do not think +there ought to be a real villain in a story about a rainbow key and a +heather moon.</p> + + +<p>THE END</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Heather-Moon, by +C. N. Williamson and A. M. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Heather-Moon + +Author: C. N. Williamson and A. M. Williamson + +Release Date: November 9, 2006 [EBook #19742] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HEATHER-MOON *** + + + + +Produced by Alicia Williams, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + The Heather-Moon + + By C. N. & A. M. WILLIAMSON + +Authors of "The Guests of Hercules," "The Princess Virginia." "The Motor +Maid." etc. + +A. L. BURT COMPANY Publishers New York +_Copyright, 1912, by_ C. N. & A. M. Williamson + +_All rights reserved, including that of translation into Foreign +Languages, including the Scandinavian._ + + + + +BOOK I + +THE PRELUDE: AND THE PEOPLE + + + + +I + + +For the first time in her life, Barrie saw the door that led to the +garret stairs standing ajar. It was always, always locked, as is +correct, though irritating, for a door that leads to Fairyland. + +In Barrie's Outer Life that her grandmother knew, and Miss Hepburn knew, +and Mrs. Muir the housekeeper knew, there was--Heaven be praised!--no +romance at all; for romance is an evil thing, still worse, a frivolous +thing, which may be avoided for a well-brought-up girl though +whopping-cough may not; and already this same evil had wrought vast +damage among the MacDonalds of Dhrum. In the Inner Life of Barrie, +however, there was nothing worth thinking about except romance; and the +door of the garret stairs was one of the principal roads to the +forbidden land. + +She stopped in front of it. At first she could not believe her eyes. Her +heart had given a glorious bound, which, only to have felt once in its +full ecstasy, was worth the bother of being born into a family where +there were no mothers or fathers, but only--ah, what an awesome +only!--grim old Grandma MacDonald and Grandma MacDonald's grim old house +where Carlisle ends and moorlands begin. + +It is difficult to be sure of things when your heart is beating nineteen +to the dozen, and the special thing, or mirage of a thing, +seems--judging from all else that has happened in Outer Life--much too +good to be true. Yet there it was, that streak of dull, mote-misted +gold, painting what actually appeared to be a crack between the dark +frame of the door and the dark old door itself--just such gold as Barrie +had seen at least once a day ever since she could remember (except when +mumps and measles kept her in bed) by applying an eye to the keyhole. +"Fairy gold" she had named it. + +The only person who ever went into the garret was Mrs. Muir, and though +she had the air of making no secret of such expeditions, it had always +struck Barrie as deliciously, thrillingly strange that invariably she +turned the key of the stairway door upon herself the instant she was on +the other side, and religiously performed the same ceremony on letting +herself out. "Ceremony" really was the word, because the key was large, +ancient, and important-looking, and squeaked sepulchrally while it +turned. Barrie knew all this, because in spring and autumn, when Mrs. +Muir paid her visits to fairylands forlorn beyond the oak door, Barrie +lurked under cover of the convenient, thick, and well-placed shadow +behind the grandfather clock on the landing. + +It was not autumn now, which was part of the mystery, after these +endless years of routine (they seemed endless to Barrie at eighteen), +and she would certainly have missed the event had this not been her +keyhole hour. + +Somehow she had become aware--through heredity and race memory, no +doubt--that looking through keyholes was caddish, a trick unworthy of +any lady who was at heart a gentleman. But there are exceptions to all +keyholes, and this was one, because, as none save ghosts and fairies +lived or moved behind it in the garret, there was nobody to spy upon. +You looked through to stimulate the romance in your starved soul and +save it from death by inanition, because if romance died, then indeed +the Outer Life at Hillard House would be no longer bearable. + +Barrie paid her respects to the keyhole o' mornings, for two reasons. +The first and commonplace reason was because Mrs. Muir was busy +downstairs and had no eye to spare to see whether other eyes were glued +to the wrong places. The second and more charming reason was because in +the morning the golden haze floated behind the keyhole like shimmering +water with the sun shining deep into it. By afternoon there was nothing +left to peer into but cold gray shadow, which meant that the fairies and +other inhabitants were not at home. + +Mrs. Muir's motive for visiting the garret out of season was a simple +one, but it was well that Barrie did not know this, for it was not at +all interesting, and would have broken the music, thrown cold water on +the thrill. Moths, no respecters of persons or judges of high religious +reputations, had dared to nest in Mrs. MacDonald's best black cashmere +dress, which had not been worn and would not be worn, except on great +occasions, until next season, and had mechanically reduced it to the +rate of second best. Moth-powder and moth-balls were exhausted in +downstairs regions, but there was a store of both in the garret; and in +her annoyance at having to ascend at an unprecedented time, and her +vexation at an accident such as must happen in the best regulated +families, Mrs. Muir had hurriedly returned with the wanted box, +forgetting to lock the door. + +Barrie could not be sure that the housekeeper was not even now in the +garret; but she had to find out: and the awful thrill of uncertainty +made her next step a high adventure, the adventure of her life. It was a +step onto the garret stairs, and though it meant dangers of all sorts, +she risked them every one, and closed the door behind her. You see, if +she had not done this, any person passing along the landing--a person +such as Grandma, or Janet Hepburn--would at once have seen the streak of +gold, a mere yellow crack to them, and then and there would have arisen +a clamour for the key. + +Even with the door closed the risk remained in a lesser degree. Mrs. +Muir, if she were not at this moment in the garret, might suddenly +remember that she had left the door ajar, taking away the key; then she +would rush back like a stout round whirlwind, and in a minute more +Barrie would be a prisoner, almost like the fair bride in "The Mistletoe +Bough," only there was more air in the garret than in the oak chest that +shut with a spring. But Barrie was used to taking risks--risks +insignificant compared with this, yet big enough to supply salt and +sugar for the dry daily bread of existence. + +The door shut softly, but--mercy, what creaks those steps had in them! +They seemed to be vying with each other, the heartless brutes, as to +which could shriek the loudest under a girl's light foot. Probably they +had never seen a girl before, or if they had, it was so long ago they +had forgotten. Fancy Grandma a girl! No wonder, if the steps remembered +her, that they yelled----But by this time Barrie's head had arrived at +the top of the steep stairs, and her eyes were peering cautiously +through clouds of gold dust along the level of a floor, mountainous in +its far horizon with piled chests, trunks, and furniture. + +The gold poured through three very high, small dormer-windows which +until now Barrie had known only from outside, staring up at the ivied +house wall from the east garden. The dust lived in the garret air, and +was different from, more wonderful and mysterious than, any other dust, +except perhaps the dust far off in the distance at sunset, where +motor-cars you could not see passed along a road invisible. + +Barrie couldn't be quite certain at first whether the garret was empty +of human life, or whether Mrs. Muir was likely to pounce upon her with +reproaches from behind one of those immense oak posts which went up like +trees to meet the high beamed roof. Or she might be concealed by an +oasis of furniture. There were several such oases in the large +wilderness of garret, which covered the whole upper story of the old +house. But a lovely garret it was, a heavenly garret! even better than +Barrie had dreamed it might be, with her eye at the keyhole of the +stairway door. It was peopled with possibilities--glorious, echoing, +beckoning possibilities--which made her heart beat as she could not +remember its beating before. + +She climbed the remaining steps regardless of squeaks, because she could +not any longer bear the suspense concerning Mrs. Muir. Nothing moved in +answer to the old wood's complainings, and there was no other sound, or +rather there were no real sounds such as are made by people; but when +Barrie reached the head of the stairs the whole garret was full, to her +ears, of delicate rustlings and whisperings, sighs and footfalls and +breathings, and scurryings out of sight. + +No, Mrs. Muir was not here, or by this time she would be out in the open +and scolding hard. + +Barrie drew in deep breaths of the strange, still atmosphere which was +like air that had been put to sleep years and years ago. It must have +smelt exactly like this, she thought quietly, in the lost palace of La +Belle Dormante when the Prince found his way in through barricading +thickets. Barrie would hardly have been surprised if she had stumbled +upon a Sleeping Beauty. If she had, she would have said to herself, "So +that's the secret Mrs. Muir's been hiding, by keeping the door locked +up. I _told_ you so!" + +The scent of the garret fascinated Barrie, and made her heart beat +heavily, as if she were on the threshold of a mystery. It was made up of +many odours: a faint, not unpleasant mustiness, the smell of dust, a +perfume of old potpourri, and spices, cloves, and camphor for moths, a +vague fragrance of rosewood and worm-eaten oak, a hint of beeswax, a +tang of unaired leather and old books. + +Barrie suddenly felt perfectly happy. For to-day this wonderful place +with all its secrets was hers. She hardly knew what to explore first. +All the really interesting things in the house seemed to have risen to +the top, like cream on milk. Along a part of one wall opposite the +stairs and under the east windows whence came the morning gold were +ranged rough old bookcases, a kind of alms-house for indigent books, or +a prison for condemned volumes. But what books! Barrie was drawn to them +as by many magnets, and almost tremulously taking down one after +another, she understood the reason of their banishment. Here were all +the darling books which used to live down in the library, and had been +exiled because she dipped into them, they being (according to Grandma +and Miss Hepburn) "most unsuitable for nice-minded girls." Barrie had +mourned her friends as dead, but they had been only sleeping. And there +were others, apparently far more unsuitable for nice-minded girls--old +leather-bound books with quaint wood engravings and thick yellow pages +printed with old-fashioned "s's" like "f's." Barrie could have browsed +among this company for hours, but there were so many things to see in +the garret, so little time for seeing them, that she felt compelled +merely to say "How do you do, and good-bye," to each allurement. + +Her eyes, roaming like a pair of crusading knights in search of romance, +lighted suddenly on a pile or group of furniture in a distant corner. +There was other furniture in the garret, certainly more interesting to a +connoisseur and hunter of antiquities; but Barrie was neither. She had +contrived to seize upon a good deal of queer miscellaneous knowledge +outside lesson hours, yet she did not know the difference between +Sheraton and Hepplewhite. Chairs and sideboards and settees of Georgian +days and earlier had been relegated to this vast pound of unwanted +things, while their places were dishonourably filled downstairs by +mid-Victorian monstrosities which Mrs. MacDonald instinctively approved, +no doubt because they could offer no temptation to the eye. Barrie might +have felt the beauty of the graceful lines if she had given her +attention to these scattered relics of a past before there was a +Grandma; but a group of very different furniture beckoned her curiosity. + +The fact that there was a group, and that it seemed in the dimness to be +alike in colour and design, suggested mystery of some sort; and, +besides, it was almost impossible to imagine such furniture adorning +this house. + +Evidently it had been taken bodily out of one room. Why? As she asked +herself this question Barrie threaded her way delicately along narrow +paths between chairs, extraordinary leather or hairy cowhide trunks and +thrilling bandboxes of enormous size, made quaintly beautiful with +Chinese wall-paper. She wanted to examine the grouped furniture whose +pale coverings and gilded wood glimmered attractively even in the +darkest corner of the garret. + +It certainly was the darkest and farthest. Was this a coincidence, or +had there been a special reason for huddling these things out of sight? +There was not even a clear path to them, though there seemed to have +been method in planning most of the lanes that led from one luggage or +furniture village to another. Nothing led to this village built against +a wall. Its site was in a no-thoroughfare, and, perhaps by design, +perhaps by accident, a barricade had been erected before it; not a very +high barricade, but a wall or series of stumbling-blocks made up of +useless litter. If there could be a special corner of disgrace in this +land where all things were under decree of banishment, here was the +corner. + +By means of crawling over, under, and between numerous strangely +assorted objects which formed the barricade, the intruder arrived, +somewhat the worse for wear, at her destination. The furniture village +was composed, she discovered, of a set of blue satin-covered chairs and +sofas, with elaborately carved and gilded frames. There were tables to +match, and an empty glass cabinet, two long mirrors with marble brackets +underneath, also a highly ornamental chest of drawers and a bedstead of +gilded cane and wood, with cupids holding garlands of carved roses. + +Barrie began talking to herself half aloud, according to +long-established habit. "Good gracious me!" she exclaimed so inelegantly +that it was well Miss Hepburn could not hear. "What things to find in +this house! They're like--like canary birds in an ironmonger's shop. Who +could have owned them?" + +Suddenly the answer flashed into her head, and sent the blood to her +face as if she had received a stinging slap such as Grandma used to +give: "These things were my mother's!" + +How insulting that these traces of the vanished one should have been +hustled into a dingy hole where no self-righteous eyes could be offended +by the sight of them! How frivolous and daintily young they looked, even +in their dusty and (Barrie was furiously sure) undeserved disgrace! This +was the secret of the locked garret! + +The girl occasionally had moments of hatred for Grandma: moments when +she thought it would have delighted her to see the grim old Puritan +scoffed at and humiliated, or even tortured. At the picture of torture, +however, Barrie's heart invariably failed, and in fancy she rescued the +victim. But never had she hated Mrs. MacDonald so actively as now. + +"My mother!" she said again. "How dared the wicked old creature be such +a brute to her!" + +For Barrie was certain that these were relics of her mother's presence +in the house. She knew the history of every other woman who had ever +lived here since the place was built in the seventeenth century by an +Alexander Hillard, an ancestor of Grandma's. A forbidding old prig he +must have been, judging from the portrait over the dining-room +mantelpiece, a worthy forbear of Ann Hillard, who had married Barrie's +grandfather, John MacDonald of Dhrum. Barrie often said to herself that +she did not feel related to Grandma. She wanted to be all MacDonald +and--whatever her mother had been. But it was just that which she did +not know, and not a soul would tell. This was her grievance, the great +and ever-burning grievance as well as mystery of her otherwise +commonplace existence; a conspiracy of silence which kept the secret +under lock and key. + +Because of Mrs. MacDonald's "taboo," Barrie's mother had become her +ideal. The girl felt that whatever Grandma disapproved must be beautiful +and lovable; and there had been enough said, as well as enough left +unsaid whenever dumbness could mean condemnation, to prove that the old +woman had detested her daughter-in-law. + +All Barrie knew about the immediate past of her family was that her +father's people had once been rich, and as important as their name +implied. They were the MacDonalds of Dhrum, an island not far from Skye, +but they had lost their money; and while old Mrs. MacDonald was still a +young married woman (it seemed incredible that she could have been +young!) she and her husband, with their one boy, had come to her old +home near Carlisle. This one boy had grown up to marry--Somebody, or, +according to the standards of Grandma, Nobody, a creature beyond the +pale. The bride must have died soon, for even Barrie's elastic memory, +which could recall first steps taken alone and first words spoken +unprompted, had no niche in it for a mother's image, though father's +portrait was almost painfully distinct. It presented a young man very +tall, very thin, very sad, very dark. The frame for this portrait was +the black oak of the library wainscoting, picked out with the faded gold +on backs of books in a uniform binding of brown leather. Once a day +Barrie had been escorted by her nurse to the door of the library and +left to the tender mercies of this sad young man, who raised his eyes +resignedly from reading or writing to emit a "How do you do?" as if she +were a grown-up stranger. After this question and a suitable reply, not +much conversation followed, for neither could think of anything to say. +After an interval of strained politeness, the child was dismissed to +play or lessons--generally lessons, even from the first, for play had +never been considered of importance in Hillard House. It was nobler, in +the estimation of Grandma, and perhaps of father, to learn how to spell +"the fat cat sat on the black rug," rather than to sprawl personally on +the black rug, sporting in company with the fat cat. + +One day, Barrie remembered, she had been told that father was ill and +she could not bid him good morning. She had been treacherously glad, for +father was depressing; but when days passed and she was still kept from +him, it occurred to her that after all father was much, much nicer than +Grandma, and that his eyes, though sad, were kind. The next and last +time she ever saw him, the kind sad eyes were shut, and he was lying in +a queer bed, like a box. He was white as a doll made of porcelain which +he had once given her, and Grandma, who led the child into his room, +said that he was dead. The sleeping figure in the box was only the body, +and the soul had gone to heaven. Heaven, according to Grandma, who wore +black and had red rims round her eyes, was a place high up above the sky +where if you were a sheep you played constantly on a harp and sang +songs. If you were a goat, you did not get there at all, which might +have been preferable, except for the fact that being a goat doomed you +to burn in everlasting fire. Sheep were saved, goats were damned; and, +of course, the sheep must be deserving and clever if they had learned to +sing and play on harps. + +Barrie thought she could have been no more than three when her father +died, but she never cared to question Grandma concerning the episode, +after a day when Mrs. MacDonald said in an icy voice, "Your mother was +before God guilty of your father's death." That was years ago now, but +Barrie had not forgotten the shock, or the hateful, thwarted feeling, +almost like suffocation, when Grandma had answered an outbreak of hers +with the words, "The less you know about your mother the better for you. +And the less like her you grow up, the more chance you will have of +escaping punishment in this world and the next." + +Barrie believed that her mother's hair must have been red, for once she +had heard nurse say to Mrs. Muir, "No wonder the sight of the child's a +daily eyesore to the mistress; what with them identical dimples, and +hair of the selfsame shade, it must be a living reminder of what we'd +all be glad to forget." Barrie's hair was extremely red; and it had been +intimated to her that no red-haired girl could have cause for vanity, +because to such unfortunates beauty was denied; but loyalty to the +unknown mother forbade the child to hate her copper-coloured locks. + +In a room decorated with pale blue satin, red hair might perhaps +simulate gold. The furniture was quite new-looking and unless there had +been some special reason, no mere change of taste would have induced +economical Grandma to make a clean sweep of these practically unused +things. + +A tall mirror with its wooden back turned outward helped to screen the +furniture; and deep under the dusty surface of the glass Barrie saw her +own figure dimly reflected, like a form moving stealthily in water +beneath thin ice. It half frightened her, like seeing a spirit, and she +brought the gliding ghost to life by polishing the glass. This gave her +back suddenly the only friend she had, herself, and she was glad of the +companionship. Close to the huddled furniture stood a large trunk, a +Noah's Ark of a trunk. Perhaps it was old-fashioned, but compared to +other luggage stored here in the garret it was new and defiantly smart. +It had a rounded top, and was made of gray painted wood clamped with +iron. + +Too good to be true that it should not be locked! And yes, locked it +was, of course. But tied to the iron handle on one end was a key. It +seemed as if some one had thought that the trunk might be sent for, and +therefore the key must be kept handy. The knot was easily undone. The +key fitted the lock. Her heart beating fast, Barrie lifted the lid, and +up to her nostrils floated a faint fragrance. She had never smelled any +perfume quite like it before. The nearest thing was the scent of a +certain rose in the garden when its petals were dried, as she dried them +sometimes for a bowl in her own room. + +It was deep twilight in this corner, but Barrie's eyes were accustoming +themselves to the gloom. In the tray of the big trunk there were hats, +and masses of something fluffy and soft, yet crisp like gauze. "My +mother's things!" she said to herself in a very little voice, with a +catch of the breath at the word "mother." And gently she lifted out the +tray, to carry it nearer the light. There was a cartwheel of a Leghorn +hat in it, wreathed with cornflowers; another hat of white tulle trimmed +with a single waterlily, and a queer little bonnet made of +forget-me-nots. The fluffy stuff was a large blue scarf spangled with +pinkish sequins. + +Barrie rested the tray on a marble-topped table, and dipped deep into +the trunk for other treasures. There were several dresses, of delicate +materials and pale shades, or else of daring colours elaborately +trimmed. There was a gown of coral-tinted satin embroidered with gold, +and this was of Empire fashion, so like the styles which Barrie saw in +illustrated papers that it might have been made yesterday. Could a +red-haired woman have chosen to wear such a colour? For a moment the +girl doubted that these had been her mother's possessions; but when she +held the folds of satin under her own chin, she was startled by the +picture in the mirror. Why, coral was far more becoming than blue, which +Miss Hepburn always said was the only colour to go with red hair. It +even occurred to Barrie that she might perhaps be--well, almost pretty. + +"What if I _am_ pretty, after all?" she asked herself; for she +worshipped beauty, and it had been sad to feel that to her it was denied +forever--that never could she be like one of those lovely beings in +books with whom men fall desperately in love, and for whom they gladly +die. + +In great excitement she took off her short, badly made blue serge, and +put on the coral satin, which was low in the neck, and had tiny puffed +sleeves. The dress fastened at the back, but Barrie had grown clever in +"doing up" her own frocks without help, and she easily managed the few +hooks and eyes. The satin was creased, but in the dim light it looked +fresh and beautiful as the petals of some gorgeous flower, and the long, +straight-hanging gown with magic suddenness turned the childlike girl +into a young woman. The two massive tails of hair, which fell over +Barrie's shoulders, ending in thick curls at her waist, now offended her +sense of fitness. They were not "grown up" enough to suit the wearer of +this fairy robe; and crossing the braids at the back of her head, she +brought them round it over her ears, tying the two curls together in a +sort of bow at the top. + +"I'm like Cinderella dressed for the ball," she thought, "all except the +glass slippers," and she glanced down distastefully at the thick, +serviceable boots whose toes pointed out from under a line of gold +embroidery. + +There must once have been shoes to match this dress. Perhaps they were +at the bottom of the big trunk, whose depths she had not yet reached. +Bending down for another search, she caught sight of something in the +background which she had not seen--a large picture with its face against +the wall. + +Instantly Barrie forgot the shoes. Her heart jumped as it had jumped +when she first saw the key in the door of the garret stairs. Would they +have turned to the wall in this dark corner any picture save one? The +girl knew that in another moment she would be looking at the portrait of +her mother. + +To get at it, she had to shut the trunk and climb on the rounded lid, +for the big wooden Noah's Ark was too heavy to lift, and too firmly +wedged in among large pieces of furniture to be pushed out of the way. +Kneeling on the trunk, regardless of her finery, Barrie grasped the +picture frame with both hands and pulled it up from its narrow +hiding-place. Then, scrambling down, she backed out into a space clear +enough to permit of turning the picture, round. Then she could not help +giving a little cry, for it seemed that she was beholding a miracle. Her +own face, her own figure, the very dress she wore, and the odd way she +had looped up her red braids, were repeated on the dusty canvas. + +It seemed too wonderful to be true, yet it was true that she had chosen +to put on the gown in which its owner had long ago stood for her +portrait. And the knotted curls just above the picture-forehead were +like little ruddy leaping flames. + +Just at first glance Barrie thought that she was exactly like the +picture; but when she had wiped the dust off the canvas, and saw the +painting clearly, she began to realize and count the differences. The +portrait was that of a young woman, not a girl still almost a child. +Knowledge and love of the world glittered in the great dark eyes which +turned up ever so slightly at their outer corners in a curiously +bewitching way. Barrie's eyes were dark too, but they were hazel, and +could look gray or even greenish yellow in a bright light; but the eyes +in the picture were almost black, and full of a triumphing consciousness +of their own fascination. The artist had hinted at dimples, and these +Barrie's cheeks repeated; but the girl's face was in shape a delicate +oval, though the chin was as firm as if a loving thumb and finger had +pinched it into prominence. The face on the canvas was fuller, shorter, +squarer, and its chin was cleft in the middle. The mouth was smaller and +more pouting--a self-conscious, petulant mouth; but Barrie thought it +beautiful, with its flowerlike, half-smiling red lips. + +"Mother--mother!" she said, "darling, lovely mother! Oh, if you could +only talk to me! If you could only tell me all about yourself!" + +As she spoke aloud something moved in the garret: a board creaked, a +struck chair or table scraped along the uneven floor, and Mrs. Muir +appeared round a corner of the piled furniture. Barrie stiffened +herself, standing up straight and tall and defiant, ready for battle, +holding the portrait as if it were a shield. But she was not prepared to +see Mrs. Muir start back, stumbling against something which fell with a +sharp crash, nor to hear her give vent to a squeal of terror. It was +anger the girl had expected to rouse, not fear, and she faced the old +housekeeper from her distance in blank astonishment. + +They stood staring at each other across the shadows lit by floating +motes of gold; and Mrs. Muir's large, pallid face looked, Barrie +thought, as if it had been turned to gray stone, the gray stone of the +carved monuments in the family burial-ground. For a moment neither +spoke, but at last some words seemed to drop from the old woman's mouth, +rather than be deliberately uttered: + +"May God have mercy on me!" + +"What _is_ the matter?" Barrie exclaimed, the strange spell broken; but +instead of answering, Mrs. Muir gasped, and then broke out crying, a +queer gurgly sort of crying which frightened the girl. She did not +dislike the housekeeper, and she was so genuinely distressed as well as +surprised at this strange exhibition, that she would have set down the +portrait to run to Mrs. Muir's succour if at that moment the stillness +of the garret had not been wakened by the tap, tap of a stick. Somebody +was coming up the stairs, hobbling, limping, yet hurrying with +extraordinary energy. + +There was only one person in the house, or maybe in the world, whose +coming made that noise, that mingled hobble, rush, and tap: Grandma. + +Barrie and Mrs. Muir continued to stare at one another, but their +expression had changed. The approach of a danger to be shared in common +had made the enemies friends. "This is going to be awful. What shall we +do?" the old eyes said to the young and the young eyes said to the old. +Mrs. Muir had forgotten her burning wish and intention to scold Miss +Barribel; nevertheless, the housekeeper was not to be trusted as an +ally. Under the lash of Mrs. MacDonald's tongue she would defend +herself, and Barrie would go to the wall. But the spirit of the martyr +was in the girl, and when the first dread thrill of the tap, tap on the +garret stairs had subsided in her nerves, she remembered her wrongs and +her mother's wrongs, and was not afraid of Grandma. She girded herself +for war. + +The tapping came nearer. Mrs. MacDonald was grievously crippled with +rheumatism. Only a strong incentive could have urged her up the steep +straight stairway, with its high steps; but Grandma was indomitable. +Lurching like a ship in a heavy sea, she swept round the corner and +brought herself to anchor by planting her stick with a crash on the wavy +oak floor. There she stood, the grim and hard old craft that had +weathered a hundred storms and refused to be dismayed by any. She must +have been alarmed by the housekeeper's scream and the crash of falling +furniture, and the figure in the coral satin dress was at least as +startling for her as for her old servant; but she gave no cry, and her +face looked as it always looked, hard, and stern, and passionless, as +her gray eyes travelled from granddaughter to housekeeper, from +housekeeper to granddaughter. + +"What is the meaning of this?" she inquired in her worst voice, which +Barrie always thought like the turning of a key in an unoiled lock. + +"This, ma'am?" quavered Mrs. Muir, unused to the pangs of guilty fear, +and bitterly ashamed of them. "Why, I'd been up here getting some more +moth-balls out of the chemist's store-box, and while I was gone Miss +Barribel----" + +"You must have left the stairway door unlocked, woman." + +"For the first time in my life, ma'am, I did." The answer was an appeal +for justice if not mercy. It was an awful thing to be called "woman" by +the mistress, and to be impaled on that sharp gray gaze never sheathed +behind spectacles. Mrs. Muir was not one to quail easily, but she had +been at fault, and she realized how her small sin of omission was +leading up to consequences more momentous than anything which had +happened in this house for seventeen years. In a flash she remembered, +too, that it was just seventeen years ago this month of August since the +first wearer of the coral satin had gone forever. + +"That is no excuse," said Mrs. MacDonald. "There are some things it is a +sin to forget. Locking the garret door is one, you well know why. Now +the mischief is done." + +"Who'd ha' dreamed, ma'am, that Miss Barribel would ha' bin on the watch +like a cat for a mouse----" + +"It's no question of dreaming, but experience. You ought to know as well +as I do that unfortunately the girl is always on the watch for anything +she ought not to see or do. It is in her blood. These many years I have +struggled to crush down inherited tendencies, and keep her on the +straight path I would have her father's daughter tread. Yet how have I +succeeded? Every day shows how little. This is only one instance among +many." + +The pale cold eyes, having chilled Mrs. Muir's blood, turned to do their +work of icing Barrie into subjection; but the girl's veins ran fire. For +once, Grandma was powerless to make her feel a frozen worm. + +"I wish I'd known before that my mother's things were here," she said, +in a clear, loud voice. "I'd have broken down the door to get to them. +They're mine--all mine. I will have them." + +"You will not," Mrs. MacDonald answered. "Set that portrait back where +you found it with its face to the wall. Take off that immodest, +outrageous dress, and put on your own decent one. Fold up the scarlet +abomination and lay it in the trunk with the rest of the brood." + +Somehow that word "brood" in connection with her lost mother's gay, +pretty garments made Barrie see her grandmother through a red haze. +"It's the things you say, not mother's lovely clothes, that are exactly +like a brood of horrid, ugly imps!" she cried. "Always you've kept +everything about her a secret from me, but you can't go on doing it now. +I've seen her beautiful picture. I know it's hers without any telling. +Nothing can make me believe it isn't, no matter what you say, either of +you. So you may as well tell me all about her. I won't move till you +do." + +"So be it, then," said Mrs. MacDonald in an iron voice. "The time had to +come some day. Let it be to-day, though for your father's sake I would +have spared you the knowledge until you reached your twenty-first year. +Do not flatter yourself that your threat 'not to move' has the smallest +effect on me. It has none. If I chose, I could force you to obey me this +instant, and put those reminders of sin out of my sight. But if you have +any sense of shame in you, any affection for your father's memory, it +will be the severest punishment I can inflict to tell you the truth +while you are wearing that dress and looking at the face of that +portrait." + +Despite her inward flame of fury, which did not wane, the girl was +struck into silence by her grandmother's tone and manner. She stood very +still and white in the coral satin. + +"You can go now, Muir," said Mrs. MacDonald. "What is to come must be +between me and my son's child." + +Without a word the housekeeper turned and went away. Perhaps she was +glad to escape. And now that her own scolding was over, there was +sympathy in the last look she threw the girl. + +There was a certain vague and very dim sense of gratitude in Barrie's +heart toward Mrs. MacDonald for what she had just done. For Barrie did +not want other ears to hear evil words spoken of her mother, and she was +sure that they would be spoken. + +Not until the stairs had ceased to creak under the departing feet did +Grandma again open her lips. She had seemed to be thinking intently, as +if making up her mind how to begin. Perhaps she was praying for +guidance, Barrie told herself; but the morning and evening prayers in +the dining-room with a few servants assembled were like harangues or +didactic instructions to Heaven rather than supplications. Barrie +thought that her grandmother had created a God for herself in her own +image, and considered that she had a right, therefore, to tell Him what +to do. Why should an all-good, all-wise God create a disagreeable, +unkind person like Grandma? It didn't stand to reason. And Miss Hepburn +was of opinion that God was indeed beneficent, in spite of those eternal +fires in which she, almost equally with Grandma, fervently believed. + +When there was no further sound of the housekeeper, Mrs. MacDonald began +to speak, slowly and very deliberately. + +"My son married against my will. His father was dead, and a woman's +authority was not enough, for he was stubborn, though a good son until +_she_ got hold of him with her witcheries and her false charms. He met +her in London, and took her out of the theatre, where he had no business +to go; and if he never had gone, all our troubles would have been saved. +The woman was a play-actress--a light, frivolous creature with no more +sense of moral responsibility than a butterfly." + +"Butterflies are beautiful!" Barrie broke in. "God made them, I suppose, +just as much as He made ants, and I'm sure He loves them heaps better." +She thought of her grandmother as a big black ant, hoarding disagreeable +crumbs in a gloomy hole. + +Mrs. MacDonald went on as if she had not heard. + +"The woman married my son because he had money, and when she had spent +all she could lay her hands on--spent it on dresses and hats and every +kind of sinful vanity--she left him and his home, left her baby a year +old, to return to the theatre, I suppose. I thank God that I still had +influence with Robert my son to keep him from running after her like a +love-sick fool, and trying to bring her back to the decent home she had +disgraced. But his heart was broken by her wicked folly. Two years +they'd had together under this roof and the disappointments she had made +the boy suffer undermined his health. Two years more he was spared to +me, and then he was taken. Never once did your mother write to him or to +me, not so much as to ask whether her husband and child were alive or +dead. While Robert lived, her things remained in her room just as she +had left them the night she stole away like a thief, carrying only a +handbag. There was the furniture the poor bewitched man had bought +because he thought nothing in his mother's house was fit for his +wonderful bride. There were her clothes--the very dress you have on, +made on purpose to show off her brazen looks in a portrait she induced +my son to order from a painting man. There was everything, except her +jewels, which she was careful to take--jewels more fit for an empress of +a heathen nation than a self-respecting Englishwoman: and that is where +the root of the mischief lay. She wasn't English. I warned my son in the +beginning when he wrote of his infatuation. I said, 'It is bad enough +that she should be a play-actress; but the daughter of an _Irish father_ +and an _American mother_, that is _fatal_!' He would not listen, and he +was punished for his obstinacy. You were no comfort to him, for, as I +pointed out many a time, you were bound to grow up the living image of +the woman who had betrayed us. I told him if he lived he'd have it all +to go over again in you--maybe worse, if that could be possible, for the +sins of the fathers are visited upon the children even to the third and +fourth----" + +"But I thought it was my mother I was like," Barrie flung at her. + +"Figuratively speaking, it is the same thing, as you well understand, +unless you are a fool. Your father was not strong enough to bear the +burden which his own mistakes had bound on his shoulders. He left the +responsibility of bringing up that woman's daughter to me, and under +Heaven I have done my best. I have kept you away from vanities, hoping +that in spite of all you might remain unspotted from the world. But +blood will tell. To-day I find that, as your mother before you stole +like a thief out of the house, so you have stolen into this place, which +was forbidden you, to gratify your curiosity and your vanity. I find you +as bold as brass parading in that low-necked red dress, which I told +your mother was a shame to any woman when I saw her flaunting in it. Now +you know what she was, and what you are and are like to be. I tell you +again, take off that gown as you would tear off a poisoned toad from +your flesh; then go down to your own room and spend the rest of the day +in prayer and meditation." + +It was a triumph for Grandma that Barrie did not throw at her an +insolent answer. For a moment the girl did not reply at all. Then she +said, in a singularly quiet way, that she would take off the dress and +put it back in the trunk, but not unless her grandmother would leave her +alone to do it. Afterward, she would ask nothing better than to go to +her own room and stay there. "I _want_ to think," she added; "I have a +lot to think about. But I shall think only good things of my mother. +What you have told me has made me very, very happy. I believed that my +mother was dead. Now I know she's in the same world with me, I could +almost die of joy." + +"It is like her daughter to feel that," Mrs. MacDonald returned +bitterly. "If you are not downstairs in ten minutes, I will have the +door locked and keep you in the garret without food or drink or light +for twenty-four hours." + +"I should _love_ that!" exclaimed Barrie suddenly, in the manner of her +old self. Nevertheless, she descended and advertised her return to the +prosaic world by closing the door loudly in less than ten minutes after +Mrs. MacDonald had gone. + +She walked straight into her own room and bolted herself in. If Grandma +had seen her then, she could not have helped admitting that there was as +much of Robert MacDonald in the lines of the girl's face as of the +guileful Barbara Ballantree. + + + + +II + + +No notice was taken of Barrie until half-past eight o'clock that +night--half-past eight being considered night in Mrs. MacDonald's +house-hold. At that time, just as the hour was announced by an old +friend, the grandfather clock on the landing, who had seen the girl go +into the garret, Miss Janet Hepburn knocked at Barrie's door. + +"Barribel," she called, as always pronouncing the fanciful name with a +certain reluctance, partly on principle, partly because it was known to +have been chosen by "that woman." "Barribel, by your grandmother's +permission, I've brought you some supper. Open your door and take in the +tray." + +A voice answered from behind the panel, "I'll open the door if you will +bring in the tray yourself." + +Miss Hepburn hesitated for a moment. In the dun gaslight of the corridor +her sharp profile looked eager as the face of a hungry bird. She thought +quickly. Mrs. MacDonald had not yet finished her own supper. No such +frivolity as evening dinner was known at Hillard House. Soup after dark +except for an invalid would have been considered a pitfall; but the old +lady liked to linger alone over the last meal of the day, reading a +religious volume by the light of a lamp placed on the table at the left +of her plate. When Miss Hepburn and Barrie finished they always, as a +matter of form, asked to be excused, though they both knew, and Mrs. +MacDonald knew that they knew, how more than willing she was to be left +alone with her book. At a quarter past nine the servants were called, +they having already supped on bread and cheese. A chapter, preferably +from the Old Testament, was read, a prayer offered up, and at +nine-thirty precisely the family was ready to go to bed. Miss Hepburn +had reason to believe that for three quarters of an hour she was free to +do as she wished, and she wished as ardently as she was able to wish +anything, to see Barrie. She had heard next to nothing of the day's +events from Mrs. MacDonald, whose companion she was supposed to be now +that the girl no longer needed her whole morning's services as +governess. And from Mrs. Muir, into whose room she had slipped at +tea-time, very little had been dragged out. Yet it was certain that +something tremendous had happened. If she wanted to know what, her one +hope lay with Barrie. + +"Very well," she said, with the proper mingling of kindness and dignity, +"I will bring in the tray." + +The door immediately opened, and closed again after the flat figure of +Miss Hepburn. Barrie thought that if the good Janet had been born a fish +she would have been a skate, or at roundest a sole. Even her profile was +flat, as if the two sides of her face had been pressed firmly together +by a strong pair of hands. She wore her hair very flat on her head, +which was flat behind; and just at the nape of the neck was a flat +drab-tinted knot, of almost the same grayish-yellowish brown as her +complexion. On her flat breast was a flat brooch with a braid of pale +hair as a background. Even her voice sounded flat in its effort at +meekness and self-repression, calculated to appease Mrs. MacDonald in +trying circumstances. Miss Hepburn looked about forty-five; but she had +always looked forty-five for the last twelve years, and Barrie could +hardly have believed that she had ever been younger. + +"Your grandmother thinks that you have now been sufficiently punished," +she announced, "and you are to come down as usual to prayers." + +"Oh, am I?" echoed Barrie. "We'll see about that. As for punishment, if +it pleases Grandma to think she's punished me, she may. I don't care. +She couldn't have made me come out of my room to-day if she tried. But I +don't bear _you_ any grudge, Heppie. I'm very glad to see you. I want +you to tell me things." + +"What things?" inquired Miss Hepburn. "I didn't come to talk. I am here +simply to see you begin your supper. You must be--er--very hungry." + +"I've had plenty of food all day," said Barrie--"food for thought." She +cleared a place on the one table by pushing a few school-books out of +the way. She had been sitting in the twilight, for she was not allowed +to have matches. Their possession might have tempted her to burn gas +after ten o'clock, when at latest all lights had to be out. Now, Janet +Hepburn brought a box of matches on the tray; and the gas, when lit, +showed the sparsely furnished room with its gray-painted, pictureless +wall, against which Barrie's red hair glowed like a flame. Outside the +open window the old ivy and the young peeping roses, which had been +green and pink and gold in the twilight, lost their colour as the gas +flared up, and evening out of doors darkened into night. + +"I've brought you bread and cheese with a slice of cold beef," announced +Miss Hepburn, "and Mrs. Muir has baked you a potato, but I am not sure +whether your grandmother would approve of that. She distinctly said a +cold supper." + +"Will you please thank Mrs. Muir for me?" Barrie asked. + +"You can thank her to-morrow." + +"I mayn't have a chance. Do thank her for me to-night. Say I wanted you +to." + +"Why are you in such a hurry?" + +"Oh--just _because_. Will you?" + +"Yes, I will try, after prayers, when she is shutting up the house. Now, +eat your supper." + +"I don't want to, yet. Please, Heppie, dear Heppie, tell me what you +know about my mother. You weren't here when she was, but you're a kind +of cousin of Grandma's, and you must have heard all about her." + +"If I had, that would not give me the right to tell you," replied Miss +Hepburn, clinging desperately to her stiff dignity, despite the pleading +voice and the "dear, dear Heppie," against which, being one third human, +she was not quite proof. It was always difficult not to be beguiled by +Barrie. + +"I've only you I _can_ come to," said the girl. "You're the one person +in the house except me who isn't old and dried-up." + +This was a stroke of genius, but the genius of instinct, for Barrie had +no experience in the art of cajolery. "Was I named after my mother?" + +"Only partly. She was a Miss Ballantree, and her first name was Barbara, +I believe; but she disliked it, and when her husband wished to have the +child christened the same, she insisted on Barribel. It seems that is an +old Scottish name also, or Celtic perhaps, for she was Irish, though I +know nothing of her family. But Barribel has always sounded frivolous to +me." + +"Yet you would never call me Barrie when I begged you to. I wonder if +there ever was another girl who had to make up her own pet name, and +then had nobody who would use it except herself? When I talk to myself I +always say 'Barrie,' in different tones of voice, to hear how it sounds. +I try to say it as if I loved myself, because no one else loves +me--unless maybe you do; just a tiny, tiny bit. Do you, Heppie?" + +"Of course I have an affection for you," Miss Hepburn returned +decorously, half alarmed at so pronounced a betrayal of her inner +emotions, "and naturally your grandmother----" + +"Let's not talk about her now," Barrie pleaded. "Was my mother young +when she was married?" + +"Quite young, I understand--about nineteen." + +"Only nineteen--not very much older than I am. And she stood two years +of Grandma and this house!" + +"Barribel, you forget yourself." + +"If I do, it's because I'm thinking about my mother. Twenty--twenty-one; +that's what she was when she--went away!" + +"She must have been. Of course, it is not my place to----" + +"No, dear Heppie, I know it isn't, so don't, please. Could even you +blame her for wanting to run away from this awful house, and she an +Irish girl?" + +"She was half American, I have heard." + +"Perhaps, for all I know about Americans, that made it even harder for +her to stand Grandma--and everything else. Anyhow, _I_ don't blame +her--not one bit." + +"What! not for deserting her loving husband and her helpless child?" + +"All day I've been wondering if father knew how to show his love for +her. He didn't to me. I can remember that. I used to be afraid of him +and glad to escape. Perhaps he made _her_ feel like that too--oh, +without meaning it. I'm sure he was good. But so is Grandma +good--horribly good. There's something about this house that spoils +goodness, and turns it to a kind of poison. It must have been awfully +depressing to be married to father if one had any _fun_ in one, and +loved to laugh. As for the 'helpless child,' I dare say I was a horrid +little squalling brat with scarlet hair and a crimson face and a vile +temper, that no one could possibly love." + +"It is a mother's duty to love her child, in spite of its appearance; +and if it has a bad temper, all the more should she endeavour by prayer +and example to eradicate its faults in bringing it up. At least, so I +have always been taught. Personally, of course," Heppie hastened to add, +"I know nothing of motherhood and its duties." + +"Then you never played dolls," said Barrie gravely. "I never had but one +doll--the porcelain-headed darling father gave me. Grandma let me keep +it because it came from him, and I did love it dearly! I do still. I +learned just how to be a mother, playing with it. I know I shall be a +perfectly sweet mother when I have a child." + +"Barribel, you should not say such things. It is most unmaidenly." + +"I don't see why," Barrie argued. "Perhaps my mother's people wouldn't +let her say such things when she was a young girl, and then she began to +be an actress, and was so busy she never had time to learn much about +children and duty and that sort of thing. But I won't be unmaidenly any +more, dear Heppie--at least, if I can help it--if you'll only do me one +great favour." + +"What is it?" Miss Hepburn inquired cautiously. + +"Tell me what's become of my mother. Oh, you needn't be afraid! Grandma +let it out that she's alive. She's not even old yet--not so _very_ old. +You must tell me what's happened to her." + +"Nothing creditable, I fear," replied Janet, finding a certain sad +pleasure in the sins of another, so different from her own good self. +"She has, I believe, continued to act on the stage." + +"I'm sure she must be the greatest success!" exclaimed Barrie. + +"As to that, I have no means of knowing. I always skip news of the +theatre in reading the papers aloud to Mrs. MacDonald." + +"Oh, just to _think_ that any day I might have seen things about my +mother in the newspapers, and perhaps even her pictures! I wish I'd +known! I'd have got at the papers somehow before they were cremated. Now +I understand why Grandma tries to keep them out of my hands." + +"There were many reasons for that," said Miss Hepburn, loyal to her +employer's convictions and her own pallid copies of those convictions. +"No really _nice_ girl ever reads the newspapers, or would wish to do +so. They are full of wickedness. There is much I have to miss out." + +"Do you think my mother has kept her married name for the stage?" Barrie +wanted to know. + +"That," answered Miss Hepburn almost eagerly, "has been poor Mrs. +MacDonald's greatest trial--except your father's death. To think that +the name of her son--the name of his great ancestors--should be bandied +about in the theatres!" + +"Then she does call herself MacDonald!" + +"I fear that is the case. But now it will be useless asking me any more +questions, for I shall not answer them. Will you let me see you begin +your supper?" + +"No, dear Heppie, for I'm not hungry; and I want to think. Thank you so +much for talking to me, and being so kind. I believe you'd often like to +be kind when you daren't." + +Miss Hepburn looked slightly surprised. She had expected to be teased +for further information, rather than thanked cordially for that already +doled out. "I try to do my duty both to your grandmother and you," she +returned. "I really must go now, and I shall not have to lock your door +again, as Mrs. MacDonald considers the punishment over. You must be +careful to come down the minute you hear the bell, and not be late for +prayers." + +"Good-bye, if you must go," said Barrie, following the small, stiff +figure to the door. "I--I wish you'd kiss me, Heppie." + +Janet actually started, and a blush produced itself in a way peculiar to +her face, appearing mostly upon the nose, where it lingered rosily at +the end. Kisses were not exchanged under Mrs. MacDonald's roof. Barrie's +was a most disquieting suggestion, and sounded as if she had a +presentiment that she was about to die or, at the best, be very ill. +Still, there was no real impropriety in an ex-governess kissing her late +pupil; and possibly the desire revealed a spirit of repentance and +meekness on the part of Barribel, which deserved to be encouraged. +Without spoken questions, therefore, Miss Hepburn pecked with her +unkissed virgin lips the firm pink satin of Barrie's cheek. The deed +seemed curiously epoch-making, and stirred her oddly. She was ashamed of +the feeling she had, rather like a bird waking up from sleep and +fluttering its wings in her breast. Her nose burned; and she hastened +her departure lest Barribel should notice some undignified difference in +manner or expression. + +"I shall see you again downstairs in a few minutes," she said hurriedly. + +Barrie did not answer, and Miss Hepburn softly shut the door. + +Instantly the girl began making a sandwich of the bread and cheese, +which she wrapped up in a clean handkerchief. She would not take the +napkin, because that belonged to Grandma. Hanging up in the wardrobe was +a long cloak of the MacDonald hunting tartan, which looked as if it had +been fashioned out of a man's plaid. On each side was a pocket; and into +one of these Barrie slipped her little package. Already made up and +lying on the floor of the wardrobe was another parcel, very much bigger, +rolled in dark green baize which might have been a small table cover. +From a shelf Barrie snatched a tam-o'-shanter, also a dark green in +colour. Absent-mindedly she pulled it over her head, and the green +brightened the copper red of her hair. Slipping her arms into the +sleeves of the queer cloak, she caught up her bundle, turned down the +gas, and peeped cautiously out into the corridor. No one was there. The +house was very still. Grandma's bell for reading and prayer would not +ring yet for twenty minutes or more. The girl tiptoed out, locked the +door behind her, and slipped the key into the pocket with the +sandwiches. If any one came to call her to prayers, it would appear that +she had shut herself in and was refusing to answer. + + + + +III + + +"Car-l-i-s-l-e!" The Caruso voice of a gifted railway porter intoned the +word in two swelling syllables, so alluring in their suggestion to +passengers that it was strange the whole train did not empty itself upon +the platform. So far from this being the case, however, not more than +six men and half as many women, one with two sleepy, whimpering +children, obeyed the siren call. + +Five of the men looked for porters, and eventually culled them, like +stiff-stemmed wayside plants; but the sixth man had not set his foot on +the platform before he was accosted by two would-be helpers. + +What there was about him so different from, and so superior to, his +fellow-travellers that it was visible to the naked eye at night, in a +not too brilliantly lighted railway station, could be explained only by +experts in the art of deciding at a glance where the best financial +results are to be obtained. + +The man was not richly dressed, was not decked out with watch-chains and +scarf-pins and rings, nor had he a shape to hint that the possession of +millions had led to self-indulgence. Many people would have passed him +by with a glance, thinking him exactly like other men of decent birth +and life who knew how to wear their clothes; but railway porters and +romantic women (are there other women?) have a special instinct about +men. The two female passengers unhampered by howling babies looked at +him as they went by, and they would instinctively have known, though +even they could not have explained, why the porters unhesitatingly +selected this man as prey. + +He was not very tall, and not very handsome, and he was not conspicuous +in any way: but if he had been an actor, a deaf and blind audience would +somehow have felt with a thrill that he had come upon the stage. The +secret was not intricate: only something of which people talk a dozen +times a day without knowing technically what they mean--personal +magnetism. He was rather dark and rather thin, rather like a conquering +soldier in his simple yet authoritative way of giving orders for what he +wanted done. He had eyes which were of an almost startling blueness in +his sunburned face: a peculiarity that made strangers look twice at him +sometimes. If his features hardened into a certain cynical grimness when +he thought about things that really mattered, his smile for things that +didn't matter was singularly pleasant. + +He did not smile at the porters as he pointed out that, besides his +suit-case, he had only one small piece of luggage in the van, to be +taken to his automobile; and there were other passengers who looked much +jollier and more amenable than he: yet it was to him that a girl spoke +as he was about to walk past her, after his chosen porter. + +"Oh! Will you please be so very kind as to wait a minute!" she +exclaimed. + +Her "Oh!" was like a barrier suddenly thrown down in front of him. Of +course he stopped; and if he were not greatly astonished it was only +because so many odd things had happened to him in life, in railway +stations and drawing rooms and in all sorts of other places, that it +took a great deal to make him feel surprise, and still more to make him +show it. + +He was roused to alertness, however, when he saw what manner of girl +invited him to "wait a minute." He had never seen one like her before. +And yet, of whose face did hers piquantly remind him? He had a dim +impression that it was quite a celebrated face, and no wonder, if it +were like this one. The only odd thing was that he could not remember +whose the first face had been, for such features could never let +themselves be wiped off memory's slate. + +The girl was almost a child, apparently, for her hair hung in two long +bright red braids over her extraordinary cloak; and her big eyes were +child's eyes. What her figure was like, except that she was a tall, +long-legged, upstanding young creature, no one could judge, not even an +anatomist, because of that weird wrap. As a cloak it was a shocking +production--a hideous, unbelievable contribution to cloakhood from the +hands of a mantle-making vandal--but it caught the man's interest, +because before his eyes danced the hunting tartan of the MacDonalds of +Dhrum. Once that particular combination of green, blue, red, brown, +purple, and white had flashed to his heart a signal of warm human love, +daring and high romance; but he believed that long ago his heart had +shut against such deceiving signals. Across the way in, he had printed +in big letters "NO THOROUGHFARE," and was unconsciously well pleased +with himself because he had done this, thinking it a proof of mature +wisdom, keen insight into his brother man--especially perhaps his sister +woman--and a general tendency toward scientific, bomb-proof modernity, +the triumph of intellect over emotion. And in truth his experiences had +been of a kind to change the enthusiastic boy he once had been into the +cynical, hard-headed man he was now. Nevertheless, as he looked at the +girl in the tartan cloak, he heard within himself the war-cry of the +clan MacDonald, "Fraoch Eilean!" and he smelt the heather of the purple +isle of Dhrum. + +It was many years since he had seen that strangely formed island-shape +cut in amethyst against the gold of sunset sky and sea; but the purple +and the gold were unforgettable, even for one who thought he had +forgotten and lost the magic long ago. + +She was a beautiful girl in spite of the ugly tam and the bag of a +cloak. Her eyes had the deep light of clear streams that have never +reflected other things than trees, shadowing banks of wild flowers, and +skies arching above. There was something quaintly arresting about her, +apart from the odd clothes. + +The man stopped. His porter lumbered on sturdily; but that was just as +well. The girl had asked him to wait: so he waited in silence to hear +what she would say. + +"Will you please look at a thing I want very much to sell?" she began. +"Perhaps you'll like to buy it. Nobody else will--but," she added +hastily, "I think you'll admire it." + +He looked her steadily in the eyes for a few seconds, and she returned +the look, in spite of herself rather than because she was determined to +give him gaze for gaze. + +"Why do you ask me to buy what you have to sell?" he answered by a +question. "Is it for charity or the cause of the Suffragettes?" + +"Oh, no, it's not for charity!" the girl exclaimed. "And I don't know +what you mean by Suffragettes." + +The man laughed. "Where have you lived?" he questioned her. + +She blushed for an ignorance which evidently struck strangers as +fantastic. "Near Carlisle with my grandmother," she explained; "but +she's never let me have friends, or make visits, or read the papers. +I've just left her house now, and I want to go to London. I _must_ go to +London, but I haven't any money, and they won't trust me to pay them for +my ticket when I get some. So I tried to sell a piece of jewellery I +have, and nobody would buy it. I thought when I saw you come out of the +train that maybe _you_ would. I don't know why--but you're different. +You look as if you'd know all about valuable things--and whether they're +real; and as if you'd be--not stupid, or like these other people." + +"Thank you," he returned, and smiled his pleasant smile. If another man +had described such a meeting with a pretty and apparently ingenuous girl +in a railway station at ten o'clock at night, he would still have +smiled, but not the same smile. He would have been sure that the girl +was a minx, and the man a fool. He recognized this unreasonableness in +himself; nevertheless, he had no doubt that his own instinct about the +girl was right. She was genuine of her sort, whatever her strange sort +might be; and though he laughed at himself for the impulse, he could not +help wanting to do something for her, in an elder-brother way. For an +instant his thoughts went to the woman who was waiting for and expecting +him, the train being late. But quickly the curtain was drawn before her +portrait in his mind. + +"You say your grandmother never let you make friends," he said, "yet you +seem to believe in your own knowledge of human nature." + +"Because, what you aren't allowed to see or do, you think of a great +deal more. Knowledge _jumps_ into your head in such an interesting way," +the girl answered, with an apologetic air, as a witness might if wishing +to conciliate a cross-questioning counsel. "Here's the jewellery I want +to sell. It was my father's, and belonged to his father and +grandfather." + +She opened her ungloved right hand to reveal a bonnet brooch of +beautiful and very ancient workmanship showing the crest of the +MacDonalds of Dhrum set with a fine cairngorm and some exquisite old +paste. It must have come down through many fathers to many sons, for it +was at least two hundred years old. + +"You would sell this?" the man exclaimed. + +"Well, I _must_ get to London," she excused herself, "and it's the only +thing I have worth selling. I _knew_ you'd see it was good. The others +would hardly look at it, except one quite horrid man who squeezed my +hand when I was showing him the brooch, and that made me behave so +rudely to him he went away at once." + +"Was your father a MacDonald of Dhrum?" asked the man who had not +squeezed her hand, and exhibited no wish to do so, though his eyes never +left her face. + +"Yes. Why, do you know our tartan and crest?" + +"I--thought I recognized them." For an instant he was tempted to add an +item of information concerning himself, but he beat down the impulse. +"If you want money, you can raise something on this without selling it," +he went on. "It would be a pity to part with an heirloom." + +"I didn't know I could do that," said the girl. "Of course it would be +better. I'm going to London to find somebody--my mother," she continued, +in a different tone. "When I get to her, she'll give me money, of +course, and I can pay you back, if you'll lend me enough now to buy my +ticket--and perhaps a little, a very little, more, because I mayn't find +her at once. I may have to go on somewhere else after London, though I +hope not. _Will_ you lend me some money and keep the brooch till I pay?" + +"I might be prepared to do that," said the man slowly. "But you surely +don't mean to start off for London alone, in the night." + +"Why not?" she argued. "There's no danger in railway trains, is there? +I've never been in one yet, but I've read lots about them in books, and +I think I shall love travelling." + +"You've never been in a train!" + +"No, because I was born at Grandma's house, and she never travels +anywhere, and I've always lived with her. If my father hadn't died, and +my mother hadn't--hadn't been obliged to go away when I was a baby, +probably I should have been just like other girls. But now I suppose I +must be very different, and seem stupid and queer. Every one stared as +if I were a wild animal when I was asking my way to the railway station. +But you will lend me the money, won't you, if you think the brooch is +worth it, because one of the porters told me there'd be a train for +London soon?" + +"When people are making up their minds to lend money to strangers, they +always put a number of questions first," answered the man gravely, "so I +must ask you to excuse me if I catechize you a little before I engage +myself to do anything. Do you expect any one to meet you in London, Miss +MacDonald?" + +"Dear me, no!" and she could not help laughing to hear herself called +"Miss MacDonald," a dignity never bestowed on her before. "I don't know +any one in London--unless my mother's there." + +"Oh, indeed! But London's quite a big place, bigger a good deal than +Carlisle, you know, so you may have some difficulty in finding your +mother if you aren't sure of the address." + +"She hasn't an address--I mean, I don't know it. But she's an actress on +the stage. I think she must be so beautiful and splendid that almost +every one will have heard of her, so all I will have to say is, 'Please +tell me whether Mrs. MacDonald the actress is in London?'" + +"Not Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald!" This time he did look surprised. + +"Ballantree was her name before she was married," the girl admitted. +"And her Christian name's Barbara. Do you know her?" + +"I do, slightly," replied the man. "But I had no idea that she----" He +broke off abruptly, looking more closely than ever at the vivid face +under the knitted tam. + +"I suppose, if you don't know her very well, she never spoke to you +about having a daughter?" Barrie asked. + +"No, she never spoke of it. But look here, Miss MacDonald, as I happen +to be an acquaintance--I daren't call myself a friend--of your mother's, +you'd better let me advise you a little, without thinking that I'm +taking a liberty. From what you say, I have the idea that you've not had +time to write Mrs. Bal--I mean, Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald that you're +coming to pay her a visit." + +"No, I only made up my mind to-day," said Barrie carefully. "Grandma and +she aren't good friends, so my mother and I--don't write to each other. +Grandma doesn't like the stage, and as you know mother, I don't mind +telling you she's been perfectly horrid--Grandma, I mean. She let me +believe that mother was dead--just because she's an actress, which I +think must be splendid. That's why I'm running away, and wild horses +couldn't drag me back." + +"I see. Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald will be taken by surprise when you +turn up." + +"Yes. It will be like things I've dreamed about and invented to make +into story-books--really interesting story-books such as Grandma +wouldn't let me read, for she approves only of Hannah More. Won't mother +be delighted?" + +"Just at first her surprise may overcome her natural joy," said the man. +"And here is where my advice comes in. It's this: Let the news be broken +to your mother before you try to see her. That would be the wisest +thing. Besides, she mayn't be in London now--probably isn't. It's past +the season there; and Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald is one of those +beautiful and successful people, you know, who are generally found at +places in the most fashionable time of the year. If she's acting, it +will be easy to find out where she is from one of the stage papers. She +could be written to, and----" + +"No, I _want_ to surprise her!" Barrie persisted. "I want first to see +her, for I know she must be a darling and perfectly lovely; and then I +want to say, 'Mother, here's your daughter Barribel, that you named +yourself, come to love you and live with you always.'" + +"Er--yes. It sounds charming," replied the man, gazing at a large +advertisement of a new food with quite an odd look in his eyes. "If your +heart's set on that scene I've no right to try and dissuade you; but +anyhow, the thing to do is to find out where she is before you start, +for you might get to London only to have to turn round and come back. In +August she's more likely to be in Scotland than in London." + +"Oh, is she?" Barrie's face told all her doubt and disappointment. "But +I can't wait. I must go somewhere. If I don't take a train, Mrs. Muir +our housekeeper and perhaps Miss Hepburn may come here looking for me +from Hillard House. I'm afraid they found out at prayer-time that I'd +gone, and when they've searched all over the house and garden, they----" + +"So you make no bones about running away from home, Miss MacDonald?" + +"Neither would you in my place if you and your mother were insulted." + +"Perhaps not," the man admitted. "I did something more or less of the +sort when I was a year or two older than you--about seventeen----" + +"But I'm over seventeen already," Barrie hastened to boast. "I'm +eighteen." + +The man smiled at her, his nicest smile. "Eighteen! That's very old, and +it's only living the retired life you have that's kept you young. Still, +there it is! You _have_ lived a retired life, and it's--er--it's left +its mark on you. It will take at least some months to efface it, even +under your mother's wing. That means you're a bit handicapped among a +lot of people who haven't lived retired lives. I don't advise you to go +back to your grandmother's house, because you wouldn't anyhow--and +besides, you know your own business better than I do; only, of course, +you'll have to write to her. As an acquaintance of your mother's, I'd +like to put you with some kind people for to-night until we can find out +for you just where Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald is. Don't you see that this +would be a sensible arrangement, if the people were all right, instead +of starting off on a wild-goose chase?" + +"Ye-es, perhaps. And it's very kind of you to take an interest for my +mother's sake," said Barrie, trying not to show her disappointment +ungraciously. + +"Of course, for your mother's sake," he repeated, with an expressionless +expression. "I call myself Somerled," he added, watching her face as he +made his announcement. + +She caught him up quickly. "Why, that was the name of the great leader +from the North who founded the Clan MacDonald!" + +"You know about him, do you--in spite of the retired life?" + +"Not to know would disgrace a MacDonald. And just because I _have_ led a +retired life I've had more time to learn than girls in the world. I know +a good deal--really I do. I've read--heaps of things, behind Grandma's +back. Somerled of the Isles is a hero of mine. I didn't know any one had +a right to his name nowadays." + +"I dare to bear it, like a Standard, with or without right, though +unworthily. Somerled of the Isles was my hero too." + +"Then you're Scottish, like me," said Barrie. "I don't feel related to +Grandma's people, and I don't know anything about mother's. But if +you're going to be my friend for her sake, I'm glad your name is +Somerled. It's splendid!" + +"Yes, it's splendid to be called Somerled," the man agreed, faintly +emphasizing the substituted word. "And I'm proud to be a Scot, though +I've lived half my life in America, and they think of me there as an +American. I've been thinking of myself that way too for seventeen years. +But blood's a good deal thicker than water, and I was born on the island +of Dhrum." + +"Our island!" exclaimed Barrie. "That makes it seem as if we were +related." + +"I hoped it would, because a Somerled has a right to the trust of a +MacDonald. Will you trust me to motor you to my friend Mrs. West, who's +stopping just now with her brother in a nice little house just outside +Carlisle? It's named Moorhill Farm, and belongs to a Mrs. Keeling, who +has lent it to Mrs. West. I'm going there, and they'll be glad to keep +you until we can learn where you ought to meet your mother. Perhaps you +know of Mrs. Keeling and her house?" + +Barrie glanced at him half longingly, half doubtfully. She had been +looking forward to the adventure of travelling to London; but if there +were less chance of her mother being there than elsewhere, London was +wiped off the map. Still Barrie was loth to abandon her plan. To do so +was like admitting failure--in spite of the motor, which she would love +to try. She had never been within two yards of a motor-car. + +"I've seen Mrs. Keeling in church," she said. "She has stick-out teeth. +Grandma bows to her. But how can you tell that Mrs. West will be glad to +have me?" + +"I'll answer for her hospitality," came Somerled's assurance. "You'll +like Mrs. West. She's a widow, and a sweet woman. Her brother's as nice +as she is--Basil Norman. Perhaps you've heard of them? They write books +together--stories about travel and love and motor-cars." + +"No," Barrie confessed. "I don't know any authors later than Dickens, +unless I see their names in book-sellers' windows, when I come into town +with Heppie--Miss Hepburn. If you don't mind, I think I'd rather not go +to Mrs. West's. I'm afraid of strangers." + +"Are you afraid of me, then?" + +"No-o. But you're a man. I'm afraid of women. They stare at your +clothes, and I know mine are horrid." + +"Mrs. West won't stare. She'll help you buy pretty things to wear when +you go to your mother." + +"Will she? But how shall I buy them? I haven't any money." + +"You'll have money from your father's brooch. Now--will you trust me and +come to Mrs. Keeling's house, as your grandmother bows to her?" + +"I'd rather go to a hotel, thank you." + +"Nonsense. You can't go alone to a hotel." + +"Why?" + +"It wouldn't be proper for Miss MacDonald of Dhrum." + +"Now you talk like Grandma!" + +"I talk common sense. I'll lend you no money to spend in a hotel." + +"Then take me to Mrs. West," the girl said, as she might have said, +"Take me to the scaffold." + +Somerled laughed with amusement and triumph. He was astonishingly +interested in his adventure, astonishingly pleased at the prospect of +continuing it. Surely this girl was unique! He believed in comparatively +few things, but he believed in her: for not to do so would have been +indeed ungrateful, as she was ready to prove her implicit belief in him. + +"A daughter of Mrs. Bal!" he said to himself as he led Mrs. Bal's +daughter to his motor-car. + +Poor Barrie would have believed in almost any man who owned a motor. + + + + +IV + + +Aline West and her brother, Basil Norman, were walking slowly up and +down the garden path in front of the old-fashioned manor farmhouse lent +to them for ten days by an admiring friend. They were waiting for +Somerled, who had expressed a desire not to be met at the station; and +listening for the teuf-teuf of motors along the distant road prevented +Mrs. West from attending to her brother's suggestions. He had had an +inspiration for the new novel they were planning together, and was +explaining it eagerly, for Basil was a born story-teller. Only, he had +never found time for story-telling until lately. He was tremendously +happy in his new way of life, although only a terrible illness which had +closed others paths of success had opened this door for him. It did not +matter in the least that Aline got the credit. Not only was he glad that +she should have praise, but he was convinced that it ought to be hers. +If she had not thought of asking him to try his hand at helping her four +years ago, when the incentive to live seemed gone, he might have been +driven to put himself out of the way. It was to her, therefore, that he +owed everything; and though success as an author had never come to Aline +until after the first book they wrote together, that, to Basil Norman's +mind, was no more than a coincidence, and he had never ceased to feel +that she was generous in letting his name appear with hers on their +title pages. + +"I wonder if anything can have happened to him!" Aline murmured. + +"Which, Dick or Claud?" her brother asked, puzzled. Dick was to be their +hero, Claud the villain. Basil had been engaged in outlining the two +characters for his sister's approval. + +"No. Ian Somerled," she explained almost crossly, though her voice was +sweet, because it was never otherwise than sweet. "Either the train's +late or----" + +"I'd have met him with pleasure," Basil reminded her. + +"It would be _fatal_ to do anything he didn't wish," she answered. "He's +a man who knows exactly what he wants, and hates to have people go +against his directions in the smallest things." + +Norman looked at her rather anxiously through the soft summer darkness +that was hardly darkness. She was walking beside him with her hands +clasped behind her back and her head bent. He thought her extremely +pretty, and wondered if Somerled thought so too. But he wished that she +did not care quite so much what Somerled thought. And he was not sure +whether she were right about what Somerled liked. + +"I wonder if we understand Somerled?" he asked, as if he were +questioning himself aloud. "After all, we don't know him very well." + +"I do," Aline said. "I know him like a book. He's bored to death with +everything nearly. Only I--we--haven't bored him yet. And we must take +care not to." + +"You could never bore anybody," Basil assured her loyally. "But--I wish +you'd tell me something honestly, old girl." + +"Not if you call me that!" She laughed a little. "It wouldn't matter if +I were twenty-five instead of--never mind! I don't want people to think, +when they hear you, 'Many a true word spoken in jest.'" + +"Somerled's older than you are, anyhow," Basil consoled her. + +"I should think so--ages! Don't forget, dear, I'm only just thirty. I +don't look more, do I--truly?" + +"Not a day over twenty-eight." + +She was disappointed that he did not say less. She had been twenty-nine +for years, and had just begun, for a change, to state frankly that she +was thirty. She had never been able to forgive Basil for being younger +than she, but she could trust him not to advertise his advantage. He +really was a dear! She hated herself for being jealous of him sometimes. +There were things he could do, there were thoughts that came to him as +easily as homing birds, which were with her only a pretence: but she +pretended eagerly, sincerely, even with prayer. She really yearned to be +at heart all that she tried to make Somerled and other people believe +her to be. And if she tried hard to be genuine all through, surely in +time---- + +"What I want you to tell me is," Basil was going on, "are you in l--how +much do you really care about this man?" + +"'This man?'" she repeated. "How serious that sounds; like 'Do you take +this man for better, for worse?' Well, I confess that I _should_, if he +asked me." + +"Then you must be in love," her brother concluded. "Because you don't +need his money. We make as many thousands as we used to make hundreds; +and it's all yours, really, or ought to be." + +She was ashamed of not contradicting him, yet she did not contradict. +She could not bear to put in words what in her heart she knew to be the +truth: that their success was due to Basil, the dreamer of dreams; that +her little smartnesses and pretty trivialities could never have carried +them to the place where they now stood together. The worst part of her +wanted Basil to think, wanted every one to think, that she was the +important partner, that she was actually _all_ in the partnership. And +it was too miserably easy to produce this impression. Basil was so +unassuming, thought so poorly of himself, realized so little how she +leaned upon him in their work, admired her so loyally! + +"Ian Somerled is more of a man than any other man I ever met," she said. +"I like him for his strength and for his indifference. Everything about +him appeals to me--even his money; for making it in the way he did was +one expression of his power. Just because they say he'll never marry, I +want----" + +"I can understand how a woman may feel about him," Basil said gently, +when she suddenly broke off. + +"I thought I was perfectly happy the day he asked us to tour Scotland +with him in his car; and when he promised to spend a few days with us +here, after he'd got through his business in London," Aline went on, "it +was like _honey_ to hear him say that he didn't want to come if any one +else was to be here. He'd enjoy it only with you and me alone. But ever +since I saw him I've been worrying until I'm quite wretched." + +"Worrying about what?" + +"Whether he _suspects_ anything." + +"Why, what is there to suspect?" + +"Then _you_ don't? I'm glad, for you're both men. If you don't suspect, +why should he?" + +"You'll have to tell me what you're driving at. I shan't have an easy +minute till you do--and that means I can't write. You know I won't give +you away." + +"A woman wouldn't need telling. That's why I like men! You never +guessed, then, that I've been doing it all? I was the power behind the +throne. I made him invite us, and----" + +"The deuce you did! Why, I heard him ask you. It was on board ship, +and----" + +"And before he asked, unless you were deaf, you heard me say I couldn't +work up any enthusiasm about the next book we'd promised our publisher +to write because we'd sold our last car and hadn't time to make up our +minds about a new one, and we had no friends to give us good 'tips' +about the country. It was then he asked me what country we wanted to +write about, and I said Scotland." + +"Well, yes, I suppose I heard you say all that, now you remind me of it. +But it wasn't hinting, because you didn't know he was going to Scotland +for his rest cure." + +"Oh, yes, I did. I read it in the New York _Sun_ before we sailed. And +when I said we'd accept his invitation if he'd accept ours, Mrs. Keeling +hadn't offered me this house." + +"You said she had." + +"I was sure she would, because she told me I had only to ask. She was +dying to lend it. She wanted to be able to tell everybody that Aline +West and Basil Norman lived in her house for a fortnight in August. It's +a great feather in her cap; and Ian Somerled coming to visit us here is +something she'll _never_ get over as long as she lives. I marconied her +an hour after he'd said that he would come to us after London, and we'd +begin our motor tour from Carlisle. 'Twas only taking Time by the +forelock to tell him we _had_ been invited. It _was_ bad luck poor Mrs. +Keeling being ill when she got my wire, and she really was a trump to +turn out and go to a nursing home." + +"Good heavens, is that what she did? I didn't know----" + +"Of course not. But you needn't mind so dreadfully. She's _much_ more +comfortable in the nursing home with the best attention than in her own. +And, as a reward, we'll dedicate the book to her." + +Aline said this as a queen might have suggested lending her crown to a +loyal servitor. Basil laughed, rather uncomfortably, and his sister +looked up hastily into his face, to see if he were making fun of her. +Just then they were drawing near the open windows of the drawing-room, +and the lamplight shone out so brightly through the old-fashioned +embroidered lace curtains that she could see his profile. Hers too was +clearly outlined as she lifted her chin anxiously. + +The brother and sister were both good to look at, in ways so different +that the two made a striking contrast. Aline knew that in appearance +they were a romantic pair of travelling companions. Every one stared at +them when they were together, for he was very tall and dark, more like +an Italian or a Spaniard than an Englishman, and she was gracefully +slender and fair, dressing with a subtle appreciation of herself and all +her points. Aline West's and Basil Norman's photographs, taken together +or apart, for newspapers and magazines, were extremely effective, and +were considered by publishers to help the sale of their books. Norman +might have sat for Titian's Portrait of a Gentleman: and there were +those who thought Mrs. West not unlike Lady Hamilton. Since the first +expression of this opinion in print, she had changed the fashion of her +hair, and at fancy-dress balls, of which she was fond, she generally +appeared as the beautiful Emma. Certainly the cast of her features and +the cutting of her lips faintly recalled those of Romney's ideal; but +Mrs. West's pretty pale face had only two expressions: the one when she +smiled--always the same delicate curving of the lips which lit no beam +in the deep-set forget-me-not eyes; the one when she was grave and +wistfully intellectual. She had a beautiful round white throat which she +never hid with a high collar. Her hair was of that sun-in-a-mist gold +that eventually fades almost imperceptibly into gray--if left to itself. +But in Aline's case it was improbable that it would be left to itself. +Every morning when dressing she examined it anxiously, even fearfully, +to see whether it was becoming thinner or losing its misty glints of +gold. Yet she knew that her fears were likely to advance the day she +dreaded, and tried to shut them out of her mind. + +"Why do you laugh?" she inquired almost irritably, for she was secretly +afraid always of missing something that was seen by others to be +amusing. She talked constantly of a sense of humour, pitying those not +blessed with it, but there were moments when she wondered bleakly if she +had it herself. "Have I said anything funny?" + +"Only you seem so sure that the dedication will be a panacea for every +wound." + +"So it will be for Mrs. Keeling." + +"I thought you had the idea of dedicating it to Somerled, as he'll be +taking us through Scotland in his car." + +"I had. But I feel now it would be a mistake. He couldn't refuse, and +one wouldn't be sure he was pleased. He's so horribly important, you +know. I don't mean in his own eyes, but in the eyes of the world; so +nothing we could do for him would really confer an honour. And the +reason he's cynical and bored is because people have fussed over him so +sickeningly, more and more every year, since he began to rise to what he +is." + +"Yet I don't think he's conceited." + +"Not in the ordinary way. But he can't help knowing that he's some one +in particular. He began to like us because we didn't fuss over him, or +seem to go out of our way to please him. That's where I've been clever; +for oh, Basil, I'd do anything short of disfiguring myself to win him." + +"My poor girl!" Norman exclaimed. + +She caught him up hastily. "Why do you call me 'poor?' Do you think I +shan't succeed? Do you think he'll never care?" + +"You're a far better judge than I am," her brother answered evasively. +"Women feel such things. We----" + +"You feel things, too. You know you do, Basil." + +"In an abstract way--not when they're just in front of my eyes." + +"He has told me a lot about himself, anyhow." Aline took up a new line +of argument, out of her own thoughts. "That's a good sign. He is so +reserved with almost everybody--and he was even with me till our last +evening on shipboard. I was telling him about Jim dying in India and +leaving me alone there, almost a girl; and how there was no money; and +how I took up writing and made a success. Then from that we drifted into +talk about success in general; and he told me his whole story--much more +than I'd ever heard from gossip, and a good deal of it quite different. +I took it as the greatest compliment that he should open his heart to +me--and a splendid sign." + +"Yes, I suppose it was both," Norman agreed; and Aline had retired too +far within the rose-bower of happy memories to catch a suggestion of +doubt in his voice. + +"I read once in a newspaper that he'd been a bootblack in Glasgow before +he emigrated," Mrs. West said, as they turned away from the house again +in their walk, and set their faces toward the distant gate. "It wasn't +true. His father was a crofter on a little island somewhere near Skye. I +think it's called Dhrum. I never heard of it before; and he had to +excuse my ignorance, because I'm Canadian! It seems that a branch of the +MacDonald family own the whole place and are great people there--lords +of the isle. His name was MacDonald too, though his family were only +peasants--clan connections, or whatever they call that sort of thing. I +don't understand a bit, and I didn't like asking him to explain. It was +too delicate a subject, though he appeared to be rather proud of his +origin. Scotch peasants are apparently quite different from other +peasants. You'll have to study up the differences and make lots of notes +for the book. I'm no good at anything with dialect, or character sort of +parts. You wouldn't think now, though, that Ian Somerled had ever been a +peasant would you? He talked a lot about his father and +mother--evidently he adored them. He said they'd be miracles anywhere +out of Scotland, but there were many like them there. According to him +there was nothing they hadn't read or couldn't quote by the yard, from +Burns and Scott back to Shakespeare. That was the way he was brought up, +and instead of wanting him to go on crofting like themselves, they were +enchanted because he drew pictures on their unpainted doors and their +whitewashed walls. They saved all their pennies to have him educated as +an artist, and encouraged him--quite different from peasant parents in +books. One day the 'meenister' called, and saw the boy's pictures. He +thought them something out of the ordinary--pictures of castles and +cathedrals they were, with people going in and coming out, and portraits +of friends, and historical characters. After that he took a great +interest in Ian, and taught him Latin and the few other things his +wonderful parents didn't happen to know. When Ian was about thirteen or +fourteen, the 'meenister' tried to get help for the little MacDonald +from the great MacDonald, a disagreeable, cranky old man with one +daughter. They thought they owned the whole world instead of one tiny +island, and the man wouldn't do anything for the child. He simply poured +contempt on 'clan ties.'" + +"That doesn't sound like the great folk of Scotland," said Basil, who +for weeks had been reading little else but Scottish history, Scottish +fiction, and Scottish poetry, in order to get himself in the right frame +of mind for writing "the book." "I haven't come across a single instance +of their being purse-proud or snobbish." + +"These weren't purse-proud, because their purses had nothing in them to +be proud of," Aline explained. "Their branch of the MacDonalds had lost +its money and its love of Scotland. Old Duncan MacDonald was the uncle +of the last lord of Dhrum, who had to go away from his island for good +and let his castle to 'aliens'--English people. When the nephew died +later, Duncan inherited, but never lived at Dhrum. He only came there +once in a while to visit the tenants who'd hired the castle from him, if +they happened to be people he knew, and would 'do' him well. He and his +daughter were mostly in London, where they had a flat, and prided +themselves on knowing no Gaelic. They took pains to show that they +considered the crofter's son a common brat, and resented the +meenister's' expecting them to do anything for his future, just because +his name happened to be MacDonald, and he lived in a hut on a remote +point of their island. Ian didn't lose courage, though; and soon after +the great snub he contrived to work his way somehow to Edinburgh. He +wouldn't take the money his father and mother had saved up for him, +because they were old and had been ill, and needed it themselves. But he +did all kinds of queer jobs, and at last walked into the studio of a +celebrated artist, saying he wanted to pay for some lessons. At first +the man only laughed, but when he saw Ian's drawings, he was interested +at once. He gave him lessons for nothing, and boasted of his protege to +other artists. It seems that a talent for both portraiture and +architecture is very rare. When Ian was sixteen he won a big prize for +the design of an important building which a lot of prominent architects +had been trying for. Presently it came out that he was only a boy, a boy +who could do wonderful portraits, too, and everybody began taking notice +of him and writing enthusiastic praise in the papers. Some interviewer +falsely reported that he'd called himself a cousin of the MacDonald of +Dhrum, and disagreeable Duncan denied the relationship indignantly. He +spoke to some one of Ian's father, who had just then died, as 'an +ignorant old hay-cutter,' and the speech was repeated far and wide. You +can imagine Ian Somerled forgetting an insult to his adored father! He +dropped the name of MacDonald from that day, calling himself Somerled; +and as he was all alone in the world--his mother was dead, too, and had +never seen his success--he resolved to make a reputation in another +country. Of course that was very _young_ of him. He sees that now. He +crossed to New York in the steerage, and vowed he'd never set foot in +Scotland again, or take back his name of MacDonald, until old Duncan not +only openly claimed him as a cousin, but begged him as a personal favour +to return to Scotland." + +"That must have seemed like sentencing himself to perpetual banishment," +said Basil. + +"I don't know. He appears to have had a kind of prophetic faith in his +own powers of success. And he was right in every way. Duncan began to +_grovel_ years ago." + +In talking of Somerled, Aline had forgotten to listen for sounds of his +approach. She was interested in the story she was telling--more +interested than she was usually in the development of her own plots. But +luckily Basil saw to the plot-making nowadays, and she hadn't to worry. +"It's funny," she went on, "that a man who laughs at romance should be +one of the most romantic figures in the world. If you and I wrote up his +story, and took him for the hero, all the critics would say 'how +impossible!' But critics will never believe that anything highly +romantic or sensational can happen really. I don't know _what_ their own +lives must be like--or what they can think of the incidents they must +see every day in the newspapers! Somerled says the only romantic thing +he ever did was to annex the name of Somerled: but almost every phase of +his life would make a story. Take his success in America, for instance. +He wasn't eighteen when he landed as an immigrant, with nothing in his +pocket except what was left of the architectural prize. Most of that +money had gone in giving his father a few last comforts, and putting up +some wonderful, extravagant sort of monuments for both his parents, +which Ian designed himself. But he hadn't been two months in New York +when he won a still bigger prize, which came just as he was on the point +of starving! A handful of oatmeal and an apple a day _I_ should call +starvation, but he says it was grand for his health. In six years, at +twenty-four, he was not only the greatest portrait-painter in America, +but one of the most successful architects, an extraordinary combination +which has made him _unique_ in modern times. And before he was +twenty-eight came that big 'coup' of his, which he calls a 'mere +accident that might have happened to any fool'--the buying of a site for +a new town in Nevada, where he meant to build up a little city of +beautiful houses, and finding a silver mine. Of course, it _wasn't_ an +'accident.' It was the spirit of prophecy in him which has always +carried him on to success--that, and his grit and daring and enterprise +and general cleverness. Oh, Basil, if you could have heard him telling +me these things that last night on the _Olympic_--leaning back in his +deck-chair, smoking cigarette after cigarette (I was smoking too. I hate +it; but I think he likes a woman to smoke and be a man's pal), the +moonlight shining on his face, showing his eyes half shut, and talking +in his quietest way, as if he were dreaming it all over again, or +speaking to himself! I hardly breathed, till he broke off suddenly and +laughed in quite a shy sort of way, ashamed of being 'egotistical,' +though he hadn't praised himself at all. The flowery things I've said +are mine. He even apologized! I felt I'd never had so great a compliment +in my life. It seemed too good to be true that such a man should have +opened his heart to me. But when his invitation for Scotland came, +it--it set the seal of reality on the rest. Do you know, I can't help +believing he made more than he need of his business in London; that the +real truth was he wanted to stay there without us, and see how much he +missed me. Now he's coming to accept _our_ invitation, a day sooner than +he meant to at first. Something tells me the reason why. I shall know +for sure to-night, when I see him. He didn't want us to meet him at the +station. But that was perhaps because--I couldn't have gone very well +without you, and maybe----" + +"I see! I'm to make myself scarce and leave you alone in the garden!" + +"Not yet, dear. Only when we hear the car actually stopping at the gate. +There'll be plenty of time then. And if you don't mind----" + +"Of course, I don't mind," said Basil. He felt that he was blushing +under the cover of darkness, and was thankful Aline could not see. Why +the blush, he could not have explained. Was it for his sister, because +she was managing her love affairs with a famous man in this energetic, +businesslike way, and jumping eagerly at conclusions? Or was it for +himself, because he was selfish and jealous of the new interest in +Aline's life, which would--if it ended as she hoped--take her away from +him and break their partnership? + +He almost wished to accept the latter explanation. He would rather be +disappointed in himself than think meanly--oh, ever so little meanly--of +Aline. + +Their partnership, begun when he was in the depths, regarding his life +as practically finished, had given him the greatest happiness he had +ever known. Memory flashed away at lightning speed over their travels +together, their adventures. Somerled's wife would not write novels. And +deep in his heart Basil knew that Aline's soul was not in the books, as +his was. He would not acknowledge this difference between them, but he +knew it was there. In old days, when Aline had written alone, she had +always chosen some subject that loomed large in public interest at the +moment, whether she herself cared about it or not, hoping to "come in on +the wave." Just because she had not really cared her scheme of work had +not given her success. So it had been with the idea of their first book +written together. Aline had wanted to plan out something to do with +motoring, about which every one was keen just then. She had proposed to +combine business with a cure for her brother; and when she had failed to +think of a "good plot on the right lines," he had made a suggestion +which flashed into his head. The joy of motoring, the wonder of travel, +both new to Basil, had intoxicated him. He wrote as one inspired, for +the sheer love of writing and telling what he had seen and felt. And the +world, catching the thrill of his joy, had shared it. + +He did not say this to himself now, did not realize the truth of it, and +did not even believe that he could go on writing stories and succeeding +without Aline. Only, he knew that he loved his work for itself, and she +did not. That the light of his life would be gone without it, whereas +she would be glad to stop working and be idle as the admired wife of a +celebrity and a millionaire. In this he felt a vague injustice of fate +which depressed him--a rare state of mind for Basil Norman, to whom for +four years the world had been a happy and magically beautiful +dwelling-place. + +"I hear a car now!" he exclaimed. + +"It's his!" she answered. "I heard the siren when his chauffeur sounded +it going out of the garage. It's different from any others that pass +along this road. Good-bye for a little while, dear. You're so kind to +me! Wish me luck." + +"I wish Somerled luck," he said, trying to laugh, as he turned and +marched quickly off toward the house. + +Aline quite understood. He meant that Somerled would be lucky to get +her. That was nice of him, and like him, too, for Basil was as gallant +and chivalrous to his sister as a lover. Yet--she was sorry that he +hadn't wished her luck in so many words. + +She walked toward the gate. The car had stopped. + + + + +V + + +Mrs. Keeling's place, lent to her much-admired authors, had a very +pretty gate. It was approached from the garden way, through an arbour +thickly hung with roses and honeysuckle. It seemed to Aline West, as she +went alone to meet Somerled, that night distilled a special perfume in +the dew-filled cups of the flowers, sweet as unspoken love. She felt +that she was on the threshold of happiness. It was the first step that +counted. If she met Somerled in the right spirit, with the right word +and the right look ... in this perfumed star-dusk and stillness, when +they had not seen each other for days ... and he knew she had been +waiting here for him, thinking of him ... and he saw that she had put on +the dress he liked so much on shipboard, the one she had worn the last +night, when he told her his life-story ... might not the thing that she +desired happen? She encouraged herself by saying, "Why not?" and +reminding herself that she was an attractive woman. Lots of men had been +in love with her--not the right ones, but that was a detail. Why not Ian +Somerled? He was a man, after all, like others. + +He was at the gate already ... she almost ran. + +"Hail, the conquering hero!" she cried to him, laughing. + +He opened the gate. But it was not he who came in. He was opening it for +some one else--a woman, a girl, something tall and feminine, anyhow. It +was wrapped in a cloak. It had a flat pancake on its head for a hat. +What could it be, and mean? The idea darted into Aline's mind that there +had been an accident on the way here from the station; that perhaps +Somerled had nearly or quite run over this creature--or her dog--or +something. + +"Hello, Mrs. West!" he answered her cheerfully. "I've got to you at +last, and I've brought a visitor for the night. I've given my guarantee +that you'll make her welcome." + +The light of Aline's joy went out like a ray of moonlight swallowed up +by a marauding cloud. She did not in the least understand what had +happened, or what were the obligations to which he had committed her; +but in any case the lute she had tuned had a rift in it, a big, bad +rift, and it could make no music to-night. She felt suddenly at her +worst instead of her best, as if she had tumbled off a bank of flowers +in her prettiest frock into a bog. She longed to be cold and snappy and +disagreeable, as a wife may safely be to a husband when he has +blundered, and as she had often been to Jim in his brief day; but +Somerled was not her husband, and certainly never would be unless she +minded her "p's and q's" like a good and very clever little angel with +unmeltable butter in its smiling mouth. So she shrieked, "Hang it!" and +even worse, with her whole heart, and said with her lips, in a charming +voice, "Why, of _course_! I shall be delighted to welcome any friend of +yours, and so will Basil. I _love_ surprises." + +It was a short arbour, and as they all three came out of it, Mrs. West +and Somerled and the wrapped-up thing with the pancake hat--the +chauffeur following with a suit-case--Aline's eyes made the most of the +starlight, that she might read the mystery and know the worst. The worst +was very bad. Under the stars the girl looked a radiant beauty, and so +young, so young! How was the man going to account for her? Was there +still hope? + +"I told you what Mrs. West would say!" exclaimed Somerled. "This is Miss +MacDonald, a daughter of Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald." + +"Oh!" said Aline. "How interesting! I'm delighted to meet her." She held +out her hand, and the girl, who had not yet spoken a word, put hers into +it. + +There was no real reason why "I'm delighted to meet her" wasn't +precisely the nicest thing to say in the circumstances, but somehow as a +greeting it hadn't quite the right ring, Aline herself felt. And she was +sorry, because she wanted to be entirely satisfactory to Somerled in +every way, in all situations, no matter how trying, and thus perhaps +save the ship. Why not? Many men of thirty-four were bored with girls, +and Somerled must have been bored by them already in their thousands. +Still, something that lay deep down within herself was sad and anxious. +A daughter of the beautiful and almost notorious Mrs. Ballantree +MacDonald! If he weren't in love with the girl, perhaps he had had a +desperate love affair with the mother. + +"I'd no idea that Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald had any children," Aline +went on, as she shook a supple, satiny hand which wore no glove. + +"She's only got me," said the girl, "and she doesn't know she's got me +yet. At least, she may have forgotten." + +Somerled broke out laughing. "You'll puzzle Mrs. West," he said, with a +good-natured, amused, and proprietary air which stabbed Aline's feelings +as with little sharp pins. No, whatever else he might be, he was not +bored. "We'll have to do a lot of explaining by and by, indoors." + +"Oh, yes," Barrie agreed. And then, plunging into her task, "He found me +in the railway station. I've run away from home, and he wouldn't let me +go to a hotel. Don't you really mind? Because----" + +"Of course I don't mind." Aline rose bravely to the occasion. "It sounds +wildly romantic, like most things that contrive to happen to Mr. +Somerled, although he says he's ceased to believe in romance. Have you +known each other long?" + +"Only to-night," replied Barrie. And Somerled began to see that, as he +had said, there certainly would have to be a lot of explaining. It +almost seemed complicated. Nevertheless, he felt that he had done the +only thing possible, and so far from having regrets, he had a curious +sense of elation that was boyish. He wanted to see what was going to +happen next. He felt as if by some rather nice accident he had been +inveigled into playing a new game. + +"I've known Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald ever since her first famous tour +through America some ten or twelve years ago," he said. "You'll be +amused, Mrs. West, to hear in what a queer way I ran across her daughter +to-night." + +"Yes, indeed, no doubt," answered Aline, as they walked toward the +house. She was forcing herself to cheer up a little. His tone in +speaking of the actress didn't sound like the tone of a man in love. And +men of his type, who had been run after and spoilt, surely didn't fall +in love at sight. It was going to prove no more than an annoying +incident, this bringing home of a strange girl, who mightn't be so +desperately pretty, anyhow, in a bright light. To-morrow the creature +would be packed off to her mother or some one; and in a day or two more +Somerled and Basil and she--Aline--would start off on their heavenly +trip as if nothing had happened. + +But Barrie was even prettier in the lamplight of the hall and +drawing-room than she had been in the silver vagueness of starlight. +Aline tried to think that she was the weirdest frump in the world, and +absolutely impossible as a fascinator; but she knew that the weirdness +would be superficial to the eye of Man. The thing was to hurry her away +in all her frumpiness. + +Aline brought them into the low-ceiled drawing-room which, with her own +hands, she had made beautiful with many flowers in honour of Somerled's +coming. She and Basil had been here for several days, while Somerled +attended to business in London, and she had been looking forward to her +friend's comments upon this drawing-room. She had imagined his +exclaiming: "You've made it look like yourself!" But the girl had +spoiled her effects. Somerled merely said, "What a pretty, old-fashioned +room! The green wall is a becoming background." And when he uttered this +comment it was at his vagabond he looked, not at his hostess. + +Barrie was rather remarkable against that green. She glanced around, +evidently in rapt admiration of everything she saw. Her eyes were very +bright and big, her young, red lips a little apart. "Silly thing, gaping +with her mouth open!" Aline relieved her feelings by saying to herself. + +"Oh, it's so beautiful here, and Mrs. West's dress is so lovely," the +girl said; "it makes me feel I must take off this horrid cloak and tam, +not to be a blot. May I take them off?" she asked Aline, turning frank +admiration on her, as one turns on a searchlight. + +Aline would have liked to think of some reason for saying "no," such as +a draught, or an immediate departure for upstairs; but even if the +excuse had been valid enough, it would have been of no use, for without +awaiting permission, which she took as a matter of course, the weird +creature had whipped off her green pancake and was throwing back her +cloak. "Not that my dress isn't nearly as bad," she apologized, sighing. +"I have never seen such a pretty room as this." + +It was really nothing wonderful by way of a room: a little oak +panelling; faded green brocade walls; some nice old pastels; furniture +of the Stuart period; pretty bright chintz; a few old Chelsea figures on +the mantel and in a cabinet; quantities of red and white roses in +Chinese bowls. Aline ached to snap, "If you've never seen anything as +pretty as _this_, where have you lived?" But that was not the way of +Somerled's ideal woman. It would have been better if the stupid thing +had praised Mrs. West's looks, thus riveting Somerled's eyes and +appreciation; but all her silly admiration seemed to be for the dress +and the room. Little brute! Incapable of calling another female pretty, +when a man was present. Just what one would expect of an actress's +daughter, especially _that_ actress, if half one heard of "Mrs. Bal" +were true. + +Aline was inclined to believe that Barrie MacDonald had purposely posed +herself under a hanging lamp, so as to show off her hair when suddenly +uncovered. The daughter of an actress, with the dramatic instinct in her +blood! But the idea did not seem to occur to Somerled, experienced as he +was, disillusioned as he thought himself. At least there was nothing +cynical in the expression of his face. + +"Do let me help you with your cloak," she said to Barrie, dimly hoping +that the man would contrast her exquisitely corseted figure in its dress +by Lucille with the crude, untrained outlines clothed in blue serge. She +was not so tall as Barrie as they stood together, she discovered, and +she wanted the girl to sit down. "You must both have something to eat," +she went on, pulling the old-fashioned bead embroidered bell rope; and +tears were close and hot behind her eyes, remembering how she had +planned the little supper for herself and Somerled--and Basil, who +hardly counted. "Or would you like to see your rooms first? One shall be +made ready directly for Miss MacDonald. I suppose her luggage has come +in with yours?" + +"I have only a--a parcel," Barrie meekly confessed, feeling three times +a worm, even a Laidly Worm. It was odd how this sweet-faced blond woman, +with blue eyes and a halo of fair hair and a gentle smile, contrived--of +course without meaning it--to make one feel the meanest, shabbiest thing +cumbering a beautiful world! "I wonder if I'm going to like men better +than women?" she thought. + +"Ah, a parcel," repeated Aline daintily, as an incredibly neat maid +answered the call of the beaded bell. "Moore," Mrs. West went on, "this +young lady, Miss MacDonald, will spend the night. I think she might have +the room of the red Chinese chintz at the end of my corridor. Please +have it made ready as soon as possible, and----" + +"Oh, is your name Muir?" exclaimed Barrie delightedly. "That's the name +of our housekeeper at Hillard House. Perhaps you're related, though I +never _heard_ of Mrs. Muir having any daughters or nieces." + +The maid, deftly taking the cue from her mistress _pro tem._, put into +her impersonal gaze the coldness of a whole glacier as her eyes moved +from defect to defect of Barrie's costume. The tone of that "Ah, a +_parcel_," was unmistakable, and she knew exactly what Mrs. West thought +of Miss MacDonald. "I am sorry, miss, but I do not think, I am related +to your housekeeper," she replied; and Aline determined to give her a +blouse or half a dozen handkerchiefs. She really was a most intelligent +person. So intelligent was she that she knew by the feeling in her bones +exactly how much Mrs. West wanted to get Miss MacDonald out of the +drawing-room and into the Chinese room, which would be the most +unbecoming in the house to a red-haired person. "I can take the young +lady up now, if you wish, madam," she continued, "for the room is in +order--only to bring towels and hot water." + +Barrie looked pleadingly at Somerled. "I am quite clean," she said. "I +washed at home before I started. And I'm _so_ hungry." + +Her appeal to him as a tried and trusted friend waked up something in +Somerled which he had not known existed. Whatever it was stirred and was +soft and warm in the region of his heart. + +"I'm sure Mrs. West doesn't want to send you away," he said. And he +could have said nothing more tactless. "I, too, am comparatively +spotless," he went on, protecting his protegee by putting himself on her +level, "and superlatively hungry. We shall both be delighted to accept +your invitation to supper." He laughed, and Barrie gave him a grateful, +understanding glance. He felt as if she were a wonderfully pretty doll +which had somehow come alive after he had bought and rescued it from an +upper shelf in an unworthy toy-shop--a dear, delightful, untamed doll +which now belonged to him; and he was not sure that he wanted to let +anybody else play with it until he had begun to tire a little of its +tricks himself. Of course he'd tire in time; but there would not be time +for tiring, because the doll must soon be packed off and sent to its +mother. + +"Tell Mr. Norman that Mr. Somerled has come, and that we're ready for +supper," said Aline to Moore. The eyes of mistress and maid met, and for +an instant they were social equals. + +Basil Norman was a man who had odd thoughts and enjoyed them. For this +reason he did not weary of his own society, for he never quite knew what +he would think next. When he came to the door and pushed it open, he +half believed that he was dreaming the tall, beautiful, badly dressed +girl with torrents of red hair. People in real life did not wear their +hair in torrents. Perhaps she was a ghost who went with the house, and +he had never happened to see her before. He wondered if the others had +noticed her yet. + +"How are you, Somerled?" he inquired, not taking his eyes off the +apparition. It was looking at him, too, almost anxiously, as if it were +wondering whether he would be friend or foe; but, of course, it did not +speak. + +"All right. Very glad to see you both again--and to be here," Somerled +answered. + +"Miss MacDonald," announced Aline, thin-lipped. + +"So you have a name?" said Basil to Barrie. "Was it given to you in +dreamland or the spirit-world?" Then she knew at once that he was not a +foe, but a friend. + +"Fairyland," she replied, beaming on him. "I was in fairyland to-day. If +I hadn't been there, I shouldn't be here." She could answer her own late +question now, with practical certainty. She _was_ going to like men +better than women! Her mother, of course, would be an exception. + + + + +VI + + +It was a delicious little supper that Mrs. West had ordered in +Somerled's honour, yet for some mysterious reason, thoroughly understood +only by Aline, nobody did justice to it or enjoyed it much. Perhaps +there was thunder in the air, which upset the nerves of every one, even +the nerves of Moore, who spilt _bouillon_ on Miss MacDonald's sleeve. +This was the explanation which occurred to Basil; and certain it was +that the sky had suddenly clouded over, hiding all the stars. + +"I do hope we're not going to have rain for our trip," he remarked, more +for the sake of something to say than because, even if rain came, it +were likely to last. "It's just the ticklish time of the month for +weather, you know: to-morrow we shall have the new moon." + +"The heather moon!" Barrie said softly, looking out of the open window +at the purple night, purple as heather. + +"What do you mean by a heather moon?" asked Basil, interested. "It +sounds sweeter than honeymoon." + +"It's the sweetest moon of the year," the girl answered. "The moon when +all the most beautiful things ought to happen to the people who are +worthy of them--and the honeymoon can't come till afterward. I've always +wanted something romantic to happen to me in the heather moon; yet +nothing ever has, so far. It couldn't, at Grandma's!" + +"But you haven't explained the heather moon," Basil reminded her. + +"Don't you _really_ know?" She opened her eyes very wide as she smiled +at him in a friendly, childlike way; and Basil and Somerled forgot that +there was a Mrs. West in the room. It was a momentary lapse of memory, +but Aline felt it electrically. She was enraged at Basil, and disgusted +with Barrie, though merely grieved with Somerled. + +"_There's_ a minx for you!" thought Moore, who was plain, and had been +chosen by Mrs. Keeling because her teeth stuck out more than the lady's +own. + +"Wait! I believe, as a good Scotsman, I can guess," said Somerled. "The +heather moon's the moon of August, the moon when the heather's in its +prime of bloom." + +"Yes!" cried Barrie, joyous that it should be he, her first friend, the +friend of her mother, who had solved the puzzle. "That's it: and it's +the moon for falling in love. That's why the honeymoon has to come +afterward." Then, seeing that Mrs. West was looking at her with a look +that might mean astonishment or disapproval, she blushed. It was queer, +but for a minute that pretty, quite young woman--if widows could be +called _quite_ young--had an expression almost like Grandma's. + +"Oh, I do hope I haven't said anything horrid?" Barrie appealed from one +to another. "You see, I never dared say anything at all about love +before Grandma or Heppie, but it is talked about so _much_ in books, I +thought I might mention it in company. I'm sorry if I've not been +maidenly, which Miss Hepburn is always telling me I'm not." + +"I suspect most maidens think a good deal about love whether or no they +talk of it, don't they, Norman?" said Somerled. + +"How should I know?" Basil asked. + +Both men were different from their everyday selves to-night. They seemed +self-conscious. + +"Why, it's your business to know. You write novels. Or do you leave all +the love parts to your sister?" + +"I suppose widows may talk as much as they like about love," said Barrie +reflectively, "having had it and passed it by." + +The creature was pretending to take for granted that widows were poor, +_passee_ things who had lived their lives and could have no more +personal interest in heather moons or honeymoons! Mrs. West grew pale, +and was angry with herself for caring. Barrie made her feel faded--a +"back number." She told herself that if she could not get rid of this +girl the first thing to-morrow, she should be ill. + +"You must ask your mother these questions, and she'll answer them better +than I can," Aline said in her pretty voice, with her gentle smile. + +Already she had heard from Barrie and from Somerled something of the +girl's story, and knew that through family misunderstandings mother and +daughter had been separated for years. "You must be _so_ impatient to +see her!" she went on. + +"I am," said Barrie. + +"I know Sir George Alexander a little," Aline answered. "He may take a +curtain-raiser of ours; and it's occurred to me to telegraph him in the +morning, as soon as the post-office opens. He'll be able to let us know +where Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald's acting. We won't trust to the stage +papers alone. It would be a pity to keep this child in suspense a minute +longer than necessary. Don't you think it's a good plan, Mr. Somerled?" + +"Very," he agreed. It was a good plan. And it _would_ be a pity to keep +the child in suspense. The pretty doll must be packed up and sent away +where it belonged, whereupon everything would go on as before. And the +heather moon would begin to shine gold on purple, for the trip through +bonny Scotland, which he had planned. He had been looking forward to the +tour, not with keen enthusiasm indeed, but with interest. He had been +satisfied with the companions he had chosen, and the fact that they +wanted to see Scotland had given him an incentive for taking the rest +cure he had been imperatively ordered, in his native land rather than +elsewhere. Once, long ago, self-exiled at the age of Barrie MacDonald, +he had passionately yearned for his "ain countree," and often regretted +the boyish vow he was too proud and obstinate to break. But years had +passed now since Duncan MacDonald and his daughter Margaret visited +America to find themselves worth knowing only as kinsfolk of the +despised peasant. Accepting the situation because of its advantages and +his necessities, the old man had ignored the past and "made up" to the +young millionaire artist. Ian's sense of humour had been so tickled +that, to his own surprise, he had laughed and forgotten his youthful +rancour. It struck him as distinctly funny that he had ever taken old +Duncan's waspishness seriously enough to make vows of any sort because +of it. And he saw that indirectly he owed fortune to the haughty lord of +Dhrum. It had amused Somerled a good deal and pleased him a little that +"his highness" (as he called the great one) should implore the "peasant +brat" to become tenant of Dunelin Castle for an unlimited term of years; +that Duncan should chat to newspaper men of his "distinguished relative +Ian MacDonald, who had won fame under the very suitable _nom de guerre_ +of Somerled"; and that "Cousin Ian" should be pressed to meet "Cousin +Margaret." It was a queer world, and nobody in it was queerer than one's +self. So Somerled had felt when, just because the miracle had happened +to free him of his vow, he no longer pined to gaze upon his native +Highlands. He felt at home and happy enough in America; and if being +"happy enough" wasn't quite the beautiful state he had pictured as a +boy, it was full of interest. He had taken Dunelin Castle off its +owner's hands at a high yearly rent, in order that no rich and vulgar +Cockney should become the tenant, but he had never stayed there, though +once, even to have the right of entrance would have seemed a fairy +dream. There were no such things as fairy dreams for him since he had +thoroughly grown up, because in the process of becoming a millionaire he +had ceased to believe in any kind of dreams. Friendships and sympathies +he had vainly longed for in his poverty could be his for the asking or +even without the asking now; and that was the reason he did not feel +they were worth having. He had no use in his heart for little brothers +and sisters of the rich, and in his experienced hardness he was +sometimes unjust to kindly people. But he had liked the novels of Aline +West and Basil Norman before he met the two popular Canadian authors on +shipboard; and learning that they planned to write a "Scotch book," it +had occurred to him that they might all three go about sight-seeing +together. His rest cure had ceased to bore him in prospect; he had +thought with some pleasure of showing Aline Dunelin Castle and the +island of Dhrum. Suddenly, however, Aline's own words damped the +prospect as with a douche of cold water. + +She was perfectly right, too. It would be a very good plan to place the +waif he had picked up as soon as possible in the care of a mother, even +such an extraordinary, incredible mother as Mrs. "Bal" MacDonald: a good +plan for the girl's sake, and for everybody's sake, because it was +arranged to start for Scotland the day after to-morrow. Still, Barrie's +impromptu ode to the heather moon had for a moment irradiated his mind +with a light such as had not shone for Somerled on land or sea since he +had become rich enough to afford the most expensive lighting. Then as +quickly it had died down. He saw himself spinning agreeably through +Scottish scenes with Mrs. West and her brother, and suddenly, +treacherously, he felt that to spin agreeably was not enough to satisfy +him, that it was unworthy of wondrous golden light on purple hills of +high romance. He wanted something more, something altogether different, +and the plans which had contented him looked dull as ditchwater in the +fading glamour. He himself looked dull. Aline looked dull, and for a +moment he almost disliked her sweet blue eyes, her pretty, ever gentle +smile, behind which must lurk some true feeling, or she could not write +those delicately charming books. + +"And don't you think, too," Aline urged kindly, "that we ought to put +Miss MacDonald's poor grandmother out of her misery? I might write a +note to--Hillard House, I think she said?--explaining--er--what has +happened, as well--as well as I could? Let me see, what _would_ be best? +Oh, I could say that by accident her granddaughter had met a guest of +mine, a friend of Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald's; that she wasn't to worry, +because, though her granddaughter refused to return, we would see that +the child reached her mother safely, by to-morrow night if possible. I +can mention Basil, and say we are the writers. If she has heard of us, +that may relieve the poor lady's mind." + +"Grandma hasn't heard of you, I'm sure," said Barrie, "unless you write +religious books; but she won't _need_ her mind relieved. While I was +with her, I think she considered it her duty to take strict care of me; +but now I've gone my own way, she'll see it was predestined. It was just +the same with a Dresden china teapot she inherited. She didn't approve +of it because it was too gay, but she always washed it herself because +it was her father's. When it broke in spite of her, she wouldn't have it +mended, and told Heppie to throw the pieces away." + +"Nevertheless, I must write, and send the letter to Hillard House by +hand," Aline insisted. "If I didn't do that I should not be able to +sleep." She spoke with fervour, for she felt that she must have two +strings to her bow. If "Mother" failed, she must be able to fall back on +"Grandma." + + + + +VII + + +Barrie meant to be up and dressed before any one else in the house, but +she lay awake until long after midnight, an unprecedented thing for her, +and in consequence slept late, making up her accustomed nine hours. + +Usually she fell asleep at ten or soon after, and jumped briskly out of +bed at seven, waked only by her eager desire for renewed life, in a +perfectly new day which no one else had ever seen yet. This morning it +was a repeated knocking at the door which mingled with her dreams and +shook her out of them. What door could it be? Where was she? the girl +wondered for a dazed instant. Then Moore appeared with a breakfast-tray. + +"Mrs. West said not to wake you for early tea," she explained with a +glacial coldness worthy of Hillard House. "Madam and the two gentlemen +are having breakfast out of doors in the summer-house; and when you get +up, miss, I advise you to draw your curtains well across the windows or +you may be seen." + +Barrie wished that she too were having breakfast in the summer-house, +and thought it mistaken kindness on the part of Mrs. West not to have +her called. But, from Aline's point of view, there was no mistake. "I +have let the child sleep," she explained to Somerled and Basil. "It _is_ +such a child, isn't it? And when she wakes up there may be a wire in +answer to mine, which went before eight." + +When ten o'clock struck and still the telegram had not arrived, Aline +asked herself if she oughtn't to go and call on old Mrs. MacDonald, who +had deigned to take no notice of her tactfully expressed letter. Just +then, however, Somerled's chauffeur was seen hovering in the flowery +distance. He had brought two stage papers which his master had sent him +out to buy. Aline was not pleased that Somerled had thought it necessary +to get information on his own account. She would have preferred that he +should trust to her; but she tried to think that perhaps he too was +secretly tired of the girl and wanted to be rid of her. While he was +glancing through the first paper, Moore glided into the summer-house +with a brick-coloured envelope on a silver tray. It was addressed to +Aline, and she opened it quickly, glad to be ahead of Ian with news. +Then she found herself confronting an unexpected difficulty. "Mrs. B. M. +trying new play small towns; will open Edinburgh in five or six days." +With something like a gasp, Aline stopped on the brink of reading the +telegram aloud. Who would have thought of this? + +Her brain worked quickly. She didn't want Somerled to know that "Mrs. +Bal" was so near. He might--make some ridiculous proposal about the +girl--Heaven alone knew what! Men were capable of anything. The +troublesome creature must really go back to her grandmother at once. +Mrs. Bal could easily come to Carlisle and collect her--like lost +luggage--if she cared to be burdened with such luggage. If only Aline +could find some excuse to make Somerled put down that paper and +forthwith go into the house! + +"Is your telegram from Sir George?" he inquired calmly, looking up from +the paper which she longed to snatch. + +For half a second she hesitated, and then said, "No. It's not what I +expected." This was almost true. + +Basil was gazing at her with solicitude. He thought that she had turned +pale. "No bad news from any one, I hope, dear?" he asked. + +"It is annoying," she replied with reserve, and crumpled up the +telegram. "I was stupid to let Moore go--I must send an answer. Mr. +Somerled, it would be too good of you to look for a form on the desk in +the drawing-room." + +"Shan't I----" began Basil. + +"I must ask your advice, meanwhile, about what I'm to say," she cut him +short. Somerled put down the paper on the rustic seat, got up with +alacrity, and started for the house. He would be back in three or four +minutes, and not one of those minutes ought to be wasted. "Don't bother +with questions," she said to Basil, "but if you love me, make those +theatrical papers disappear before Mr. Somerled can read them. I'm going +to change my mind and follow him into the house to write my telegram. +I'll keep him a while talking. If he comes looking for his papers, I +want them to be gone. I depend on you!" + +Without waiting for Basil's promise, she darted away in order to +intercept Somerled before he could finish his errand in the +drawing-room. Of course, it would be easy for him to buy more papers, +but before he could get them, Aline was hoping to have maneuvered the +embarrassing Miss MacDonald out of the house. She counted that Ian would +be long in finding the forms, because men never could find the simplest +things when told to look for them; but Somerled was an exception, and +she only just caught him on the threshold. "After all, I want your +advice instead of Basil's," she said. "Do sit here where we shall be +quiet, and let me consult you." She patted the arm of a big +chintz-covered sofa invitingly, and as she sat down Ian followed suit. +Still she did not know what on earth to say to him. She hoped for an +inspiration at the last instant, as Basil had taught her to do in +arranging a difficult situation between hero and heroine. She wanted to +play heroine now with Somerled as hero. Oh, how much she wanted it! + +She took a long breath which _must_ bring that inspiration at the end of +it, if inspiration were to be of use. And it came at command, as things +good or bad do come if intensely desired. But it was such a thoroughly +objectionable inspiration that she hardly dared snap at it as she +wished, for Aline was not malicious, and disliked malice and all +uncharitableness as she disliked smearing her pink and white fingers +with ink. Still, no alternative idea occurred to her, and Somerled was +waiting. In desperation she had to take what offered, excusing herself +to herself with every word she spoke. Yet through all she could not help +thinking that she was clever, that she had marvellous presence of mind, +and that she was displaying an inventive faculty which would have +surprised Basil, though, of course, he must never know, because men were +often as idiotically conscientious about little things as they were +unscrupulous about big ones. + +"The telegram that came was from Mrs. MacDonald, the child's +grandmother," she heard herself explaining, not forgetting, in her +mental confusion, to rub in the impression of Barrie's unfledged youth. +"I was surprised at not hearing, but this wire is an answer to my +letter. The old lady goes into no particulars, but she says: 'Gravest +reasons why my granddaughter should not join her mother. Hope you in +person will bring her back to me.' Now, dear Mr. Somerled, the little +girl is your protegee. It's for you to say what's to be done with her." + +Somerled did not reply at once. He sat thinking, his hands thrust deep +in his pockets, making a jingling noise with keys or silver, which in +her present mood got upon Aline's nerves extraordinarily. She felt that +if he did not stop jingling and begin to speak she should scream. If he +asked to see the telegram, she was prepared to say that she had torn it +up, as an excuse not to show it to Basil, on second thoughts the affair +appearing to be Somerled's business. Somerled did not, however, make the +request, and Aline was spared an extra fib, at which she was +unreasonably pleased. + +"Well?" she controlled herself to murmur, instead of screaming. + +"I should feel a traitor to give the girl up," he said. "In fact, I +can't do it unless she agrees. I promised not even to advise her that +she ought to go back. She trusted me when I brought her here." + +"Shall _I_ have a little talk with her?" Aline suggested, and never had +her voice been so kind and sweet. Indeed, in her trembling hope, she was +willing to be sweet and kind--with limitations. + +Somerled thought again for a minute, jingling more horribly than ever. +Then, just at screaming-point once more for Aline, he said decidedly, +"No, thank you. From what Miss MacDonald's told us, it's natural her +grandmother should think there are grave objections to Mrs. Bal as a +guardian; but the old lady's two generations at least behind the age. +Youth's at the prow nowadays, and--a mother's a mother, anyhow. We'll +have to give Mrs. Bal a chance to do the maternal act----" + +"She may be far, far away, even in America--or Australia," Aline +objected. "And even if----" + +"Oh, Mr. Somerled, mother's coming to Edinburgh!" cried a voice at the +long window, and Barrie appeared, waving a newspaper. + +The one unforeseen thing had happened. The vagabond had strayed into the +summer-house and beguiled Basil. Aline knew too well what excuse he +would make if accused: "Why, you didn't tell me _she_ wasn't to look at +the papers!" + +"I've seen the name, 'Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald,'" the detestable girl +went on, pushing into the room without asking permission. "She's going +to 'open,' as the paper expresses it, in a new play called 'The Nelly +Affair,' on Monday night at the Lyceum Theatre. Next Monday! Nearly a +week from now! How can I wait--what shall I do till then?" + +It was to Somerled that she appealed. She made him feel that the +responsibility was his. And it was a bad moment to feel this, because of +Mrs. West's telegram from Grandma. He got up from the sofa, still +jingling the money in his pockets. Looking down at Aline he saw only her +profile and an ear as deeply pink as coral under a loop of blond hair. +Evidently she too was feeling the situation. Good of her to take an +interest! She really was good. She had asked his advice. Now he would +ask hers. + +"Mrs. West and I will talk over a plan I have for you," he said to the +girl. + +"Is it your plan--or hers?" asked Barrie anxiously. + +"It will be both by the time you hear it," he answered, with a +reassuring smile. + +Aline humoured him. "Run away and play, little girl, till the plan is +cooked," she gayly cried. "Play with my brother." + +Barrie backed out, feeling as if she had been half smothered with a +perfumed pillow. + +"Do you guess my plan?" asked Ian. + +"I wonder?" Aline murmured. She could not have spoken aloud just then. + +"It's this. Why shouldn't we take her with us in the car to Edinburgh? +We've lots of room." + +She had known that this would come. All she had done had only hastened +the catastrophe. "That poor old lady," she stammered. "I can't help +sympathizing--being a little sorry for her. Isn't she, then, to be +considered--after bringing up the girl?" + +"You think," he said reflectively, "that she ought to be consulted?" + +"Oh, I do!" + +"Very well. Then I'll go and have it out with her myself." + +"The telegram!" thought Mrs. West, her ears more coraline than ever. +"After all," she faltered, "perhaps it would bring about complications. +She might resort to--to something legal. Fancy if she sent the police to +get back her granddaughter." + +Somerled laughed and said nothing. He was not in a mood for argument. + +"He won't go," Aline thought. "Thank Heaven, he hates bother." + +This was true of Somerled as a rule; but his rules had exceptions. + + + + +VIII + + +So this was the garden where that strange flower of girlhood had budded +and blossomed. All at once Barrie, in her quaintness, became a readable +riddle to Somerled. + +The two gates in the high wall were kept bolted, but there was a +jangling bell for each, the gate for visitors (it was almost +supererogatory), and the gate for tradesmen and servants. An elderly and +sullenly astonished woman opened the visitors' gate for Somerled, and +made of her lean form a barrier lest he should try to pass. But she +being narrowly built, on somewhat Gothic lines, and the gateway being +broad, Somerled saw past the flying buttresses of her skirts into the +background. And it was this background that explained in a flash why the +girl knew less of life than a bird which has learned to use its wings; +also the reason why she could never return to waste her young years +behind the garden wall of Hillard House. The thought came into +Somerled's mind that it would be interesting to show her the world she +had never seen, not only between Carlisle and Edinburgh, but over the +hills and far away, as far as the purple island of Dhrum, set in its +sunset frame of ocean gold--or even farther. That could not be, of +course, but the picture was pleasant. + +He had prepared himself to be ingratiating; but he realized that +ingratiation was not a successful line to pursue with dragons. Instead +of inquiring politely if Mrs. MacDonald were at home, he said bluntly, +"I wish to see Mrs. MacDonald; I have business with her--not my +business, but hers. And you may tell her I am not The MacDonald of +Dhrum, but _a_ MacDonald from Dhrum, a very different thing." + +He knew well that the name of Somerled would be no "Open Sesame" to this +door, and he rather enjoyed the knowledge. It was clear at once that he +had used the right key. Perhaps no other would have served a stranger. +Anna Case was not a Scotswoman, but the name of MacDonald was respected +within these gates, no matter who bore it, and this dark man, with the +blue eyes that went through you like bright steel blades, didn't look +like one who would claim what he had no right to claim. She bade him +follow her into the house, which he did; into the hall; and so to a +drearier drawing-room than he had ever entered. There had perhaps been +some as gray and grim on his island of Dhrum; but in those days he had +known nothing of drawing-rooms. + +This was not even early Victorian. It was mid-Victorian, and rubbing and +brushing had given the ugly furniture no time to mellow. He sat down on +a horsehair-covered sofa which had two worked worsted cushions, each +stiffly upright in its corner. One represented a dog's head, the other a +bunch of white and yellow flowers with a cold background of steel beads. +On the walls hung a few steel engravings; a meeting of Covenanters; +portraits of unco' guid worthies with sidewhiskers or beards; and some +tortured stags pursued or caught by hounds. + +"Terrible!" he groaned in spirit. "Who'd suppose that such things +existed nowadays?" + +He might appropriately have made much the same criticism of the old +woman who at that instant opened the door and came in, sturdily, in +spite of her limp and the stout stick grasped in a knuckly hand. But as +their eyes met--hers like thick glass panes behind which a burning fire +could be dimly seen--something in her grim spirit spoke to something as +grim and uncompromising far down his nature. To his own surprise he felt +awaking in himself a queer impulse of sympathy for the redoubtable +Grandma. Perhaps, reluctantly, she felt the same for him. But she looked +him in the face, keenly and unblinkingly. "Well, sir," she said, in a +deep voice almost like a man's, and amazingly young and vital, "well, +sir, I do not recognize you, though you have gained entrance to my house +by claiming the name of MacDonald." + +"That is true," replied Ian, who had risen at her coming. "It's the +first time I've claimed the name for many years, though it is mine and +was my father's before me." + +"Who was your father?" the old woman catechized him. "What kin to +Duncan, my dead husband's half-brother?" + +"No kin except by clan ties. You wouldn't have heard of us. My father +was a crofter. His name was David." + +"I well remember that man," said Mrs. MacDonald, "and his wife too when +I lived with my husband on the island in my youth. Let me see--Mary her +name was. They were God-fearing folk, and didn't wear any such grand +clothes as you do, not even for their Sunday best." + +"I paint people's portraits, you see, and have to live in cities," +explained Ian calmly, though he had grown lazy as he grew rich and had +not painted. "My clothes suit my trade and way of life better than my +father's would, I think; though, as for my brains, my father's hat would +have been too big for them." + +"I dare say you are right about the brains. You are that youth who went +off to America under the name of Somerled," Mrs. MacDonald severely +remarked. "I have read of you in the newspapers; but I never approved of +you, sir. It's not man's work, to my mind, smearing canvas with paint, +and encouraging silly women to be vain of their faces." + +"My portraits aren't considered to have that effect," returned Somerled; +"rather the contrary, in some cases. And I'm sorry you don't approve of +me, because that makes a bad opening for what I've come to say. However, +it can't be helped. I know Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald slightly; met her +in America----" + +"If you think an acquaintance with that woman will recommend you to me, +sir, you are mightily mistaken," was the answer he got. + +"I mention it to make you understand why, when I met her daughter last +night, I felt it my duty to do what I could, being of the same name and +not quite a stranger to the family." + +"Oh, you felt it your duty! Then you're the person mentioned in a letter +I received from a certain Mrs. West, according to herself a writer of +books. I do not read her sort of books, and never heard of her. 'Motor +novels' indeed! What worse than nonsense! Little enough sense fools must +have to buy them! If you have come from this Mrs. West, you can tell her +from me, as she has made her bed she may lie in it. She has not taken +under her roof my granddaughter, but the daughter of Mrs. Ballantree +MacDonald, the play actress. I did my best for the girl, striving to +bring her up to be a good and modest woman, despite the bad blood of the +mother who broke my son's heart and killed him, who did what she could, +and has been doing what she could in the years since, to disgrace our +house. I might have known I should strive in vain, and I did know at +heart. Vanity and extravagance and fondness of pleasure were Barbara +Ballantree's undoing. I preserved her daughter from those dangers, and +gave her a religious education. Levity was sternly rebuked in her. She +had no young acquaintances to teach her foolishness, or tell her of her +mother's sin. She was allowed no money to fritter away on vanities, no +silly novels to read, such as those your friends write, no frivolous +pursuits which could distract her mind from duty--yet she is her mother +over again, and, like her mother, runs away from my house by stealth, in +the dead of night." + +"It wasn't ten o'clock when I met her in the railway station," Somerled +defended the absent. "She was then not very stealthily seeking a train +for London, where she expected to find her mother. Mrs. West has written +you, I know, and told you everything that happened. For my part, I've +called to speak of a plan I have in mind for your granddaughter. The +telegram you sent Mrs. West seemed----" + +"The telegram I sent Mrs. West? I've sent no telegram to her nor any +one. I don't send telegrams." + +"Indeed?" stammered Somerled, taken aback. "I understood--Mrs. West +believed the telegram to be from you----" + +"Nothing of the kind. She couldn't have believed it," Mrs. MacDonald +shut him up mercilessly. "She must have been 'romancing,' as I suppose +she would call it. I should call it lying." + +Remembering Aline's words, Somerled also was frankly inclined to call it +lying--on the part of the young woman or the old. He would gladly have +blamed the elder, but reason rebelled. Whatever Mrs. MacDonald's faults +might be, she did not seem to be one who would deliberately tell a lie. + +"But why should Mrs. West?" Somerled asked himself, calling up the +pretty smile, the soft blue eyes of his friend. He had been inclined to +believe her true. He had liked her very much, more than he liked most +women, and had wondered if he might not learn to like her still better +in time. The women he saw oftenest were mostly nervous, exacting, +self-centred creatures, craving constant flattery. Aline was none of +these things. She had many charms, and he had seen few defects; but a +motive for falseness in the matter of the telegram would suggest itself +to his intelligence. He tried to shut the door in its insinuating, +conceited grin. + +"There must be a mistake--somewhere," he mumbled. + +"Not here, anyhow," retorted the old lady. + +"After all, it's apart from the question in hand. But perhaps my plans +for your granddaughter don't interest you?" + +"Not particularly. Still, you may as well tell them. I see you want to." + +"And I see"--Somerled squandered a smile, but only because it came +spontaneously--"I see that you want to hear them, because," he dared to +go on with a flash of his keen eyes into hers, "you _do_ care what +becomes of Miss MacDonald. If you had not got Mrs. West's letter, you +would have had no sleep last night. As it is, knowing your granddaughter +has fallen into safe hands, you can comfortably disclaim anxiety." + +"You seem to fancy yourself a mind-reader, my good sir," returned Mrs. +MacDonald at her haughtiest, or what Barrie would have called her +"snortiest." "Think what you like. It is nothing to me, and thinking +costs naught. As for the hands she has fallen into, what do I know of +them? They may be black with sin for all I can tell. No doubt Barbara +Ballantree's daughter would be just as ready to accept help from such +hands." + +"As a painter, I try to keep mine clean," said Somerled. "I tell you +that in earnest, not in joke, because for the present I've constituted +myself your granddaughter's guardian. My plan is to take her in my +motor-car to Edinburgh, where I shall deliver her safely to Mrs. +Bal--Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald. In the car will be Mrs. West and her +brother, Basil Norman. Have you anything to say against the plan? If you +have, kindly speak now." + +"If I did speak, would it prevent your doing what you've made up your +mind to do?" + +"Perhaps not, unless your reasons appealed to my judgment," Somerled +admitted. + +"You're no prevaricator, anyhow." + +"I don't come of prevaricating stock." + +"You don't, if you're David MacDonald's son. He was a humble, +God-respecting man. But you have no humble air. You hold your crest +high." + +Somerled was minded to be impudent and say that in that case he must get +his hair cut; but he refrained. "The atmosphere of this house does not +conduce to humility, madam," he answered instead--and always as they +talked the two looked one another straight and full in the face. + +"H'm!" the old woman grunted. Yet there was something vaguely resembling +a twinkle in the glass-gray eyes, a gleam which Barrie and few others +now living had ever seen; for not more than one or two of her +fellow-beings had ever had the slightest idea how to manage Mrs. +MacDonald, _nee_ Ann (scorning an "e") Hillard. + +"Go on your motor trip, then, so far as I care," said she, a permission +which from her was well-nigh a blessing. "It will probably end in a +smash-up before Edinburgh." + +"I think not," said Somerled. "I drive myself, and I know how to drive +rather well." + +"I was not referring to physical results." + +"So I presumed. Nor was I," he retorted. + +If she found the reply enigmatical she did not say so. + +They had not sat down during the conversation. Now, Somerled took a step +toward the door. "I'm obliged to you for receiving me, madam," he said +as a prelude to departure. + +"I received you on the strength of your name," she reminded him. + +"Which I don't intend to disgrace in your eyes." + +"Why in my eyes? They will not long be looking your way." + +"I think they will, as long as I'm in charge of your granddaughter. +That's what I mean." + +"I do not thank you for the assurance. Except that when she's twenty-one +I shall make over certain money of my son's to her, I have washed my +hands of the girl." + +"I haven't. That's not the kind of washing to make them clean." + +"You reproach me, sir!" She glared at him. + +"Not at all, madam. Even if I would venture, there's no need, for I +think your bark is worse than your bite." + +Again she almost twinkled at the wretch's daring. There was excitement +in it, which she had not experienced since early married days. Then she +had had to do with another MacDonald, and even a Hillard could without +disgrace afford to be mastered by a MacDonald of Dhrum. + +"When I've put your granddaughter into more suitable guardianship than +mine," Somerled went on quickly, "I'll write and tell you." + +"Suitable guardianship! It will be some time before I get that letter." + +"I thank you for the compliment." + +"It was not one." + +"You're not to blame if I choose to take it as such." + +"I am not to blame in any way in this matter." + +"There I'm no judge. It's my own actions I must look after." And again +he smiled. + +"I advise you to be careful, sir, between Barbara Ballantree and +Barribel MacDonald. I wish you joy of them both." + +"And what of Aline West?" The question whispered itself in Somerled's +ears. + +But Mrs. MacDonald knew nothing of Aline West. And Somerled was +beginning to think that, for all the boasted sagacity of experience, he +knew not much more. + +"Thank you for your kind wishes," he said non-committally. "And now I +will wish you a good day." + +He put out his hand, and, to her own intense surprise when she thought +of it afterward, Mrs. MacDonald gave hers. Over the prominent knuckles +the old skin lay soft and loose. The grim woman was vaguely pathetic to +Somerled in his youth and strength and full tide of success. The touch +of the would-be iron hand in the velvet glove of faded age made him +conscious of his vast advantage over her. He went away filled with hope, +and a curious new joy of life, which was partly the excitement of +battle. + +"The _heather moon_!" he found himself saying, as he passed out of the +ill-kept, once lovely garden where Barrie had often dreamed. Perhaps the +thought came then because here and there a patch of heather glorified +the weeds, or perhaps because Barrie's dreams still empurpled their +birthplace. + + + + +IX + + +When luncheon-time drew near and Somerled was absent, Aline's heart +misgave her. It was useless to argue that he must have lingered in talk +with his chauffeur, with whom he had early gone to confer. Reason +offered this explanation, which was plausible, and altogether more +likely than any other; but instinct was deaf to it. Aline wandered +nervously about the house and garden, unable to settle anywhere, and it +was an added vexation to her disturbed spirit that Basil should be +giving himself heart and soul to the entertainment of that dreadful girl +in the summer-house. It was well enough that he should entertain her, +and keep her passive, but Aline would have liked him to be a martyr, +sacrificing his own inclination for his sister's good. She did not wish +to think that there was something about this young, crude creature which +attracted men to her, and caused them to find pleasure in her society. +Aline's head ached, and she could not think consecutively. Again and +again she asked herself, "What shall I do if he has been to see that old +woman and found out about the telegram?" but no clear answer would come. +She could only repeat the would-be consoling words, "But he _hasn't_ +been there. It's silly to think of such a thing. He's not that sort of +man." + +She was in the summer-house with her brother and Barrie MacDonald when +at last Somerled did come. She called to him gayly as he appeared round +the corner of an immense architectural rose-bush, and he answered +pleasantly. He even met her smile with a smile as friendly to the eye, +and there was no definable change in his look or manner, yet--Aline was +filled with a cold fear which chilled the perfumed August noon. Her +perception of the invisible was as sensitive as the needle of a compass +to the thrill of the magnetic north. Her brain suddenly buzzed as if a +hive of bees had been let loose in her head. A voice seemed to be +yelling in her ears accusations: "What a fool you have been--what a fool +you have been. It's all your fault if he has found out. You needn't have +done the thing. It wasn't necessary." + +She feared to meet Somerled's eyes and read condemnation, yet her very +dread forced her to seek them, and learn at once the best or worst, +since suspense was unbearable. It seemed to her that he avoided her +look; that he too was nervous and uncomfortable, while trying to appear +at ease. + +For a moment or two he talked of the car, which he had been to see, and +of a sight-seeing expedition round Carlisle which Basil had proposed for +the afternoon. Then he turned suddenly to Barrie: "I've been thinking +over what we can do for you, Miss MacDonald," he said. "We don't know +where your mother is now, but we do know that she'll be in Edinburgh the +first of next week. Perhaps we might be able to find out her whereabouts +meanwhile, but there'd be delay before we could expect answers to +inquiries, if she's playing small towns in order to knock her new play +into shape. You don't want to go back to your grandmother's. We're +starting off in my car to-morrow. I've undertaken the responsibility of +you, so I'm your guardian _pro tem_. I couldn't allow you to hang about +alone anywhere. The alternative is, taking you with us in the car. What +do you say?" + +"Me in a motor-car!" exclaimed Barrie, rapturous. "It can't be true." + +"It will be true if you say 'yes.'" Somerled spoke coolly, but it seemed +to Aline that his eyes were alight. They were fixed on the girl, noting +how she paled and flushed. Her face, seen in the golden lights and green +shadows of the summer-house, had the texture of flowers. Aline had not +known it was in her to hate any one so bleakly as she hated Barrie +MacDonald at this moment; and she hated Somerled too, more than she had +hated him last night. She ached to make him suffer as he was making her +suffer. If only she could--if she but had the power! + +This was the blow she had known would fall: the invitation to Barrie. +Now the worst had happened despite the risk she had run for its +prevention. And Somerled would not meet her eyes. Did this mean that he +not only made light of her arguments, but had found out the falsehood on +which they were based? + +"Of course I say 'yes!'" Barrie was gayly answering. "It seems more than +ever as if I were in a fairy story. Travelling for five days, in a real, +live motor-car, to see my real live mother! Oh, if _Grandma_ knew!" + +"She does know," said Somerled. The words spoke themselves. For once +unable to decide quickly and definitely, he had come back from Hillard +House to Moorhill Farm without making up his mind whether or no to tell +how he had spent most of his morning. He had left chance to settle the +question; and now it was settled. Still he did not look at Mrs. West. He +spoke in a commonplace tone, as if Mrs. MacDonald's knowledge of his +plan included no secret knowledge on his part. + +"How do you know she knows?" asked Barrie eagerly, leaning toward him +with elbows on knees, chin in hand, long red plait failing over +shoulder. "You--you haven't _seen_ her?" + +"I have." + +"You met her looking for me!" + +"No, not that." + +"Then you must have been to Hillard House." + +"Yes. I went there to talk with Mrs. MacDonald about you." + +To save her life, Aline could not have kept down her agonizing blush. +Tears started to her eyes. Though she had been half prepared for this +blow, it fell upon her with an almost mortal shock. Ostentatiously, +Somerled was keeping his eyes off her face; and that was worse than if +he had stared straight into her eyes. Her terrible blush must have +touched the consciousness of a blind man. It called Basil's fascinated +attention from the girl; and so stricken did his sister look that he +would have cried out to ask what was the matter had she not sealed his +lips with a glance of desperate command. + +There was no longer a gram of doubt. Somerled knew that Mrs. West had +lied about the telegram, and everything was changed between them +forever. For a moment Aline told herself that there was no hope, there +could not possibly be any; and yet, if he cared for her, would he not +forgive? Was there no way of saving the situation, and turning the +inevitable change into gain instead of loss? She took a quick and +courageous resolution, as a timid woman may when told that her life +depends upon a dangerous operation, to be performed instantly or not at +all. + +"Mr. Somerled," she said, "can I speak to you--just you and me alone for +a few minutes?" As she made her plea, she rose from the rustic seat +where she had been sitting by her brother's side and opposite Barrie. + +"Of course, with pleasure." Somerled rose too, stiff and alert as a +soldier on duty. She hated this stiffness, this alertness. It showed her +that he was sensitively dreading the scene to come, and hiding +reluctance behind a hard, bright shield. + +"Mrs. West," Barrie spoke out impulsively, "if you don't want me to go +in the car, I won't." + +"Of course I want you to go, silly child." Aline tried to withdraw +sharpness from her voice, but it was there, like the sting of a wasp in +a wound. "Even if I didn't think it wise for some reasons, it isn't my +car, you know, but Mr. Somerled's, and he has a perfect right to invite +any guests he likes. Don't imagine that I'm going to talk to him about +_you_. It's something quite different I have to say." + +Barrie was snubbed into instant silence; but as Aline and Somerled +walked away together they heard her appeal confidentially to Basil, in a +tone of passionate interest: "What _shall I_ do about clothes? I can't +go off in a motor-car with----" The rest was lost in distance. + +The two walked without speaking as far as the big, spouting rose-bush +and the junction where two paths met. Then, choosing the path which +avoided the house, Aline took her life in her hands. + +"You mentioned that telegram to Mrs. MacDonald?" + +"Yes," confessed Somerled. "The subject came up--accidentally." + +"What did she say? I want you to tell me. Afterward I'll explain--why." + +"She said that she hadn't sent any telegram; and I saw at once that you +must have made a mistake." + +"You needn't put it that way to save my feelings!" Aline caught him up, +panting a little, not trying to calm herself. "You knew that I had--told +you a fib. Be honest with me. You must. And I'll be honest with you." + +"I'm glad you're talking to me like this," said Somerled simply, +"because I was puzzled, I admit. I couldn't bear to think----" + +"I know exactly what you couldn't bear to think," she cut in, letting +herself break into a sob. "You thought: 'Mrs. West has told me a +deliberate lie because she's jealous of that child, and doesn't want me +to take her in the car.' Oh, don't deny it. I _know_. And it's true. I +_was_ jealous, I don't dislike the poor little thing. Why should I? +She's too insignificant, too much a child in intellect as well as years. +But--I wanted you to ourselves. It was horrid of me. Only you can't +imagine how I've looked forward to this trip, ever since the day you +asked us to take it with you. Before that I was bored with the idea of +writing the book we've promised our publishers. Our going with you made +all the difference to me. You see, we got to be such friends on +shipboard--that last night. I _am_ a jealous friend. I admit it. And it +was such a blow to have a stranger thrust upon us--to have _you_ thrust +her upon us--when you might have guessed how I felt, if we're friends. +The telegram this morning was from Sir George. It told me that Mrs. Bal +was coming to Edinburgh. Instantly I _knew_ you'd ask that girl to go +with us there in the car--oh, simply in your kindness of heart to a +waif. But I couldn't bear it. I saw everything spoiled--for us all, even +you. I was like a disappointed child. I had to do _something_--and on +the impulse I made up that fib. I'm not sorry even now--I think. Yet I +did mean to tell you, sooner or later, the truth. Honestly, I shouldn't +have kept silence long if you hadn't found out. I'm not a coward when +it's necessary to be brave." + +"I see you're not," said Ian. "You--have paid me a great compliment, and +I thank you." + +"You thank me for what--precisely? For telling a fib because I wanted to +keep my friend to myself--if I could?" + +"For liking me well to enough tell it." + +"For liking you well enough! Yet now I've shown my liking--and my +courage, you like me less." + +"No." + +"You do!" + +"No." + +"Prove that." + +"How do you want me to prove it?" + +Aline's voice was thick. She felt broken, but not beaten yet. "Prove +it," she almost whispered, "by sacrificing that girl to--_our_ +friendship. When we go back to the summer-house, tell her you've changed +your mind; that you'll find out at what place her mother is playing now; +and that after all you think it best to send her there at once. You +_could_ find out easily, you know! And I'd take the child myself if you +liked. I'd do that for you, if you'd do what I ask for me." + +"You're only trying me, Mrs. West," said Somerled. "You don't really +wish me to fail the girl." + +"Fail her! What an exaggeration. She _wants_ to go to her mother." + +"At present she wants to go to her mother by motor-car." + +Anger at his obstinacy and her own failure lost Aline her self-control. +"You mean you want the girl in your motor-car!" Her manner made the +words an accusation. But he took the challenge in silence, walking at +her side, his head slightly bent, his hands in his pockets. Aline darted +a glance at his profile. His jaw looked set, and he had the expression +of a man who would give anything to be smoking a cigarette. + +It was too late to grope her way back to the path of tactfulness, and +the hot blood in her temples made her indifferent to his opinion, to the +future, to everything except her own anger and the need to vent it. + +"Silence gives consent," she said bitterly, seeing her hopes lie broken +at her feet, but not caring much yet. Only, she knew dully that she +would care by and by, care to the sharpest point of agony. "Well, so +much for our friendship! I'm sorry. I would have done a good deal for my +part of it, but there's a limit, isn't there? And friendship can't be +all on one side. I'm afraid, if you want Miss MacDonald in your car, +you'll have to get her another chaperon. I don't engage in that +capacity." + +Now there was just one last loophole open for Somerled. He could protest +that Aline had misunderstood him; that he cared not a hang or anything +of that kind whether Miss Barrie MacDonald went to Edinburgh or Jericho; +that the only thing which mattered was Mrs. West's friendship. If he +said this quickly, she would hold out both hands to him and cry a +little, and beg his pardon for being cross. Then they would forgive each +other and everything would be as before, or better. But Aline waited +breathlessly for an instant, and several more instants: and Somerled +said nothing at all. He would have continued to walk slowly on if she +had not stopped suddenly in the middle of the path, and brought him up +short. Already she was beginning to feel the pain of loss and the +weighty irrevocability of everything. "What are we going to do?" she +panted, her breast rising and falling alluringly. Her cheeks were bright +pink, and her eyes brilliant. Never had she been so near to beauty; but +Somerled faced her with a calm very like sullenness. + +"What are _you_ going to do?" he answered her with a question. + +"What do you want me to do?" + +"I want you and Norman to go motoring with me through Scotland, of +course." + +"Thank you. But I've made my point, and I must stick to it. Basil and I +won't go with you if this girl goes." + +"We've quarrelled, then, have we?" he asked. His eyes were blue as the +ice of glaciers in his brown face. His mouth and chin looked hard as +iron; and never had Aline liked him half as well. + +"Yes, we've quarrelled--if you insist," she said. + +"Then I must no longer intrude on you as your guest." + +"You'll go----" + +"Naturally I'll go. I can't stay in your house--it's the same as your +house--when you think I no longer deserve your friendship. On my side, I +think you're unreasonable; but I may be wrong. Perhaps it's I who am +unreasonable, and can't see it. Anyhow, I shall have to go." + +"I won't have Miss MacDonald in the house a minute after you leave," +Aline said, almost threateningly. + +"Why should you? Her packing won't take long, poor child." + +"You'll have to send her back to her grandmother now," Aline warned him, +in a brief flame of defiance. + +"That's impossible. I wouldn't break my promise, even if Mrs. MacDonald +didn't forbid her the house." + +"She can't very well go alone with you to Edinburgh in your car, I +suppose?" + +"She is going to Edinburgh in my car, but not alone with me. Won't you +go too, Mrs. West, and let us forget all this nonsense?" + +"You call it nonsense? That shows how little you understand me, how +willing you are to spoil everything for the sake of this wretched girl! +Basil and I will simply go back to our original plan, and travel through +Scotland together in a hired car." + +"Luncheon is served, madam," Moore announced, at the turn of the path. + +Luncheon--and the world in ruin! + +"Mr. Somerled and Miss MacDonald will not be lunching," said Aline +icily. + +Moore hid surprise by retiring in decorous haste. + +"Good-bye, Mrs. West," said Somerled. + +He held out his hand, looking at her steadily, but she turned and rushed +away from him, crying. + + + + +BOOK II + +ACCORDING TO BARRIE + + + + +I + + +When the Great Surprise happened, Mr. Norman and I had just been having +a very nice talk. I'd never expected to know a real author, and of +course I wanted to talk about him, but he would talk about me instead. +He asked me questions in quite a different way from his sister's, though +I can't put the difference into words. I can only feel it. I know his +way made me want to answer him, and hers made me want to slap her. That +is queer, because she was not rude, but soft and gentle. + +Among other things that Mr. Norman teased me to tell, was about the +silly stories which I've always been scribbling secretly ever since the +time when I had to print because I hadn't learned to write. He said that +he would like to see them, but I told him they were torn up, even the +last one, which I stuffed into the chimney in my room before I ran away +from Grandma's. Then he said I must write another, and he would help me. +I _was_ excited when he went on to say that people who took to writing +like ducks to water when they were almost babies, without any one +advising them, generally had real talent. This made me wild to begin +writing again at once, and I envied him because he and Mrs. West had +planned out a story all about their motor trip in Scotland. I thought it +would be the greatest fun to write of things that were actually +happening; but he explained that he wasn't going to bring in the real +people or what they did or said, only the scenery and perhaps a few of +the adventures, glorified a little. I told him that I should enjoy even +more writing things exactly as they were in life; then he argued that if +one did it in that way it wouldn't be a story, but a kind of diary. + +Perhaps this _is_ a kind of diary, but I feel as if I must write it, +especially as, because of what happened while we were talking, Mr. +Norman's story can't be written after all. At least it can't be written +about this trip and this beautiful car. + +That prim maid Moore, who looks as if she'd had a rush of teeth to the +head, minced to the door of the summer-house where we were sitting, and +called us to luncheon. Of course that interrupted our conversation, but +Mr. Norman said it must be "continued in our next," like a serial story +and we'd make the most of our time between Carlisle and Edinburgh. +"You'll let me help you all I can, won't you, Miss MacDonald?" he asked. +I said "Yes," and thanked him; and then he exclaimed, "Let's shake hands +on the compact." + +I didn't know precisely what a compact was, but I shook hands, because +most things which begin with "com" are pleasant. Just as we were giving +the last shake, Mr. Somerled appeared, and I felt myself getting red, +because his eyes looked so blue and fierce, as if he were vexed about +something. + +"We're striking a bargain," Mr. Norman explained. "Miss MacDonald has +promised to let me help her up the ladder of fame as an author. How many +days are you going to give us together in your motor-car?" + +"My dear chap, I'm sorry to tell you that Mrs. West and I have just had +a row," said Mr. Somerled, "and she's backed out of the trip." + +I've always laughed when I've heard or read the expression, "his face +fell"; but faces do fall. Mr. Norman's chin seemed suddenly to grow +inches longer. "Backed out of the trip!" he echoed, as if he couldn't +believe his ears. + +"Yes. I asked her to reconsider, but made a mess of it. I fear there's +no hope that she'll change her mind. She says you and she will take your +trip alone." + +I quite wished that he'd invite Mr. Norman to break off from his sister, +but he didn't. Perhaps that would not have been etiquette. I don't know +anything about such things. The etiquette book Heppie lent me to read +once was too uninteresting, worse than Hannah More. + +Mr. Norman's face went on falling. His sister would not have been +complimented if she had seen it. + +"In fact," Mr. Somerled added, "I'm afraid this is good-bye. Mrs. West +doesn't expect"--he stopped and laughed a little--"doesn't expect Miss +MacDonald and me to stay to luncheon." + +I see now that it was horrid of me, but I clapped my hands, and cried +out, "How thrilling!" Mr. Norman turned red. I hope he didn't think I +was ungrateful. It wasn't that at all which made me clap my hands. It +was being coupled with Mr. Somerled in the row, and wondering what was +going to become of us both. + +"It's like Adam and Eve being turned out of Paradise, by the Angel with +the Flaming Sword," I said, to make things better; and perhaps it did, +for they both laughed this time, but it was very queer laughter. If +Heppie had heard _me_ laugh like that, she would have accused me of +hysterics. But it was good for Mr. Norman, and stopped his face from +falling. He stammered regrets and apologies and suggestions, and Mr. +Somerled seemed upset, too, though not excited, like Mr. Norman and me. +He went into the house to collect our belongings, and I _was_ thankful +not to meet Mrs. West. She kept out of our way, but one of the servants +helped Mr. Somerled, who has no man to look after him, and another, not +that horrid Moore, offered to help me, but I said, "No, thank you." I +knew she would make fun of my bundle to the others afterward. All the +maids have stick-out teeth in this house, as if they'd been engaged on +purpose, and somehow it makes them seem formidable, like having ogresses +to do your packing. + +Fancy Mr. Somerled, in the midst of his worry, remembering that I might +want to give money to Mrs. West's servants! He doesn't seem the sort of +man who would think of little things like that, but I begin to see +already that it isn't easy to guess what he is like really, unless he +chooses to let one do so. As we were on the way to the house, he said to +me in a low tone, "Here's an installment of what I owe you for your +brooch," and quickly he slipped a lot of gold and silver into my hand, +making my fingers shut round the coins. + +"But you haven't got the brooch yet," I whispered back. + +"I'll trust you," he said, in an absent-minded way, as already his +thoughts had rushed off to something else. And no wonder! + +I gave a ten-shilling piece to the maid, with a grand air which must +have impressed her, because she treated me almost respectfully after +that, and secretly smuggled down my ugly bundle to the front gate, +where, in a few minutes more, Mr. Somerled's big car came to fetch us +away. Some one must have been sent to fetch it, and there were a few +crumbs on the chauffeur's coat, which made me fancy he'd been called +away in the midst of his luncheon, poor man. He must have been +surprised, but he had that ineffable marble-statue look which I've +noticed on the faces of grand coachmen driving high-nosed old ladies in +glittering carriages through the streets of Carlisle. Heppie says that +the true test of a well-trained servant is to show no emotion in any +circumstances whatever; so I suppose this big chauffeur, whose name is +Vedder, must be very well trained indeed. He is a strange looking man, +but very smart, and, being a Cockney, carefully puts all his "h's" in +the wrong place. If he forgets to do this, he goes back and pronounces +the word over again. He travelled to America from London to be Mr. +Somerled's coachman years ago, and then he learned how to drive a +motor-car and be a mechanic, because he couldn't bear to have his master +tearing over the earth with any one else. Mr. Somerled told me all this, +coming from the railway station, when he was bringing me to Moorhill +Farm. + +Mr. Norman saw us off, and was very cast down as Mr. Somerled's luggage +was put on the car, but he was so loyal to his sister, that he would not +say much except, "I'm sorry!" over and over again. + +I was afraid that Mr. Somerled would drive (as he told me the night +before he liked driving his own car) and leave me sitting alone in the +immense gray automobile, which has a glass front and a top you can put +up or down. But to my joy he got in beside me, and let Vedder take the +wheel in those large, well-made hands which carry out the marble-statue +idea. I had no notion where we were going; and Vedder drove so slowly +that I guessed he was expecting further instructions. + +As soon as we were safely away from the gate I asked the question +burning on my tongue: "You _won't_ take me to Grandma?" + +"I thought you trusted me as I trusted you," was the only answer Mr. +Somerled condescended to make. + +Suddenly I saw myself a selfish pig. "I do trust you," I insisted. "But +I _ought_ to want to go back of my own accord, rather than let you give +up--things--for me. I'm nothing to you----" + +"You're Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald's daughter, and--er--a fellow-being." + +"If it comes to that, I suppose a worm's a fellow-being. But this worm +has turned, and would as soon cross the path of a perfectly ravenous +early bird as go to its grandmother. So I won't do that, even for your +sake, though you've been so kind; but I wish you'd drop me at the +station where you found me, and let me travel to Edinburgh by train. I +can wait there for mother----" + +"Nonsense!" he broke in; a word he seems devoted to, as he has already +used it several times to pound down some suggestion of mine as if he +were breaking it with a hammer. He has the air of a man used to getting +his own way with the world, anyhow with women, and I can't think it good +for him; though Mrs. West's one idea apparently is to do what will +please him, not fussily, but gently and sweetly; so that must be what +men like. I should pity him if he lived with Grandma! I suppose it is my +living with her for so long which makes me feel like going against +strong, dictatorial people, just to see what they will do. With him, +that plan would be exciting. It is ungrateful of me, but I long to +contradict him about something, it doesn't matter what, and try my +naughty little strength against his, like a headstrong, conceited mouse +pitting itself against a lion. + +I had no inclination to contradict or fight with Mr. Norman. But he has +pathetic, wistful eyes, asking for kindness, whereas Mr. Somerled's look +bored with things, as if he needed waking up. + +I thought these thoughts while he went on to remind me more gently, that +he'd promised to motor me to Edinburgh, and that he had quite a strong +weakness for not breaking promises. + +"But I give you back this one unbroken, not even cracked," said I. "So +that's different." + +"I don't choose to take it back," said he. "You'll humiliate me if you +refuse to go to Edinburgh in my car--with a competent chaperon, of +course." + +"A chaperon! My gracious!" I couldn't help laughing. "Aren't you +chaperon enough--a great big, grown-up man?" + +"I suppose you think me very old," said he; "and so I am, compared to +you; but I'm afraid--no, I'm _not_ afraid--to tell you the truth, I'm +extremely glad that I haven't come yet to the chaperon age." + +"What is the chaperon age for a man?" I inquired. + +"Seventy." + +"And you won't be that for a long time," I added dreamily, wondering how +old he really was. + +For an instant his eyes waked up thoroughly, and he looked as if he were +in a fury; then he burst out laughing. But his brown face was rather red +when he asked if I would mind mentioning my honest impression of his +age. + +I thought a minute, and then said that perhaps he might be--well, nearly +thirty. He laughed again, and seemed relieved, but wanted to know if +thirty struck me as old or young. I didn't know what to answer, not to +be impolite, so I said presently that I had always thought of thirty as +being the year when you were not middle-aged yet, though anything that +happened to you _after_ your thirtieth birthday couldn't matter. +"Still," I went on, "you look young. Only, there's something important +and decided about you, as if you must have been grown up for a long +time." + +"Not to deceive you, I'm thirty-four," he said. "Now, no doubt, you'll +consider me a sort of Ancient Mariner. Perhaps that's all the better." + +"Looking at you, I can't, even if it would be better," I had to confess. +"You're so alive--so strong, so--almost violent. I can't somehow imagine +that you've ever been younger, or that you can ever grow older." + +Just then, when we'd forgotten the chaperon part of our conversation, +the car slowed down and Vedder made a kind of signal of distress. Mr. +Somerled put his head out through the open window, whereupon I think +Vedder must have reminded him that we were coming into town, wanting to +know what he was to do next. In came Mr. Somerled's smooth black head +again, and he glared at me in a kind of amused desperation. "You must +know some one who would act as your chaperon for a few days, at a good +salary--sent home by train when we'd done with her. That ex-governess or +nurse of yours, you told me about." + +"Oh, Heppie wouldn't be found _dead_ leaving Grandma," said I. "Not that +she loves her. Neither does a mouse love a cat, when it won't try to +escape. It keeps running back and being polite with its eyes bulging +out." + +"There must be somebody else. Think. Has your grandmother any friends?" + +"Dear me, no. She'd scorn it. Only a few acquaintances and a relation or +two, whom she snubs when they come to see her and scolds if they don't. +They wouldn't--but, oh, perhaps Mrs. James _might_. I wonder?" + +"Where does Mrs. James live?" + +I told him quickly that it was in a little sort of cul-de-sac street +called Flemish Passage, not far from English Street, where Heppie and I +sometimes look at the shops; and I was going on to say more about it and +about Mrs. James, but before I'd time to draw another breath, Mr. +Somerled grabbed up a speaking tube and was talking through it. "Find +Flemish Passage near English Street, and I'll tell you where to stop," +he addressed the back of Vedder's massive head. + +"It's an old curiosity shop, and she keeps it," I hurried to explain, +but that didn't seem to matter to Mr. Somerled. + +"I hope you like the lady's society," was all he said. + +"I love her, and she's an angel, but a very peculiar angel; and Grandma +doesn't call her a lady, so perhaps you won't," I broke the news to him. + +"I daresay your grandmother wouldn't have called my mother a lady," he +replied coolly. "She was an angel, and the cleverest, most gracious +woman I ever knew or expect to know." I did like him for saying this. +And something told me that, in spite of his domineering way with me, he +wouldn't be one to put on high and mighty airs with Mrs. James, as +Grandma does. + +English Street, of course, is the main street of Carlisle and runs north +to William Rufus's Castle that stands looking over the moors toward the +border, eight miles away. Grandma never would let Heppie take me into +the Castle, because it's turned into barracks now, and swarming with +soldiers. She said that her father called soldiers Men of Blood, and +seemed to think that ought to put me off from wishing to go in, but it +didn't a bit, rather the other way round. I love soldiers in books, and +should like to meet some. + +It was near the old Citadel of Henry VIII, where the towers have been +turned into court-houses, that we had to turn off, and it is there that +English Street really begins. It didn't take Vedder long to find Flemish +Passage--which Mrs. James says is named after the Flemish masons William +Rufus brought over to make the Castle, men who settled down afterward to +live in Carlisle. Maybe there were Flemish houses on the spot in those +days--who knows? I love to think there were; and though there isn't a +trace of anything half so ancient as William, Flemish Passage can't have +changed much from what it must have been in the Middle Ages. Even the +people who live there are mostly old, and as the big gray car turned +into the small, quiet cul-de-sac, elderly heads appeared at antique +windows of all the medieval houses. I should think nothing so exciting +had happened in Flemish Passage at all events since Carlisle surrendered +to Prince Charlie. The car looked enormous, as if it were a dragon +swelling to twice its size in rage because it knew there would be no +room for it to turn round when it wanted to get out. + +Mrs. James house used to be like the others till she had the two front +windows thrown into one, and took to keeping a shop. The way she +happened to do that was just as it was with Miss Mattie in that darling +"Cranford" I found with father's name in it; only Mrs. James, of course, +was married and Miss Mattie wasn't. I wanted to tell Mr. Somerled about +her, and how her husband, a distant cousin of Grandma's, was the doctor +that couldn't cure my father. Mrs. James herself wasn't a cousin, and +wasn't even of the north, so Grandma never thought of her, as she has no +opinion of southern people. Mrs. James was Devonshire, and (in Grandma's +eyes) a _mesalliance_ for Richard James. He lodged with the Devonshire +girl's mother when he was a medical student in London, Heppie told me +once; and even Heppie puts on superior airs with Mrs. James, whom she +considers a feckless creature. I have an idea Heppie knew the doctor +before he met his wife, and he was her One Romance; so naturally she +thinks the "James Mystery" wouldn't have happened if he had married her +instead. Of course, though, it could never have occurred to _any one_ to +marry Heppie, whereas Mrs. James must always have been a darling and +very pretty in her fluffy way. Grandma says the "James Mystery" (as it +seemed it was called in the newspapers at the time, when I was very +small) never was a mystery except for "fools or sensation-mongers." I +heard her speak those very words to poor Mrs. James, who has always +called on Grandma once a month, ever since I can remember, though +Grandma does nothing but make herself disagreeable and say things to +hurt Mrs. James feelings, knowing that her one dream of happiness is in +believing her husband still lives. + +Nobody else believes this, Heppie has told me; because Doctor James had +a motive for not wishing to live, "apart from any disappointment in his +home life." After he didn't cure my father there was another case which +he was supposed not to have understood. I don't know exactly what +happened, for my questions weren't encouraged; but he operated on the +person when he ought not, or else didn't operate when he ought; anyhow +the person was a high personage, so there was trouble, and then might +have been a legal inquiry if Doctor James hadn't gone one day to +Seascale, and from there disappeared. His hat was found on the beach, +and a coat, and though his body was never recovered, all the world +except his wife felt sure he had drowned himself on purpose. As for her, +she is perfectly certain that he is alive, and she hopes to this day +that some time he will come to her, or else send for her to go to him. + +He disappeared or died, or whatever it was, seventeen years ago when I +was almost a baby; and he and Mrs. James weren't so very young even +then: but because he admired what he called her "baby face," she has +always tried desperately to keep her looks that he mayn't find her +changed when (she doesn't say "if") they meet again. It is the most +pathetic thing I ever heard of, because in spite of all the troubles she +has had, enough to make her old twice over, she has never lost gayety or +courage. Grandma and Heppie think it wicked and frivolous of her not to +"bow to God's will," but I think she is a marvel, and I love every +little funny way and trick she has. + +I don't know Mrs. James well enough to call her my friend, because I +don't often see her, and we've never been left alone together when she's +called on Grandma; Heppie took me to her house only once, just after +she'd grown poor through the breaking of some savings-bank, and turned +her little drawing-room into an antique shop. I fancy Heppie wanted to +go simply to spy out the nakedness of the land and satisfy curiosity in +Grandma. But I've never forgotten that day, and how brave and bright +Mrs. James was, selling off the pretty old things which she had loved: +heirlooms of her family and her husband's; old clocks, old vases, old +ornaments, and jewels, old china and glass, old samplers and bits of +embroidery or brocade, old furniture, old pictures and transparencies, +and everything of value except old books, which she adored because his +library had been her husband's life. It was clever of her, I think, to +group the treasures together in the little drawing-room with its oak +panelling and beams, its uneven, polished oak floor, and the two +diamond-paned windows which she enlarged and threw into one. It is not +like a shop, but just a charming room crowded full of lovely things, and +every one of them for sale, even the chairs. She wrote cards of +advertisement which the hotel people let her pin up in their halls or +offices, because they respected her pluck, and had liked Doctor James. +Americans and other travellers saw the advertisements, and went to her +house; so by and by Mrs. James made a success with her experiment. When +most of her own antiquites were sold, she could afford to buy others, +just as good or better, to take their places. She never made big sums of +money; but maybe that was because she had debts of her husband's to pay +off, which she kept secret. Besides, she is so generous and kind that +she would give good prices for things in buying, and ask small ones in +selling. + +"Mrs. James: Antiquities;" it says in gilt letters over the door on +which you can still see the mark left by the professional name-plate of +Doctor James. His wife had that taken off before she opened her shop, +because she felt that her going into trade might seem to discredit "his +honoured name." + +That is her great watchword: "his honoured name." I've often heard her +repeat it to Grandma, who invariably snorts and says something to +dishearten or humiliate the poor humble darling who thinks so much of +the Hillard and James families, and so little of herself. + +Opening the door, which rings a bell of its own accord, you walk +straight into the drawing-room, or hall. There's an oak screen which +cuts off your view to the left, and gives an opportunity for surprises; +and straight ahead at the back is a lovely old carved stairway, that +goes up steeply, with two turns and two platforms, where stand tall, +ancient clocks. Behind this hall or drawing-room, turned into a shop, is +a tiny parlour, where Mrs. James spends her few free hours, eats her +tiny, lonesome meals, and faithfully reads nearly every book in her +husband's library, so that she may be an intelligent companion for him +if he comes back. The walls of the parlour are covered with his books, +on shelves reaching up nearly as high as the low-beamed ceiling. Behind +the parlour is the kitchen, which looks into a tiny garden with one +lovely apple tree in it; and a back stairway almost like a ladder leads +to what used to be servants' rooms. Now Mrs. James sleeps in one; and +next door is the young girl, rescued from something or other by the +Salvation Army, who is her only servant. The front part of the +"upstairs," which you reach by the lovely staircase in the shop, is +occupied by a curate-lodger. Heppie says Mrs. James can afford to give +up having a lodger now, and that she keeps him on only because she's +stingy; or else because she thinks it "distinguished" to have some +connection with "Church." But I'm sure it's really because she's so kind +and good-natured, that she can't bear to turn the curate away from rooms +which have been his only home for years. + +She _was_ surprised to see me get out of an automobile with a man! I +know she did see me get out, because she opened the door herself, +exclaiming in her soft Devonshire voice, which has never been hardened +by the north, "Why, Barribel, my _dear_ child, can I _believe_ my eyes?" + +She throws emphasis on a great many words when she talks, which Heppie +says is gushing, and not reserved enough for a true lady; but I like it +when Mrs. James does it, because it sounds cordial, and more interested +in you than any other person's way of talking which I ever heard. + +I introduced Mr. Somerled, and hurried in the next breath to explain +that he was a MacDonald, because that made him seem like a relation, and +she wouldn't think to begin with that I was with a perfect stranger. But +as soon as I said "Somerled," she knew all about him, not only the +history of the first Somerled, which, of course, she _would_ know, but +that this one was a great celebrity. _I_ shouldn't have known that, if +Mr. Norman hadn't mentioned it: and Moore with the teeth told me, too, +that she'd heard Mrs. West say he was "a millionaire." I'm not sure if +Mrs. James knew about the millions, and even if she did, they wouldn't +seem half as important to her as his pictures, which she began to chat +about. Of course they're not as important, because anybody can have +millions by accident, but they can have genius only from what they are +in themselves. I felt more than ever how wonderful it was that he should +be so good to me; a person so flattered and run after; but all the same +I _couldn't_ make myself feel in awe of him. He seemed to me just a Man: +and I wanted as much as ever to see what he would do if I took my own +way and went against him. + +Mrs. James invited us into the house in her cordial, emphatic way, while +our coming and our being together were still mysteries which must have +puzzled her wildly. I saw by the blue flash in Mr. Somerled's eyes that +the artist in him admired the shop-drawing-room, and I thought from his +manner that he had taken a fancy to Mrs. James herself. I am so used to +her looks, from seeing her once a month ever since I can remember, that +I can hardly judge what she is like: and I suppose she _is_ peculiar. +But why shouldn't she try to keep young for the sake of her dream? I +think it's romantic and beautiful, and all one with her efforts to +become the intellectual equal of her lost husband. Grandma and Heppie +sneer after Mrs. James has been and gone, at the long words she uses, +and condemn her for wanting to deceive people into thinking she's much +younger than she is. But that is because they've no romance in them, and +can't understand her true motive. + +Her figure is like a young girl's, though perhaps a little stiffer and +less rounded. She is short, and has the tiniest waist in the world, so +tiny that it must hurt her to breathe, but that is her chief pride, +because "the doctor" (as she always calls him) fell in love at first +sight with her slender waist; and she has never let it measure an inch +more than it did then. A big man could span it with his hands. Perhaps +Doctor James could. She dresses her hair now as he liked best seventeen +years ago, though the fringe looks old-fashioned and odd. Grandma says +her hair is bleached, otherwise it couldn't have kept its yellow colour +at her age, forty-five. But it shines and is a lovely golden. She takes +the greatest pains in doing it, too, even when she's in a hurry on a +cold winter's morning, because she's never sure "the doctor" mayn't +appear that day, to give her a surprise. It would be too bad if, after +all these years, he should walk in and find her not looking her best! + +She has features like a doll's, with large dark blue eyes, and high +arched eyebrows which give her an innocent, expectant expression. Heppie +says she blacks them; but Heppie has no eyebrows at all, so it's +difficult for her to believe in other people's. + +When Mrs. James came to meet us at the door, she had a ladies' paper in +her hand, open at a page where it told you in big letters, "How to be +Beautiful Forever," so I suppose it's true, as Heppie says, that she's +always looking for recipes to keep young. She had on a lavender muslin +dress, very becoming to her fair complexion, which would be perfect if +she hadn't a very few little veins showing in the pink of her cheeks, +and some faint, smiling-lines round her eyes, which you see only if you +stare rudely as Grandma does, to "take down Mrs. James's vanity." +Lavender was the doctor's favourite colour, and she invariably wears one +shade or another of it. She never would go into mourning for him, as +people thought she ought to do when he disappeared. + +I explained everything, talking so fast that I got out of breath, while +Mr. Somerled walked round the room looking at the curiosities. I was +glad no customers came in to interrupt; but luckily there wasn't much +danger at that hour, as it wasn't yet half-past two, and people had +scarcely finished their luncheons. As I talked, she gave little +exclamations almost like the cooing of a dove; and the most desperate +thing in our story seemed to be, in her opinion, the fact that we hadn't +lunched. + +She insisted on giving us eggs and apple-tart and coffee in her own +dining-room, and she let us come into the kitchen and help cook. Mr. +Somerled looked quite young and boyish. We all three laughed a good +deal. Not a word did Mr. Somerled say about my going to Edinburgh or the +chaperon business until we'd finished our picnic meal, and he had +selected several of the best and most expensive things in the shop for +himself. After that, how could Mrs. James refuse him what he called "a +great favour" even if she'd wished to say no, which she didn't. On the +contrary, she was enchanted. Everything had worked together to make her +going possible. The curate had gone off for a holiday, giving her +permission to use his two rooms if she liked. I could have them till we +started; and she would ask a friend from next door to attend to the +shop, a nice girl who often helped her, if she were ill or had to go +away on a "curiosity quest." "Just think!" she exclaimed, "I've never +been to Scotland, though it's only eight miles distant, and I've pined +to go all my life. You'll find that I've a good book-knowledge of the +country, if that's any use, for my dear husband's favourite pastime has +been the study of history. Since he--left Carlisle, I've devoted much +time to following his researches." + +The long words do come so nicely from her pretty little mouth, and she +shapes them with such care, that they seem to issue forth one by one +like neatly formed birds being let out of a cage. She is making a +speciality of pronunciation, and what she sometimes speaks of as +"refined wording." She was a farmer's daughter in Devonshire. + +It was arranged that the girl from next door should be called in at +once, in order that Mrs. James and I might go and buy things. I was rich +on the proceeds of the brooch; for Mr. Somerled counted out the rest of +the money on the parlour table; and Mrs. James abetted him in saying +that fifty pounds was not a penny too much to lend on such a treasure. +But it does seem wonderful! Mrs. James herself must have felt flush +after making such good sales, and her eyes lit at the thought of a motor +hat and coat--they seemed exciting purchases. But when Mr. Somerled +mentioned the fact that mother is one of the best-dressed women in the +world, the little woman looked frightened. "I shan't dare take the +responsibility of choosing an outfit for the child, then," said she +nervously. (I do wish people wouldn't call me "child," though it's nicer +from Mrs. James than Mrs. West!) "Supposing she shouldn't make the +correct impression? Won't you be persuaded to help us, sir, with your +advice about the most important articles?" + +Somehow I feel that Mr. Somerled hates "sir" as much as I hate "child." +I expected him to make an excuse, that he knew nothing about such +things--or "articles," according to Mrs. James. But instead, he snapped +at the suggestion and looked as pleased as Punch. I suppose he doesn't +want me to be a fright and disgrace his car on the journey. + +When Miss Hubbell had come in from the next house, smelling of some +lovely sort of jam which she and her mother had been making, off we +three went in the gray automobile, Mrs. James trying not to look +self-conscious and proud, nor to give little jumps and gasps when she +thought we were going to run over creatures. + +It is many years since she has been to London. I think she was there on +her wedding trip and never since: and besides that expedition, Exeter +and Carlisle are her two largest cities: but, in order to impress the +great artist, she patronized Carlisle, saying we "mustn't hope for +London shops." I longed to catch his eye, because I'm sure he sees +everything that is funny; but it would have been horrid to laugh at the +kind darling, trying to be a woman of the world. + +In the end, it was Mr. Somerled and I who chose everything, even Mrs. +James's motor coat and hat, for she was too timid to decide; and if she +had decided, it would have been to select all the wrong things. I had to +get my dresses ready-made, because of starting for Scotland next +morning, and it was funny to see how difficult Mr. Somerled was to +please. One would have thought he took a real interest in my clothes; +but of course it was owing to his artistic nature. We found a blue +serge--I wouldn't have believed, after my deadly experience, that blue +serge could be so pretty--and a coat and skirt of creamy cloth; and an +evening frock of white chiffon, I think the girl called it. Actually it +has short sleeves above my elbows, and quite a low neck, that shows +where my collar-bone used to be when I was thinner than I am now. It +seems an epoch to have a dress like that. It was Mr. Somerled who picked +it out from among others, and insisted on my having it, though, simple +as it looked, it was terribly expensive. Mrs. James thought I couldn't +afford it, as I had so many things to do with my fifty pounds, but Mr. +Somerled brushed aside her objections in that determined way he has even +in little things. He said that it would be money in his pocket, as an +artist, to paint me in this gown; and that I must sit for him in it. He +would call his picture "The Girl in the White Dress"; and as he'd show +it in London and New York and get a big price, of course he must be +allowed to pay for the dress. Mrs. James seemed doubtful about the +propriety, but he drew his black eyebrows together, and that made her +instantly quite sure he must be right. When she'd agreed to my having +the dress on those terms, she couldn't--as he said--stick at a mere hat, +so he bought me a lovely one to wear with the creamy cloth. He suggested +that I should keep it in the "tire box" while motoring--a huge round +thing on the top of the car. + +"It is just like having a kind uncle, isn't it, my dear?" asked Mrs. +James. But I didn't feel that Mr. Somerled was the sort of man I could +_ever_ think of as a kind uncle, and I said so before I'd stopped to +wonder if it sounded rude. Luckily he didn't seem offended. + +I am writing this in the curate's sitting-room upstairs in Mrs. James's +house. It is night, and we are to start to-morrow morning very early, +because I happened to mention that I'd never seen the inside of Carlisle +Castle, or put my nose into the Cathedral. Grandma does not approve of +cathedrals, and their being historic makes no difference. Mr. Somerled +said that we could visit both, and then "slip over the border." Oh, that +border! How I have thought of it, as if it were the door of Romance; and +so it is, because it is the door of Scotland. I am afraid it must be a +dream that I shall cross at last, to see the glories on the other side, +and find the lovely lady who to me is Queen of all Romance--my mother. +Still, I've pinched myself several times, and instead of waking up in my +old room at Hillard House each time I've found myself with my eyes +staring wide open, in the curate's room, which has a lot of books in it +and a smell of tobacco smoke, and on the mantelpiece Mrs. James's +wedding wreath as an ornament under a glass case. + +Mr. Somerled has gone to a hotel; but he stayed to supper with us, and +Mrs. James brought out all her nicest things. It was much pleasanter +than supper last night at Moorhill Farm, though Mrs. West had lovely +things to eat. I am glad I shall never see Moore again! But I should +like to see Mr. Norman. I could feel toward him as if he were a brother. +But I don't know what to say about my feeling toward Mr. Somerled. I +think of him as of a knight, come to the rescue of a forlorn damsel in +an enchanted forest. After delivering the damsel from one +dragon--Grandma--he is going to take her away with another quite +different sort of a dragon; a well-trained, winged dragon, which people +who don't know any better believe to be only a motor-car. + + + + +II + + +I don't know how I dared with such a man, but I talked foolish fairy +talk to Mr. Somerled, _alias_ the Knight, this morning, and he answered +gravely in the same language. I should be doing him a great service, he +said, if I could lead him back to fairyland, because he used to know the +way, but had lost it long ago. He had given up the hope of finding it +again, and until the other day had feared that all the fairies were +dead. + +"If you find fairyland, it ought to be while the heather moon shines," I +told him. "But I shan't have much time to help you look for it, because +in five days you'll be leaving me with mother, and travelling on alone. +You must search for the key to the rainbow wherever you go; because, you +know, it might be _anywhere_, and the light of the heather moon would +show it gleaming in the grass, or under a flower, or even in the middle +of the road before your eyes." + +He looked at me in an odd, almost wistful way, and I couldn't look away +from him, though I wanted to, for it was as if he were reading my inmost +Me--using my eyes for windows, of which I couldn't draw the curtains. + +"_You_ might find the key, if you haven't got it already," he said. +"Anyhow, I can't find it without your help, But no matter. Perhaps I +shouldn't know what to do with it if I did, now I've grown old and +disillusioned." + +Then I answered, because I couldn't help it under the spell of his eyes. +"You're not old or disillusioned. You're a Knight: and knights who +rescue damsels are always young and brave." + +Before I saw him, if any one had told me a person of over thirty was not +middle-aged, I should have thought it nonsense. But now I see that even +_thirty-four_ is not old. It seems exactly the right age for a man. + +"If you dub me Knight, I christen you Princess," said he, laughing as if +embarrassed, yet pleased. "Because, I confess I wandered near enough to +the border last night, to think of you as a princess who'd been shut up +in a glass retort, as all really nice princesses were in my day, in +fairyland. Now the retort has been opened, though the princess believed +it to be hermetically sealed----" + +"It was the knight who opened it!" I interrupted him. "But did you +_really_ go near to the border?" + +"The border of fairyland." + +"Oh! I meant Scotland. But, after all, to me it seems much the same +thing. Doesn't it to you?" + +"I haven't thought of it so for a good many years," he said. "Yet it +might be----" + +I lost the rest, because Mrs. James came in, ready to start. We had been +standing together in the little sitting-room at the back of the house +while she gave last directions to Miss Hubbell. And I had on my new +serge, of course, with a blouse more fit for an angel than Barrie +MacDonald; and a gray coat and a gray hood with a long gray veil +floating out from it--all the same gray as the car, and chosen to match. +I couldn't help thinking, when I put on the hood before the curate's +looking-glass, that in spite of a green crack across my face and one +purple splash on my eye (it's a very antique glass, not used to girls' +complexions) I really wasn't so bad. Oh, if only mother is pleased! But +of course all mothers must be pleased with their children. One reads a +great deal in books about mother's love. + +We bought two small trunks yesterday, one for Mrs. James and one for me, +of the same gray colour as our cloaks, both made especially for a +motor-car: and Mr. Somerled has a gray trunk too, smaller than mine, +also a thing he calls a suit-case. This morning he brought us each a +present of a little gray handbag, fitted with brushes and combs and a +mirror, and tiny bottles for eau-de-cologne. My fittings look like gold, +though I suppose of course they are only gilded; and Mrs. James's are +silver. She thought it would hurt his feelings if we refused to accept +his presents, though she was brought up to believe that a lady must +never take anything from a gentleman except books, sweets, and flowers. +However, she says she has often found it difficult to conduct life +according to rules of etiquette, as there are so many complications +they've forgotten to put in. + +It was only half-past eight when we started, for we wanted to see the +Cathedral and the Castle. We were going to the Cathedral first, and on +the way we had to pass a big motor garage which has always made my heart +beat just to see, whenever Heppie and I have come to town shopping. I +used to wonder what it would be like to sail through the wide doorway in +a car of my own. Poor me, in my "glass retort," with little chance, it +seemed, of escaping from the dragon to travel in any sort of mobile +except the pillow-mobile into which I used often, to jump at night, and +flash away to far-off countries of dreamland. + +Now, poking its large nose out of that garage was a gray motor (but not +so nice a gray as ours) conducted by a wisp of a chauffeur. He was +driving two passengers, and I bounced on the springy back seat of our +car with surprise as I recognized them. Down went my head mechanically +in as polite a bow as if I hadn't been turned out of her house by Mrs. +West, though, when I realized what I was doing, I was afraid she might +pretend not to know me. It must make one feel such a worm to be ignored +when one has just grinned and ducked! But I needn't have feared. Mr. +Norman took off his cap as impressively as if I were really the princess +of the knight's fairy dream; and Mrs. West bowed, with a sweet, sad look +first at Mr. Somerled, then finishing up with me--just the reproachful, +yet resigned martyr-look a queen ought to give a crowd of rebellious +subjects on her way to the scaffold where their cruelty had sent her. + +Of course, if I had to show this to Mr. Norman, and get him to criticise +my writing as he offered to do, I couldn't put in such things; so +perhaps it's as well I shall have to worry on alone. + +Mr. Somerled, who was driving our car (with Vedder by his side, tooting +a musical horn), took off his cap as beautifully as Mr. Norman did, +without upsetting the steering, though there seemed to be a hundred +things and creatures of all descriptions in front of the motor's big +bright nose at that particular moment. I'd never realized until then +what a crowded, busy place Carlisle is; because it seems that you have a +different set of emotions and impressions especially for use in +motor-cars, and you _have_ to use them there, whether you like or not. I +suppose they lay quiescent in people for thousands of years, between the +epoch of exciting prehistoric beasts and automobiles; but now they come +into play often enough to make up for lost time. Not that I was afraid +in the car, even at first: only it did seem as if all the things that +moved on the face of the earth were aiming directly at us, to say +nothing of what we ourselves were doing to them. Luckily for me, I +trusted Mr. Somerled; and perhaps Mrs. James hadn't quite arrived at +that blissful state, or else she was naturally more timid, for she held +on so fast to the arm of the seat that she tore a glove, and had a +strained expression about her eyes and nostrils, though she beamed in a +painstaking way whenever she caught me looking at her. + +"Who is that pretty blond lady and the handsome dark young man you just +bowed to?" she asked, when we had passed the gray car that was like a +bad copy of ours. + +I told her that the man was Mr. Basil Norman and the lady was Mrs. West, +who had quarrelled with Mr. Somerled yesterday for some reason he +wouldn't explain, but probably because she couldn't be bothered with me. + +"Poor thing, she looked ready to cry!" sighed Mrs. James. "By this time, +I dare say, she's sorry for what she did, and praying for a chance to +make up." + +It would be Christian to pray for it too; but if making up means having +her in this car, I should have to pound the prayer into my heart like a +nail. + +There was no luggage in the other car, so I guessed that they were +trying it, to see whether they might like to hire it for their trip. +And, in spite of Mr. Norman being so kind and different from his sister, +I couldn't help hoping that they might begin with another part of +Scotland from ours. + +I kept on thinking of them as we wound through the traffic, though dear +Mrs. James continued to talk in an approving way, suited to my +intelligence, about Carlisle, and what a wonderful place it was, and how +proud we ought to be of it. How wide and well-built the new streets +were, and how interesting the old ones! How good for the complexion were +the winds that blew from the great moorland spaces beyond the town! I +hadn't thought much about all that myself, but certainly Carlisle is +romantic as a city, because in history you see how it has always been a +solid bulwark of the English, against which tides of invasion dashed +themselves in vain--a sort of watch-tower, whence England gazed out +across the border where danger lay in wait. I can't help turning my mind +to the romantic side of things, though it may be silly; but, after all, +it's just as real as the other side. Both are _there_, and you can +choose which you like to have for your own, as I said to Mr. Somerled. + +By and by we came to the Cathedral. I had to confess that I'd never been +in, but I didn't mention Grandma's prejudice against cathedrals. I'd +never pined to see the inside as I should if the outside were tall and +graceful and gray, instead of dumpy and red--an ochre-red colour which +is interesting only when the sun shines on it, or when wet and sparkling +with rain, in the midst of its lovely old trees. I almost gasped with +joy and surprise, however, when we entered, for the interior is +wonderful. It is as if the builders had had in mind an allegory about a +plain body and a glorious soul. + +Who would have thought that Mr. Somerled would remember so much history +of this northern country, after living, since he grew up, in America, +and making fame and fortune there? Mrs. James thinks that he even talks +like an American. She is a good judge, because more than half the +customers of her curiosity shop are Americans, and they chat with her +about all sorts of things. She reads her husband's history books, in +order to give him an agreeable surprise when he comes back, and the +knowledge she picks up is money in her pocket, because she can pour out +floods of information upon inquiring tourists. When she's kindly told +them all about the Romans in general and the Augustan Legion in +particular, and the Museum, and William Rufus's Castle; about the +Cathedral having been robbed of most of its nave to rebuild the city +walls in 1644, and Sir Walter Scott being married to his pretty French +bride there (or rather in St. Mary's Church, which was tacked on to it +in those days), and so on, Americans, and even canny Scots, can't sneak +out of her shop without buying something. + +I loved the immense simplicity of that Norman nave, with its huge +crumpled arches crushed into curving waves by the long-ago collapse of +the foundations and the strain of centuries on the masonry. It was a +startling contrast to go from the Norman part into the choir, all a mass +of carving and decoration, with its vast east window of jewel-like +thirteenth-century glass, which Mr. Somerled pronounced finer even than +the windows of York and Gloucester cathedrals. + +It seems that, although he hasn't been in Scotland since he left +seventeen years ago (vowing never to return until something or other +happened), he has been in England several times meanwhile, and travelled +all over Europe. He pretended that he wasn't at all excited about +crossing the border after these many years' exile, but when I cried out +that I couldn't believe him so commonplace and dull, he opened his eyes +wide, as surprised as if I'd boxed his ears. Mrs. James whispered that I +had been rude; and when I stopped to think, I realized how unlike Mrs. +West I had been. She is so gracious and complimentary to Mr. Somerled, +never saying anything she thinks he might dislike. But he heard Mrs. +James's whisper and said, "You must let her alone, please, my Lady +Chaperon, because I have a sort of idea she is going to dig me up by the +roots, and hang me up to air, and altogether do me a lot of good in the +end." + +They both knew much more about the Cathedral than I did, but even I knew +something, because there was a book of father's which I had read. So, +when they'd explained that the beautiful pink columns and the painted +oak screens looked new because Cromwell's men whitewashed everything +when they stabled horses in the Cathedral, and the white wasn't scraped +off till comparatively lately, long after the Cathedral was a prison in +1745, I told them something they hadn't learned, or had forgotten. I was +proud to have a story about Bruce coming to Carlisle to take his oath of +allegiance, before the great repentance, and hating the Cathedral ever +afterward. + +Even the Castle doesn't look as splendid from outside as it really is. +It's like an enormous box, a good deal battered and patched, containing +a kingdom's treasures. But of course I didn't know about the treasures +until I had been in. + +I had set my heart on seeing the place, because, as I said to Mr. +Somerled, I may never come back to Carlisle once I begin to live with +mother and go about with her. It was a blow to be told at the entrance +gate where the public enters (and where there ought to be a moat, but +isn't) that the Castle was closed for repairs. Even a grown-up man like +Mr. Somerled, who has seen everything, looked disappointed; but I +suppose he couldn't fight his way in against the power of England; and +we should have turned ignominiously away if it hadn't been for Mrs. +James. "You are surely not aware," said she in the aristocratic, +long-worded way she has when she thinks of living up to the doctor (and +when she isn't in earshot of Grandma) "of the distinguished identity of +this gentleman. This"--with a wave of her tiny hand--"is the great +portrait painter, Somerled. I will not introduce him as 'Mr.,' for he is +as far above that designation as Shakespeare." + +The poor wretch who had refused us was flabbergasted. "Excuse me a +minute, mum!" he muttered, and darted off to return with a young officer +before "the Great Somerled" had time to remonstrate. But, instead of +devoting undivided attention to the celebrity who must be appeased, the +officer looked at me, and we recognized each other. His face changed, +and I know mine did, because my cheeks felt as if some one had pinched +them. No wonder, because this had been my ideal for almost a year, +before I saw the photographs in shop windows of Robert Loraine, and I +had dreamed several times that I was engaged to him, with a gorgeous +diamond ring, and afterward that I was his widow in one of those sweet +Marie Stuart caps. It almost seemed as if he might see the cap in my +eyes, so I hurried to look down, and appear as calm as if I had never +met him in the street when out walking with Heppie. Once I dropped my +handkerchief, like ladies in books (only I did it on purpose, which they +never do if heroines, not villainesses), and he ran after us and picked +it up. That was, of course, the only time he ever spoke; but, though I +have cared not only for Robert Loraine but Henry Ainley since, I should +have known his voice anywhere. It was disappointing not to thrill; but +to be honest, I must admit that the voice sounded meaningless now, +compared with that of the Knight. Nevertheless, he was saying kind +things, offering to be our guide over the Castle and show us curiosities +that the "ordinary public" is not allowed to see. + +Just as Mr. Somerled was thanking the officer (I soon found out that he +was a lieutenant, named Donald Douglas) I heard other voices behind me. +"Good gracious!" I had just time to think, "it's Mrs. West and Mr. +Norman," when they came round a screen of masonry, and were upon us. As +soon as they saw who we were they stopped, Mrs. West pale, with the same +martyred expression, which grew sweeter and sadder every instant. Mr. +Norman shook hands with us in a cordial but embarrassed way, and the man +who had refused to let us enter at first would have headed the newcomers +off, but Mr. Douglas stopped him. + +"The Castle isn't open for visitors to-day," he said, "but I am making +an exception of Mr. Somerled's party, and as you are friends of his I +shall be delighted to include you." + +"You're very kind indeed; but----" Mr. Norman had to begin answering +because his sister didn't speak, and only looked, looked, looked at "her +friend Mr. Somerled." Her brother awaited a cue until the pause grew +embarrassing, and then the Knight sprang to the rescue of another lady +in distress. + +"We shall be delighted too, Mrs. West," he said. + +That was probably what she wanted, for she beamed on the Soldier Man +(_my_ Soldier Man), and accepted his kindness. Mr. Douglas then put +himself by my side; and Mrs. West annexed Mr. Somerled, or he annexed +her. This left Mrs. James for Mr. Norman, and they hadn't been +introduced: but they began chatting at once. + +Mr. Douglas seemed quite interested when I told him he was the first +soldier I'd ever known outside a book. He asked me if I thought I should +like soldiers, and I said yes. + +Into the heart of the fortress he led us: into the keep, square, +ponderous, forbidding, cool even on a hot August day, and the best part +left now of the proud old fortress. + +Mrs. West had a notebook, a little purple and gold one, like a +doubled-over pansy. As Mr. Douglas (laughing at himself because he was +not experienced as a guide) rattled off all the information he could +remember about Roman foundations--a sack by the Danes; William the +Conqueror, and William Rufus, and a British fort older than the time of +the Romans--she would scribble bits down hastily. But Mr. Norman took no +notes, and when he saw her writing, he looked sad, almost guilty. + +"Did you say the round wall the Britons built is under the keep?" she +asked Mr. Douglas, who is, I feel, the kind of young man you would be +calling "Donald" before you knew what you were doing. "Are there only +three fortresses like this in all England? Do tell me what makes this +unique?" And she looked at him so prettily that if I'd been in his place +I'd have run to her like a dog and fawned at her feet. But he never +stirred, and simply answered across the other people, though she is so +much more intelligent than I--I, who couldn't describe properly what is +a bastion. + +Our guide lit a candle for the dark dungeons, awful places with grooves +worn in the stone floors by the dragging feet of the prisoners, who +paced rhythmically up and down in the tether of their chains. On the +walls, covered with a cold sweat, as of deathless agony, we could see +the staples; and there was one spot of a dreadful fascination, where +Donald Douglas held his candle to show a trail of slimy moisture. Always +this weeping stone had been there, he said, no one knew why; and in old +days, when these dungeons bore the name of the "black hell," prisoners +tortured with thirst used, animal-like, to lick the oozing patch, making +many hollows round it like miniature glacier mills. After Culloden one +hundred and eighty men were thrown in during one night, and only fifty +were alive in the morning. + +It made me feel very loyal to Scotland hearing stories like this--though +I was proud of the Castle too. And I loved the tale of Willie Armstrong, +Kinmont Willie, treacherously given up to Lord Scrope, for the worst +dungeon of all, by troopers who in taking him violated a border truce. +His escape was a real romance; and I am glad Lord Buccleugh, who saved +him, was an ancestor of Sir Walter Scott. + +It was no use appealing to Lord Scrope, the Warden of the West Marches, +for justice, so Lord Buccleugh resolved to make a dash, and rescue the +raider, whom he loved. He got forty men (the English said two hundred, +but I know better), attacked the Castle, took it by assault, and carried +Willie, with fetters still dangling from his wrists, clear away across +the Eden and the roaring Esk, where none dared follow. When Queen +Elizabeth asked him afterward how he had dared, he said, "What is there +a brave man will not dare to do?" + +It was not in the first dungeons that we heard the story of Willie +Armstrong, but later, in the part of the Castle which the public is not +allowed to see. We got there by climbing steep stairs into what are now +the soldiers' storerooms: and it's because they are storerooms that +they're kept so private. Once these rooms too were prisons; and behind +an immense door of oak, almost in darkness, are perfectly wonderful +wall-carvings cut into the reddish sandstone by prisoners: figures of +men and devils; scenes of history; initials woven into ingenious +monograms, Prince Charlie's among them, and hearts interlaced. I wish I +had lived in those days, and I wondered aloud if there were any girls +named Barribel then. Donald Douglas said yes; it was a very ancient and +well-loved Scottish name. + +Stupid people in 1835 tore down most of the tower where Queen Mary was +imprisoned; but they were stopped before it was all gone, so luckily +there is a corner left, with a few graceful carvings on the outer wall. +And only three years ago a wonderful old table was found hidden away in +a dungeon which, it is thought, must have been used as her dining-table, +before she was whisked away from Carlisle to Bolton Castle in 1568. We +saw the table--very dark, very rough, looking like a prehistoric animal +turned to wood; and Donald Douglas said it was perhaps the oldest table +alive in England to-day--as old as King Edward's, and of the shape which +gave an idea later for Tudor tables. As he talked, I could almost see +Queen Mary sitting by this queer piece of furniture eating a poor meal, +and reading some book which might help her forget--perhaps idly +fingering the splendid black pearls which Mrs. James said were bought +last year in a tiny shop in Scotland, kept by descendants of a faithful +maid who went with her to the scaffold. And the shopkeeper, who thought +they were wax beads, lying in an old forgotten box, sold them for ten +shillings! + +They found in another dungeon of the Castle, hidden in a crack of the +wall, a silver snuff-box with a withered finger in it, which must have +been a prisoner's "fetich." But it couldn't have brought him luck; +otherwise, if he'd been released, he would have taken it away with him. +Probably he swung on the hanging beam that sticks out over the window of +the old "condemned cell." + +Next to Queen Mary's table, and perhaps the roof of the keep whence we +could see away over the border into mystery-land, I liked best of all +the Castle things a little deserted house in a courtyard, where Richard +III lived for a while, when he was young. Few people know about it, or +are taken to see it. But it alone would be enough to make the Castle +interesting if there were nothing else. Only a few empty, echoing, +half-ruinous rooms there are, with a queer chimney or two to give +comfort; but Richard's enemies made it a charge against him that he +lived in Carlisle Castle, splendidly housed in sinful luxury. What a +pity all the tales against him were not so little true as that! + + + + +III + + +We're in Scotland! + +Caesar could not have revelled in crossing the Rubicon as I revelled in +crossing the border. The very word rings out like the sudden sound of +bells, or the mysterious music that thrills one's blood in dreams. + +Poor Caesar was obliged to burn his nice boats, and think disagreeable +thoughts about the great responsibility he had taken, whereas we made +our crossing in a beautiful motor-car, and I had no responsibility +whatever. As for disagreeable thoughts, I had a few in England, but the +air of Scotland has chased them away. I see that they were silly as well +as selfish thoughts. I was so wicked that I hoped Mr. Somerled would not +make up his quarrel with Mrs. West. I was afraid that if he did the poor +princess he had rescued would be in his way, and that he would wish her +safely back in her glass retort. Now they _have_ made up, yet somehow I +don't feel in the way. He is so kind, and--yes, I must admit it--Mrs. +West is so tactful. + +It seems that while Mr. Douglas and I were walking and talking together +in Carlisle Castle she apologized to Mr. Somerled. And outside the +entrance gates, when Mr. Douglas had shaken hands, hoping to "run across +us" when he gets leave for Edinburgh, Mrs. West walked up to me. "I've +begged Mr. Somerled's pardon," she said, with her pretty smile which +never changes, "and he has forgiven me, so you mustn't go on thinking me +an ill-natured, bad-tempered person, please; I'm not really. Only we +writing people have 'temperaments,' just as artists have--Mr. Somerled +himself, for instance. My brother scolded me, and I deserved it. He is +_so_ interested in you and your talent for writing, and wants to be your +friend. You won't blame him for my fault, will you?" + +Of course I said no, and she held out her hand. When I'd put mine into +it, she pressed it gently, and before letting it go asked in a lower +voice if Mr. Somerled had told me why they quarrelled. + +I shook my head emphatically as I answered that he hadn't said a word, +and she looked suddenly much happier. "That is _like_ him!" she +exclaimed--if one can exclaim in a whisper. "Well, we must forget what's +passed, and think of the future. Basil and I have hired a car now, and +will travel in it; but that will be all the better for our novel, as +I've just been telling Mr. Somerled, for we shan't have anything to +distract our minds from the scenery and our notebooks. I've begged him +to feel _no_ regrets: for now we're friends again, and we shall meet +constantly, no doubt, without any embarrassment, but a great deal of +pleasure. As for you, dear little girl, you mustn't feel that the cloud +we've passed through need shadow you. It had to do only with us +grown-ups. You have but to 'play dolls' and be happy, until you're +safely tied up in your mother's apron-strings. Not that she's likely to +have any!" And Mrs. West laughed, showing her white teeth that are +almost like a child's. + +"Thank you," I said. "I mean to be happy--_very_ happy!" + +She looked over her shoulder at Mr. Norman, as if giving him a signal, +and he came and talked to me. He said that he had hardly slept all +night, because he was so miserable over what had happened, for every +one's sake, but especially for his own, as he felt that a beautiful hope +had been snatched away from him. "It was the hope of a friendship with +you," he added. "But now we'll take it up just where it fell down, won't +we, finding that it isn't broken after all?" + +While we were shaking hands I heard Mrs. West tell Mr. Douglas that I +was the daughter of Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald, and he seemed immensely +astonished, just as Mr. Somerled had, and Mrs. West and Mr. Norman. + +I wonder why every one is so surprised? Can it be that actresses do not +often have children? + +We bade each other good-bye, all of us, for Mrs. West and Mr. Norman are +going to see some places that apparently Mr. Somerled doesn't care +about; and it isn't quite certain when we shall meet again. "We shall be +like bad pennies, always turning up," Mr. Norman said; and Mrs. West +added quickly to Mr. Somerled, "But if we do, you mustn't feel that +we're tracking you down. The exigencies of authorship force us to be +conscientious sight-seers." + +As she spoke, she gave her brother a look. I don't know what it meant, +but his face had a sad, tired expression, as if there had been some +dispute or argument between him and his sister, and he was sick of it. I +don't feel, somehow, that he's in a good mood for their story-writing +together just now, and I'm sorry for him. I believe he would rather be +motoring with us than with her. Perhaps they have had a difference of +opinion about the plot of their book, for he told me in the summer-house +that he'd suddenly got a new idea for a motor romance, and had lost +interest in the old one. + +When we were ready to start away from Carlisle Castle, Mr. Somerled +condemned Vedder to sit at his feet; but the man seemed to take this +quite for granted, and not to mind in the least. "Would one of you care +to sit beside me?" he asked with so wooden an expression that it was +impossible to guess whether he would prefer Mrs. James or me to say yes. +Selfishly, I wanted him to prefer me, and because he didn't seem to +mind, I pretended not to hear, but went on talking to Mr. Douglas as if +he were the most important person in the world. Suddenly I felt a kind +of power over him, as if I were a grown-up woman in a book, and could +make men take an interest in me. Still, I could quite well hear Mrs. +James answer that she was too great a coward for the front seat, but she +was sure I would love it. Mr. Somerled turned to me then, without +speaking, as if to wait for me to answer, and I couldn't help thinking, +by the look in his eyes, that he _had_ wanted me, in spite of the wooden +expression. So I stopped in the midst of a word to Mr. Douglas, and +said, as meekly as a trained dove, that I should like to sit in front. + +"What a pity you haven't got a congenial, romantic companion in the car, +like that lad," said the Knight, rather sharply, "instead of a war-worn +veteran of over thirty." + +"Oh, I'd rather have you, because I feel already as if I'd known you +always," I explained. "And do you know, it didn't seem to me there was +anything romantic about Mr. Douglas, except his name." + +"In that case, you are a little flirt," said he, driving fast. But when +I looked at him in the greatest surprise, he seemed sorry. "I take that +back," he said. "I really don't believe you know yet what the word +means, or what you've done to earn it. Are you contented with me as a +companion, or would you rather have Douglas, or Norman? I should really +like to know, out of sheer curiosity, so you needn't mind telling the +truth, for in any case you won't hurt my feelings." + +"Why, but you are my Knight!" I said. And he asked no more questions +then about personal matters. We talked of the scenery, or he let me +talk, and said that it didn't disturb him in driving. He seemed quite to +take an interest in what I had to say, as if I had been an intelligent +person like Mrs. West. He didn't laugh at the high-flown ideas I've +collected about history, and frontiers between countries, but said that +my enthusiasms were contagious. + +"I'd given up all hope of a thrill at crossing the border," he said. "I +thought it was too late. 'What's long sought often comes when unsought,' +you know--or rather, you don't know yet, and I hope you never will. You +are making me wonder if, after all, instead of putting off my homecoming +too long, I haven't chosen just the right moment." + +I was glad to hear this, though I don't know even now how I managed to +give him that idea, unless by boiling with inward joy, and always +insisting that the world's not old, but young--a wonderful place, where +every flower and bird and every ray of sunlight is worth being born to +see. + +I asked him not to tell me when we came to the border, because I hoped +to know it by instinct; and, as it turned out, I _did_ know. But I think +any one with eyes must have known. + +Out from old Caer Luel, our road had crossed the Eden where Willie +Armstrong escaped, and ran on white and smooth toward the Solway, whose +sands glistened golden in the sun. The tide, which I'd read of as racing +like a horse at gallop, was busy somewhere else, and the river lay +untroubled, a broad, blue ribbon in the sandy plain where Prince +Charlie's men and horses once struggled and drowned. + +Now I knew we must be in the Debatable Lands, the hunting-ground of the +border raiders, beautiful wild land, full of the sound of rivers, voices +of the Teviot and the Eden, the Ettrick and the Yarrow, singing together +and mingling with the voices of poets who loved them. Through the +country of dead Knights of the Road my live Knight of To-day drove +slowly, thinking maybe of dim centuries before history began, when the +Picts and Gaels I have read of fought together among the billowy +mountains; or of the Romans building Hadrian's wall against the "little +dark men"; or of the many heroes, Scottish and English, who had drenched +the heather with their blood since then; or perhaps of himself, and the +days of his boyhood when he said good-bye to bonny Scotland and went to +try his fortune in the New World. Whatever his thoughts may have been, +they made his face at first sad, then hard; I fancied that it was of +himself as a boy he thought, and of his father and mother, whom he will +not see when he goes home; so to bring him out of his brown study I +began to tell him a story Mrs. Muir had told me about the border. It was +the tale of the last Picts, and the secret of the heather ale. All, all +the mysterious little dark people had been swept away in a great +massacre by the Scots after centuries of fighting with the Romans; and +only a father and son were left alive. "Give me thy Pictish secret of +brewing heather ale," said the King of the Scots, when the pair were +brought before him, "and I may perhaps spare thee and thy son." + +Then the dark Pict shut his eyes for a moment, and thought what to do. +He thought that the King would kill him and his son when he had their +secret; and he thought of the mead which had the power of wafting the +Picts to the Land of Pleasant Dreams. + + From the bonny bells of heather, + They brewed a drink langsyne, + Was sweeter far than honey, + Was stronger far than wine. + They brewed it and they drank it, + And lay in blessed swound + For days and days together, + In their dwellings underground. + +When he had thought with his eyes shut, the Pict said that he could not +tell the secret while his son lived, because of the shame he would feel +that his own flesh and blood should know him a traitor. He said this +because he believed they would kill the boy quickly without torture; and +the old man was right, for they bound his son hand and foot, and flung +him out to sea. "Now tell us the secret," they said. But the Pict only +laughed and answered, "Now I will not tell, because there is nothing +more you can do to hurt me." So they killed him quickly too, in their +rage, and the secret of the heather ale died with him. + +Though he liked the story, the obstinate man argued that the last of the +Picts were not really killed in this or any other way; that they had +slowly died out as a race, and had married with the Scots, leaving a +strain of their blood in the land to this day. "You know," he said, +"that Somerled of the Isles married a Pictish princess, and so there's +Pictish blood in the veins of the MacDonalds, in your veins and in mine, +though I'm of cottage birth, and you are of the castle." + +"I know that story of Somerled," I answered, "and how, hero though he +was, he got his princess by a fraud. It makes Kim seem more human." + +"I wonder if his princess thought so?" said Somerled the Second. + +"Why, of course she did," I answered him as if I were in her confidence. + +When I was in Carlisle, and proud of my English birth, I used to like +reading about the great battle of the Solway Moss, where two hundred +English horsemen killed or took prisoners more than a thousand Scots +they'd chased into the bog; but now I've forgotten everything except +that I'm a Scottish lass; and though I'm of the Highlands, and these +were Lowland men, I don't, as I did, love to dwell upon the raid of the +Solway Moss. Still, I could not get it out of my head, and while I +pictured it, as I have to do most things, whether I wish or no, I saw a +bridge--a fine stone bridge, flung like the span of a petrified rainbow +across a small stream. + +"That must be the Sark!" I gasped. "And we've come--we've come to the +border!" + +"Good lass, to divine it!" said he. And how I liked his calling me a +good lass--it was better than princess! + +We crossed the bridge slowly, lingering with half the car in England, +half in Scotland; then suddenly we sprang on gayly, with a rush ahead, +past the famous toll-house, which looked exactly like all its pictures. + +"Ho for Scotland--our ain countree!" I cried; and though he did not turn +to me, I saw his profile looking flushed and glad. + +"Now you should take back your own name of MacDonald again, from this +very minute of crossing the border," I said, when I had drawn in my +first long breath of Scotland. "Somerled's a grand name, yet it was only +the foundation of MacDonald. But I forgot! You've made your fame and +money as Somerled. Which do you love more--your Scottish blood or your +American fame and fortune?" + +"Blood is stronger than water, and fame is running water," he said. "As +for the money, I've cared too much for it--at least for the power it +gave me. I didn't make the most of it with my pictures, and greed led me +to love it better than my true work. That's why I lost the way to +fairyland, little Princess. I buried myself under the 'shields and +bracelets,' and I buried my talents, such as they were. For a while +Somerled tried to deserve the great name he had chosen--but only for a +little while. When by accident he grew rich, he began to wallow. Not a +picture worthy of his boyish ambition has he painted for five years. +What he has done have been 'potboilers.' He forgot that he was an +artist, and wanted only to be a millionaire. Disgusting! Now that I've +told you this, do you--a MacDonald--bid me to take the name again at the +border, where, as a boy, I laid it down--long ago, with high hopes and +vows romantic enough to please even you?" + +"Yes," I said, "I, a MacDonald, bid you to take up the name, and with it +all the old hopes and the old ambitions, as you come back into your own +land. Forget your silly money, and remember only that you're an artist +in a lovely motor-car. Won't _that_ make you happy--and a boy again?" + +"Something is making me happy--and a boy again," he echoed. + + + + +IV + + +Any dull body who says that the minute you're over the border everything +is not changed, can have no eyes--nor nose, because even the smell is +different. It is--I'm sure it is--the adorable smell of peat. I have +never yet smelt peat, but this is like my dreams. + +Oh, how beautiful everything was as we crossed the span of the stone +rainbow! A fresh wind had sprung up and out of the brilliant sunshine a +shower was spurting, like diamonds set in gold. I saw the dazzling sight +with eyes full of rain and curls. + +"Here we'll find the rainbow key--on _this_ side the bridge, in the +keeping of the Border Saints or Wizards," said I; for the hills and +lowlands that rolled away to the making of Scotland had a colour as if +stained with the fadeless, dried rainbows of centuries. Mingled with +peat was the tea-rose scent of summer rain and of running water, which +is as the fragrance of fresh-cut melons. Clouds like huge white brooms +swept the sky, and surging suddenly round us was a wave of sheep, +charming, reserved, Scottish sheep with ears of a different shape from +the English kind, like those of exaggerated rabbits. They looked at us +with horizontal eyes of pale brass cut across with narrow slits of jet, +and their thick wool, wet with rain, sparkled as if encrusted with +diamond dust. With them was a collie, much collie-er than English +collies, with a pawky Scottish smile. Not that I know what pawky means, +but it seems a word I ought to use at once, now we are on Scottish soil. + +Nobody need tell me that the first houses of Scotland have any +resemblance to the last houses of England. Maybe the country hasn't had +time to change much, just in crossing the bridge. I won't argue about +that. But the houses are as different from English houses as Scotsmen +are from Englishmen. Could you ever mistake a Scot for an un-Scot? No! +Our wide-apart eyes and our dreamy yet practical expression, our high +cheekbones, our sensitive, clear-cut nostrils, and the something +mysterious in our gaze which no one can explain or understand, not even +ourselves, is all our own. I have just found this out since crossing the +border. And am I not a MacDonald of Dhrum? + +I can't say that the first Scots I met--men, women, or children--looked +like descendants of the robber hordes who used to make the Borderland +their home; yet I paid them the compliment to believe they were such. +And you never would dream that the great-great-grandchildren of raiders +could have built for themselves the mild, solid, self-respecting houses +these people have dotted along the road where King Arthur passed, and +where some of the most romantic battles of history have been fought. But +so it is. And there the houses are. The people have found a kind of +stone to build them with, which looks like pressed roses; and there are +door-stones and even gate-stones of such an incredible cleanness, that +some women must devote their whole lives to their service, as nuns do to +prayer. + +Soon we came to the village and the post-office of Gretna Green, +bristling with picture post cards. There was the expected group of +whitewashed, one-story houses plastered with exciting notices: "Old +Priests' Relics," "Marriage Registers Kept," and delightful things like +that. So far, the scene was just what I'd imagined; but there was one +feature in the picture which made me feel I must be dreaming, it was so +surprising and extraordinary. + +In front of the Blacksmith's Shop stood the quaintest vehicle out of a +museum. It was an antique chaise such as no one in the last five +generations can have seen except in an illustrated book, or an old +coloured print. Two handsome gray horses were harnessed to it, looking +quite embarrassed, as if they hated being made conspicuous, and hoped +that they might not be recognized by their smart acquaintances. As we +came gliding past, they turned away their faces, lest our +motor--christened by me Gray Dragon--should regard them with contempt. +By the horses' heads stood a gorgeous, grinning man, dressed in livery +such as postilions may have worn a hundred years ago. Talking to him was +a blacksmith of the same remote epoch, with knee-breeches showing under +a leather apron, a great hammer in his hand, and on his head a high, +broad-brimmed beaver hat balanced on a white wig. Not far off were two +men in modern clothes; and they were placing in position some kind of a +photographic camera. + +When they saw that we meant to stop at the Blacksmith's Shop, they +brightened up, and seemed as much interested as if they had never before +seen an automobile. + +"They're going to take photographs of a Gretna Green wedding of ancient +times, for a biograph show, evidently," said Sir Somerled MacDonald, and +quickly explained to the late prisoner of the glass retort the nature of +a biograph. "Rather a good idea that! Apparently they're waiting for +their chief characters, the bride and groom." + +He was helping Mrs. James to get down from the car, and I had already +jumped out, for, of course, we wanted to visit the old house, and see +everything there was to see, in the place where Shelley (maybe!) and +hundreds of other famous people have been married. But before going in, +we lingered to stare at the chaise, which was rather like an immense +bathtub, the kind we used at Hillard House, where Grandma would have no +such new-fangled innovation as a bathroom. As we stood there, one of the +men with the camera came up, hovered undecidedly, and then said, with a +cough to draw attention to himself: "Excuse me, sir, but will you pardon +the liberty of my asking if you and the young lady will oblige us with a +great favour?" + +Sir Somerled frowned slightly, with his millionaire manner, which is not +so nice as the other. "What is the favour?" he inquired. + +"Why, sir," the man explained, "we're in a bit of a hole. You can see +we're here to reconstruct a runaway wedding for a cinema show. We +represent the North British Biograph Company, and we've been to a lot of +trouble and expense to get our props together. Pretty soon the father's +coach will be along, and we've got all we want except the two principal +figures. The bride and groom we engaged have failed to turn up. We can't +make out what's happened, but they ain't here, and we've searched the +neighbourhood without finding anything we can do with in their place. +The light's just right now, after the flurry o' rain, but by the look o' +the sky it won't last; and altogether it seems as if we'd have our +trouble for our pains unless you and the young lady'd consent to help us +out. If you'll allow me to say so, sir, in costume you'd be the Ideal +Thing." + +For an instant Sir S. looked as haughty as a dethroned king. Then the +funny side struck him, and he laughed. "You flatter us," he said; "but +I'm sorry we can't do what you ask. Perhaps your people will turn up, +after all." + +The poor man looked bitterly disappointed, almost as if he would cry, +and so did the other, who had been listening with enormously large red +ears like handles on a terra-cotta urn. Both men were wet with the rain, +which had fallen sharply and only just stopped as if to welcome us over +the border. The one who had spoken turned sadly away, without venturing +to urge his point (Sir S. isn't the sort of person strange men would +take liberties with), but in retreating he threw one agonized look at +me. I couldn't resist it. + +"Oh, _do_ let's stand for the bride and groom!" I pleaded. And +foreseeing a battle the photographer hastily retired into the background +to let us fight it out. "It would be such fun. I should love it. You +know, I've always vowed to be married at Gretna Green, if at all. And +this would be next best to the real thing." + +I gazed up at Sir S. as enticingly as I knew how, and there was a look +in his eyes that frightened me a little. I was afraid I had made him +angry; yet it wasn't a look of crossness. I could not tell what it +meant, but his voice in answering sounded kind. As usual, when he has +been particularly grave, he smiled that nice smile which begins in his +eyes and suddenly lights up his face. + +"You'd better wait for the 'real thing' and the real man," said he. "Be +patient for a few years. You've plenty of time." + +"I may _never_ get another such good chance," I mourned. "You _are_ +unkind! It would amuse me so much, and it wouldn't hurt you." + +"Do you think that's why I say no?" he asked. "You think I'm afraid?" + +"Yes, I do," I insisted. "You're too proud to do what will make you look +silly--because you're the great Somerled." + +"By Jove!" he said, and his face flushed up. "If you say much more I +will do it--and hang everything!" + +"I _do_ say much more!" I cried. "_Much_ more--and hang everything." + +"Very well, then," said he. "Your blood be on your own head." + +"My head's red enough already!" I giggled. "Oh, what fun! You are good, +after all." + +"_Am_ I good, Mrs. James, or am I bad?" he asked, turning for the first +time to her, as if he were half inclined to change his mind. But she +only smiled. "I can't see that there's any real harm," said she. "It +does seem a pity that these poor people should have come all this way +and spent all this money for nothing, don't you think so?" + +"I wasn't thinking of them. I was thinking of Miss MacDonald." + +"I'm thinking of her too," answered Mrs. James, as seriously as if she +were deciding something important. "If you don't mind on your _own_ +account, why----" + +He laughed. "Oh, as to _that_!----Well, come along, Miss MacDonald----" + +"Barrie," I reminded him. + +"Barrie! On with our wedding toggery, and let's be quick, if we don't +want an audience." + +He called the photographer rather sharply, and put him out of his +suspense. "You must thank the ladies' kind hearts," he said. "They can't +bear to have your scheme end in smoke. Tell us what you want us to do, +and we'll do it--anything in reason. But you mustn't expect the bride to +show her face. She must keep it turned aside." + +"That'll be all right," said the man, "though, of course, we should have +preferred----But after your great kindness we mustn't ask too much----" + +"Certainly you must not," Sir S. caught him up. And then the other +photographer, who had darted across the road to the chaise on hearing +the good news, opened a bundle that lay on the seat, and hauled out the +contents. + +Mrs. James began to be interested in the game, and the people who lived +in the houses were delighted that they were not to lose their hoped-for +excitement. Luckily, as it was lunching-time for most travellers, the +road was empty, and it seemed likely that we might finish our play +without spectators. The only moving things in sight at the moment, +except our own group, were one cat, two dogs, and a vehicle even more +quaint than the chaise in front of the Blacksmith's Shop. It was a coach +like Cinderella's, though not so pumpkiny. It was drawn by two nice +brown horses who might have begun life as rats. On one rode a postilion, +and out of a window leaned an old man in a tall hat and a brown coat +with brass buttons and a high velvet collar and ruffles at the wrist. +His hair was powdered, and he wore a white stock wound round his throat. +If we had met him on the road, without an explanation, we should have +thought that we had gone mad, or had seen a ghost; but now we knew him +for the bride's angry parent pursuing her relentlessly with a coach and +pair. It did sound odd to hear this fine old English aristocrat bawl out +in a common voice, "Ain't ye ready yet--what?" + +One of the photographers ran along the road and explained and +gesticulated. The coach stopped at a distance. I flew into the +Blacksmith's Shop to put on my wedding things, and Sir S. disappeared +next door with clothes under one arm and a hat under the other. I should +think no bride and bridegroom ever dressed in such a scramble. + +Mrs. James, dimpling and fussing, hustled me into a green brocade gown +which smelt of moth powder, and was so big that it went on easily over +my frock. Then came a purple silk cloak with wide flowing sleeves and a +romantic hood. One of the photograph men stood by to direct us; and when +Mrs. James was putting the hood over my head, he stopped her. "Madam, if +I might ask the young lady to take the pins out of her hair," he begged, +quite red with eagerness, "we shall get a great dramatic effect if it +tumbles down with the pulling back of the hood, just as her lover helps +her out of the chaise." + +Her lover indeed! Sir S. would have glowered; but I laughed, and out +came the hairpins, for the good of the game. I have always had to "make +believe" all alone, so it was extra fun having such a grand playfellow +as Sir Somerled--whether he liked it or not. And I determined that I +would _make_ him like it! I wanted him to play properly, and not be +stiff and disagreeable and grown up. He was ready before I was, and +waiting; for it took a little while stuffing all my hair safely into the +hood, and practising how to let it fall at the right moment. I hadn't +quite realized that my playmate was really handsome, in his dark, proud +way, till I saw him in a wavy brown wig with a ribbon-tied queue, a +broad-brimmed hat that sat dashingly on one side, shadowing his face; a +blue overcoat with a cape, and high boots drawn up to his knees. He +looked so splendid, and so young that suddenly my heart beat as if I +were really and truly in love. + +"If you should look at yourself in the glass," I said, feeling shy, yet, +wishing him to know that he was nice, "you'd never say again that you've +outgrown romance. No one would suspect you of being anything so dull as +a millionaire. You ought to paint your own portrait in that costume." + +"Thanks," said he, "I'd rather do you in yours." But I think he was +pleased. + +The photographer and the postilion both came forward to help, but Sir +Somerled wouldn't let his bride be touched by them. He handed me into +the chaise himself, and sat down by my side. Off trotted our horses to a +little distance, and turned round again. The show was ready to begin. + +Meanwhile, the others had been busy. They'd placed an anvil, real or +imitation, on the green in front of the house, for the pictures were all +to be taken out of doors. The blacksmith had begun to hammer away at a +horse-shoe, and that was our signal to dash up to the door. He stopped +hammering, pushed back his hat, and greeted us in pantomime. Sir +Somerled, playing his part well since it must be played, swung me out of +the chaise with an arm round my waist. Down fell my hood and my hair, +blowing round his face and hiding mine. He kissed my hand as the +blacksmith ran off into the house to get his book; and by this time I +was almost as wildly excited as if we had eloped. The camera was +grinding out photographs of everything that happened, no doubt, but just +then I forgot all about it, or that any one was looking at us. We +clasped hands over the anvil, Sir Somerled and I. As the blacksmith made +the motions of marrying us in haste, I looked across at my playfellow, +and at the same instant my playfellow looked across at me. I wanted him +to smile, and he would not! "Please _pretend_ you're delighted to marry +me," I mumbled. "Can't you see by my face how glad I am to get _you_?" + +"So should I be to get you, if I were the fairy prince," said he, in so +kind a voice it was a pity the biograph couldn't snap it. I squeezed his +hand to thank him for playing up to me, and he squeezed mine to show +that he understood. I felt suddenly that we were the best and truest of +friends. Even meeting my mother can't make up for losing him out of my +life, though he has been in it such a short time, and strayed in only by +accident. + +Whole we stood hand in hand, along came the red coach. Out leaped the +father, as the postilion drew his horses up, and the bride sought refuge +in the bridegroom's arms. It did seem real, and exciting! + +"Too late! We're married," said I. But even that was not the end of the +play. The father had to threaten the bridegroom with his pistol, and the +bride had to throw herself between the two men. I can see now what fun +actresses have. I was quite sorry when it was all over and the biograph +men were packing up to go. + +"We don't know how to thank you enough, miss," said the one who appeared +to be the leader, "for persuading the gentleman. If you'll give us your +address we'll send you reduced copies of the series of pictures." + +An address! I didn't know what to answer, for at present I possess no +such thing, though I thought it would sound queer to say so. I looked +for Sir Somerled, but he had walked away down the road to our motor, +which was hiding from the camera. His back was turned to me, but I could +see that his suit-case had been taken down from its place, and he was +putting something in it. + +"I don't know whether I ought to mention this, miss," said the biograph +man, "but you might be interested to know that the gentleman has bought +the costume you wore in the wedding-scene, and paid a good price for it. +That's what he's packing away now, I presume." + +"Oh! And did he buy his own costume, too?" I asked. + +"No, miss, only yours. I thought you might like to know." + +I did like to know. And I supposed that Sir S. would tell me all about +it when he came back, explaining that he'd got the things for a model to +wear in some picture; but not a word did he say--which puzzled me so +much that all the sight-seeing inside the Blacksmith's Shop could not +take my mind off the mystery. + +I sat in one of the marriage chairs, and looked at the pictures of the +old priests, and read about the many famous runaway couples since 1754, +beginning with Penelope Smith, the prettiest girl of Exeter, who married +Prince Charles of Bourbon, brother to the King of Naples. But all the +time I was thinking hard about myself and Mr. Somerled, and wondering +why he had secretly bought the wedding-dress. + +The guardian of the house made us write our names in the visitors' book, +which Mrs. James thought exactly like signing the register at a proper +marrying. And I said, "If nobody ever asks me to be his real wife, I +shan't be as badly off as other old maids, because, whatever happens, I +have had my wedding--a wedding at Gretna Green!" + + + + +V + + +We had a bridal sort of luncheon in the car, which was shunted off the +highway into a green shadowed road abandoned to summer dreams. Mrs. +James and I were like the flowers of the field, and had given no thought +to food, or where or how we were to get it. We supposed vaguely that +when we grew hungry we should stop at some inn and eat; but Sir Somerled +had a surprise in the shape of an American invention called a +refrigerator basket, nickel-lined, with an ice compartment walled in +with asbestos or something scientific. He said that it had been a +present, and he'd promised to bring it with him on this Scottish trip, +which it appears he was ordered to take as a rest cure. On the lid of +the basket, in a conspicuous place, is a silver plate, saying, in +beautiful old English letters, "To Ian Somerled, from his grateful +model," and underneath a monogram "M. M." in the raised heart of an +elaborate marguerite. As we ate ice-cold chicken, salad, and chilled +wild strawberries of the north, Mrs. James began with a gay perkiness to +tease Sir S. about the "grateful model," whose name must surely be +Marguerite; but I put a stop to that. The hour after a wedding at Gretna +Green is no tune for talk of any woman-thing except the bride; and as I +may perhaps never be anybody's real bride, I insisted on my rights. This +carrying on of the Gretna Green game rather scandalized good Mrs. James, +but when she scolded me gently for my "childishness," Sir S. said, "Do +let her be a child as long as she can. It would be well for every one of +us if we kept something of our childhood all our lives. Just now I'm +finding childhood gloriously contagious. I don't know how many years +I've thrown off in two days' time, since this child princess commanded +me to play with her." + +This nipped the scolding in its bud (not that I minded it), but I'm sure +dear Mrs. James still thought my bride-game had been played too long, +and she switched the conversation to the real romances of Gretna +Green--so breathlessly thrilling, some of them, that I was ashamed to +hark back to the subject of ourselves. Not that Sir S. wouldn't make a +hero for my romance. I feel that under his quiet, sometimes tired +manner, there's a hidden fire, and I want to find out what he is really +like, if I can. The study of such a man will be more interesting and +even more mysterious than peeping through the keyhole of the garret +door, into what I used to call "fairyland." Already that seems long ago. + +No one would guess, who had only seen Mrs. James with Grandma, how much +the little woman knows, or how nicely she can talk, and I blurted this +thought out, before I stopped to reflect that it might sound rude. An +hour passed like five minutes in listening to her story of the Lord +Chancellor's wedding at Gretna, and Lord Westmorland's shooting of +Banker Child's horse, to save his young bride from capture by her +father; the tale of Robert Burns almost inveigled into marriage by a +pretty girl he met on the road; and best of all the exciting history of +the brave lass of Langholm, who ran through brooks and bushes to snatch +her lover at the last minute from a rival he was marrying in the +Blacksmith's Shop. This last anecdote had been "the doctor's" favourite. +One chapter of his history was devoted entirely to the Old Glasgow Road. +In it he gave three whole pages to the young man's bet and the two +lassies who were ready to help him win it. "The doctor was romantic at +heart," explained Mrs. James, sighing, and pausing with an ice-cold +chocolate eclair in her hand. "All romance appealed to his imagination, +and in his notes he gave much space to Gretna Green, from the day of +Paisley, the first priest, up to the present time, when couples marry in +the Blacksmith's Shop in fun and not in fear. But," she went on, anxious +to impress the great Somerled, "Doctor James gave space in plenty to the +serious history of the Road: the Raider episodes; the journey of Queen +Mary; the march of Prince Charlie's Highlanders in charge of +Cumberland's soldiers, on their way to prison at Carlisle; the tramping +of many penniless Scottish geniuses seeking their fortune in London +town; the visits of famous men like Scott and Dickens, and Edward Irving +the preacher, who made his bride get down from her carriage on the +bridge, and walk on foot into her adopted country, England." + +Mrs. James always grows excited when she talks about the doctor and his +unfinished history of Scotland; and though she'd known Sir S. only a day +and a half, she was mesmerized into telling him secrets Grandma couldn't +have dragged from her with wild horses. She even showed him Doctor +James's photograph, which, in a shut-up velvet case, she had put into +the handbag Sir S. gave her. "Do _you_, an artist, with your great +knowledge of human faces and the souls behind them, believe a man with +those eyes and that forehead would take his own life to escape scandal?" +she appealed to him. "Wouldn't it be more natural to disappear, trusting +to his wife's faith, until he had made a new career somewhere and won +back the honour of his name?" + +Very gravely Sir S. examined the photograph, which she had painted in +water colours, rather faded now; and I looked at it, though I've seen it +before. Apparently he was sincerely interested in her story, and in the +picture. But then he seems interested always, in a quiet way, in what +people tell him, never interrupting or talking of himself and his +affairs, as Grandma does if any one comes to see her. "You are right, +Mrs. James," he said. "That man is a dreamer, but not a coward. He might +do strange things, but never a contemptible one." + +"Oh, what a judge of character!" she breathed ecstatically. "And how +sympathetic! It's wonderful, in the busy, flattered life you must have +led for many years, how you've kept your kind heart and generous thought +for others. But it's your artistic temperament!" + +The great Somerled laughed and looked embarrassed. "My enemies say that +my 'artistic temperament' has been swamped long ago by my love of +money-making and getting difficult things to turn my way. I think the +enemies are probably right; but you and this princess would dig up any +decent qualities a man might have left, no matter how deep they were +buried under rubbish." + +"How do we dig them up?" I wanted to know. + +"By being children--both of you--in your different ways." + +Then he gave Mrs. James back the faded photograph, with a few more +compliments on the doctor's eyes and the shape of his forehead. It was +time to be starting on, but the grateful dear would not accept his offer +of help in clearing up. She sent me away with him down the road to +gather a bunch of bluebells, azure as a handful of sky, to put into our +hanging vase--my first Scotch bluebells. And as soon as we were well +away, he began asking questions about Doctor James, which showed that he +really cared. What was his first name? How old was he when he +disappeared? And how long ago was that? + +"His Christian name was Richard," said I. "It was seventeen years ago +that he disappeared--or died. And he must have been twenty-nine then, +because Heppie says he was too young for Mrs. James--only a year older +than she--which would make him forty-six now." + +"You mustn't give her away like that," Sir Somerled reproached me. "I +should have guessed her seven or eight years younger." + +"Ah, that's the massage and the skin food and neck exercises," said I, +wisely. "She _will_ be pleased when I tell her what a success you think +they are." + +"She'll be much more pleased if you don't tell her you've mentioned +them, and I strongly advise you not to. Do you happen to know whether +Doctor James had a scar on the left temple?" + +"Yes," I eagerly answered. "She's told me about it. That's why he turned +the right side of his face to be photographed. But why? Did you ever +come to Carlisle and see him before you sailed for America as a boy?" + +"I came to Carlisle. I may have seen him," Sir S. replied. "But say +nothing to Mrs. James about this conversation of ours. Some time, +perhaps, I may tell you why. If not, it's not worth remembering. And +now, I see she's got everything ready, and is waiting for us. So is +Vedder. The car's had a good drink of petrol, and we can be off--for a +sight of Carlyle's country. Will that bore you?" He looked at me almost +anxiously, as if something depended on my answer. + +"Bore me? Oh, no: I shall love to go there," I assured him. + +"Why? What do you know of Carlyle?" + +"Not much," I had to confess, "But there were three books of his my +father had, which I've read. And there's a picture of him still in the +library." + +"Which books? What picture?" + +"'The French Revolution,' and 'Hero Worship,' and 'Sartor Resartus,' It +was that last one I read first. I took it off the shelf because it had +such a queer name. I wanted to find out what it meant. Don't you always +desperately want to find out what everything means? I do. But I suppose +you know everything by now. Well, I began to read without being so very +much interested. Then, suddenly, my mind seemed to wake up. It was a +wonderful feeling, just as if I stood near to a man who was playing +marvellous and startling music on the grandest organ ever made. And the +man who played could sing too. He sang in a voice sometimes harsh and +sometimes sweet. It seemed to me as I read the book that it was humorous +and sad, tender and stern at the same time. And till the very end I was +carried along on the wave of that organ music, which had in it always a +thrill of the divine. I never found any other book in the library that +made me feel exactly like that, except Shakespeare--and Grandma had all +the Shakespeare volumes carted off to the garret after she came in one +day when I was eleven, and found me reading 'Macbeth.' As for the +picture of Carlyle, it shows him, sitting in a chair, with a look on his +face of a sad man alone in a gray world." + +"Whistler's portrait! You shall have all Carlyle's works and +Shakespeare's for your own. I'll give them to you," said Sir Somerled, +looking at me with an interested look, as if suddenly he liked me better +than he had before. + +"Oh, you _are_ good, and I should love to have them," I said. "But now +there'll be my mother I shall have to ask permission of for everything. +I must do just what she wants me to do, for I shall die if she doesn't +love me." + +"Yes. I'd forgotten," said he. + +"I hadn't, for a minute," I answered. "But I suppose, as mother is a +great actress, she loves Shakespeare and has all his works; and perhaps +she has Carlyle, too, in her library." + +"Perhaps," he echoed. + +"Don't you like her?" I asked. "You always look odd, and speak in a +short, snappy way when I talk of my mother." + +"I like and admire her immensely," he answered, in that remote tone +which tries to frighten me, and does almost--but not quite. "All the +same, I don't think you'll find Carlyle in her library, so you'll have +to let me give him to you. But meanwhile, you shall learn to understand +him better by seeing the little village where he was born, and the house +his father the stonemason built." + +So we started off in the car, going back to the highway and along a road +which perhaps would not have seemed extraordinary if it hadn't been made +surpassingly beautiful by men who lit the path of history with a shining +light. I had a gay, irresponsible feeling, sitting beside Sir S. on the +springy front seat of the luxurious motor-car, as if I were a neat +little parcel clearly addressed to my destination, and going there +safely by registered post. By this time even Mrs. James had ceased to +"bite her heart" when she saw another motor dashing toward us, or a man +sauntering across the road and filling the whole horizon. The car is so +singularly intelligent that you feel it is a friend, too kind-hearted +and chivalrous a creature to let anything bad happen. Of course, about +every ten minutes something _almost_ happens, but that is invariably the +fault of other people's cars. You dash up to the mouth of a cross-road +which you couldn't possibly have seen, because it is subtly disguised as +a clump of trees or a flowery knoll; and you discover its true identity +only because another motor--a blundering brute of a motor--bursts out at +fifty miles an hour in front of your nose. If you'd reached that point +an instant later, your own virtuous automobile and the wretch that isn't +yours would certainly have telescoped, and you'd have been sitting in +the nearest tree with your head in your lap. But already I begin to +notice that you may pretty well count on reaching the danger point +(produced by alien autos) at precisely the right instant, never the +wrong one, and this gives you a beautiful confidence in your luck and +your driver: although the real secret must lie in the acuteness of your +guardian angel or patron saint. Vedder, who when young was a champion +boxer, is very superstitious, and Mr. Somerled allows him a large gold +medal of St. Christopher on the dashboard. St. Christopher, it seems, +has undertaken the spiritual care of motor-cars, and as by this time he +has millions under his guidance, his plans for keeping them out of each +other's way must be as complicated as the traffic arrangements of a +railway superintendent. When I contrasted the angelic behaviour of our +car with the appalling perversity of other people's, Sir S. burst out +laughing, and said that evidently I was born with the motor instinct: +that he'd seen women who took days or weeks learning these great truths, +whereas I came by them naturally. "It's remarkable what a lot of +valuable knowledge can be picked up by an enterprising princess in a +glass retort, when the dragon isn't looking!" said he. + +"Princesses in glass retorts are perhaps forced to learn lessons tabooed +by dragons," I replied to this; "so if I know things or have thought +things that every other girl doesn't think or know, it's because they +were forbidden fruit. They were my only fun." + +"They've made you a splendid little 'pal,' if you know what that means," +said he. "I'm not sure the glass-retort system hasn't some advantages +for the bringing up of women. The proverb is that truth lies at the +bottom of a well. I begin to think it may be looked for in glass retorts +in the land of dragons." + +"You mean that I'm truthful?" I asked. + +"Yes. I'm inclined to believe, up to date, that you've remained as +transparent as the glass of your late prison." + +"What makes you think so?" I wanted to know. + +"Observation--partly. And the way you talk to me." + +"What way?" + +"Well--that's a knotty question. I can hardly explain, but----" + +"I wonder," I began to think out aloud, "whether you mean that I say +what comes into my mind without being afraid you mayn't like it?" + +"Er--um--perhaps that covers a good deal of the ground. But what put the +idea into your head? Why should you be afraid of me?" + +"I'm not. Only--I've thought that it would be more respectful if I were. +You are so celebrated, you see. That's the first thing I heard about +you--I mean, about your being such a famous artist. I heard you were +rich too, but of course that didn't interest me so much." + +"No? That proves the benefit of the glass-retort system." + +"Why--how, please?" + +"Because princesses who haven't been bottled up in them, but have lived +in the lap of luxury--and in the laps of luxurious mothers--understand +the value of money, and consider men famed for their millions worth a +dozen who've wrapped themselves up in a few rags of some lesser kind of +fame." + +"You call being a great artist a lesser kind of fame?" + +"I didn't once. But since I've got into the money-making habit, I've +accepted the world's opinion." + +"Pooh!" said I rudely. "I don't believe you have, because the first +minute I saw you, I felt sure you were a _real_ man. That's why I just +had to speak to you in the station, instead of one of the others. I +knew--by instinct, I suppose, as you say I know about motors. Think of +the glory of being able to _create_ beautiful things!" + +"Think of being able to buy them! Jewels and castles and yachts, and all +sorts of things that women love. Motor-cars for instance." + +"You could buy motor-cars with money you earned by painting pictures, +couldn't you?" + +"Yes; but not castles or yachts: and not enough jewels to please +princesses who haven't spent eighteen years in a glass retort." + +"Well," I said, "I may be no judge, but I think jewels and castles would +be a bother, and I should be seasick in yachts. Give me a man who brings +beautiful things out of his soul, not out of his pockets. You're very +nice now; but you must have been much nicer before you buried your +talents under the shields and bracelets you told me about. Even I know +what you mean by them--and what happened to Tarpeia." + +"_Even_ you! I begin to think you were born knowing about a good many +things besides motor-cars. And you are entirely right. I was much nicer +before I began to collect the shields and bracelets." + +"Can't you give a lot of them away, and do what I said--go back to the +time before you bargained for them?" + +"You don't understand how difficult it is to go back." + +"But you are back--in Scotland." + +"You're right. Now's my one chance to return to my youth and ideals. +Bright little Princess, thank you for polishing up the dulled surface of +my soul." + +"It's only the surface that needs polishing," said I. "The inside part +is shining, even when the outside looks dim. But I'm afraid you're +making fun of me?" + +"I was never more in earnest. I'm crossing more than one border with you +to-day." + +"Borders you like crossing?" + +"Great heavens, yes!" + +"I'm glad of that," said I, in a self-satisfied way, "for then you won't +miss Mrs. West so much." + +"Miss Mrs. West? Good Lord, I'd forgotten her!" + +"That's very ungrateful and horrid of you, then," I scolded him, +"because you and she were friends, and she knows how to be perfectly +charming." + +"Yes. She knows how." + +"She knows just what to do and say." + +"Yes. She's an agreeable--and experienced--woman." + +"And if it hadn't been for me, she'd be sitting by you now." + +"I have little doubt of that." + +"And you would have been happy." + +"I should have been contented. There's a big difference between +contentment and happiness. You can't have learned it, yet." + +"Oh, can't I! It's all the difference between--between--well, the +difference between this borderland seen on a dark day and seen on a day +of sunshine. It's the same landscape, but it doesn't look the same to +the eyes or give the same feelings to the heart. The dark-day feelings +would be calm and quietly pleasant; the sunshine feelings would be full +of thrills and heartbeats--as to-day." + +"By Jove, you've hit it!" he exclaimed as if to please me by agreeing. +"Full of thrills and heartbeats--as to-day." + +"Then you _do_ feel the romance of everything in this sunshine?" I +asked, quick to drag a "yes" from him while he was in the mood. + +"I should say I did. And I'm not ashamed, with you to back me up. But +I've a sneaking idea I should have been ashamed of it with Mrs. West. +And I shouldn't have felt the thrills, only a calm, peaceful pleasure, +as in the gray days--contentment. I shouldn't have known what I was +missing, perhaps. I should have respected myself for outgrowing my +enthusiasms. But--in my best moments, Princess, I've pitied people more +for not knowing what they miss in life than for missing the things." + +"Yes," I answered, "because it's better to know there are beautiful +things, and to want them in vain, than grub along without knowing of +their existence. But all that's got nothing to do with Mrs. West." + +"Perhaps not. Yet it has something to do with me. No need to bother +about the connection." + +"I won't bother about anything!" I laughed in my joy of life and of +motoring, which seemed one and indivisible just then. "I'm wrapped up in +the magic golden web that Sir Walter Scott and Burns have woven round +every mile of this land across the border--_our_ land, yours and mine." + +"So am I, caught in the web, lost in it--to my own surprise." He laughed +as he drove, his eyes alert and young. "Burns, by the way, came to +Ecclefechan, where we're arriving now. He had an uproarious time, and +wrote verses to the Lass of Ecclefechan, which shows the place must have +been a good deal livelier then than now. Or else, which is as likely, he +had a faculty of squeezing the juice out of the driest, most unpromising +fruit--the same faculty you have." + +"Perhaps the fruit dried up later," I suggested. "Burns died soon after +Carlyle was born, didn't he? And maybe people began to be primmer when +they were forgetting his influence." + +"No. Those of us Scots who were meant to be dour were always dour," Sir. +S argued, "since the days of John Knox, and long before. It was partly +climate--partly persecution. Both agreed with our constitutions. But +look, here's the little house where one of the greatest geniuses who +ever saw the light in Scotland first opened his eyes. I dare say he +didn't get much light--but he spent most of his life in giving it to +other people, out of his own gloom. Wouldn't Burns have been interested, +passing that house (as he must have, in the 'uproarious time' at +Ecclefechan), if his prophetic soul had said, 'Here, in this little +dwelling as humble as your own birthplace, will be born a man as great +as you--and one of your keenest critics?'" + +I didn't answer, because no answer was needed, and because we were both +gazing hard at a small, whitewashed, double house made into one by an +archway joining the two parts together. Coming from Gretna Green it was +on our left in the midst of a gray and white village which would have +looked commonplace if it had not been framed by an immense sky. It was +as if this vast blue crystal case had been set down over Carlyle's +birthplace to protect and mark it out from other places. There was the +narrow, high-banked brook--"the gentle Kuhbach kindly gushing by" (as +Sir S. quoted)--which had made music in Carlyle's childish ears, to echo +through them all his life. Perhaps he paddled in the brook on hot summer +days, just as little boys were paddling when our Gray Dragon suddenly +broke the respectable silence of Ecclefechan; and I know that he must +have seen stormy sun-rises and fiery sunsets reflected in it as in a +mirror, just as the Lady of Shalott saw all the things that really +mattered passing in her looking-glass. + +It is the kind of village, and the gray or whitewashed houses with their +red door-sills are the kind of houses, where you would say, rushing +through in a motor, "Nothing can possibly happen." Yet Carlyle happened; +and he was an event for the whole world, which now makes pilgrimages to +his birthplace. And I think that when his memory travelled back to +Ecclefechan, he would not have changed it for a garden of palaces and +flowers and fountains. Even the wee bairns playing in the road where +Carlyle played, knew why we stopped our car. They pointed out the +Carlyle house, gazing at us in solemn pity because we were poor +tourist-bodies, who couldna bide the rest of our lives in the best +village in a' the wurlld. + +For my part, I pitied them, because their feet were bare, whereas the +poorest children in my native Carlisle have wonderfully nice shoes, +bound in brass. But all the Scot--and perhaps the crofter--rose in Sir +S. when I mourned over the little dusty feet. "Do you think they go +barefoot because they've no shoes?" he asked. "You're wrong. You don't +know your own country-folk yet. They've as good shoes as those Carlisle +kids, and better, maybe. It's because they don't like the feel of the +shoes when they play, and they're saving them for Sundays. I did the +same myself. Not a pair of shoes did I have on my feet, except on the +Sabbath day, till I was turned eleven." + +It seemed to me that suddenly he had quite a Scotch burr in his voice, +and I did like him for it! + +An apple-cheeked old body opened the door. On it was a brass plate which +would have told us, if we hadn't known already, that in this house +Thomas Carlyle was born. Remembering what he grew to be and to mean in +the big world, the three tiny rooms and the few simple relics were a +thousand times more pathetic than if we'd been led through apartment +after apartment of a palace, seeing christening cups and things under +glass cases. They did not seem sad to me, only a little dour in a +wholesome way, as porridge is dour compared to plum-cake. But the +cemetery which we went to after we had seen the house made me want to +cry. I didn't like to think that, coming back here to sleep after all +those many years, Carlyle had not his wife to rest beside him. Lying +with his ain folk behind grim iron railings couldn't have consoled him +for her absence. This is the only graveyard I ever saw except the one +where my father is buried; and somehow, it doesn't seem respectful to +the dead to go and criticise their graves, unless you are their friends, +bringing them flowers--pansies for thoughts and rosemary for +remembrance. It's like walking into people's houses and opening their +doors to look at them in bed when they're asleep, and can't resent your +intrusion, though they would hate it if they knew. I said this to Sir +S., and he partly agreed with me on principle; but he warned me that +there are cemeteries I must visit in Scotland unless I want to miss the +last volumes of several interesting human documents. I don't know +exactly what a human document is; still, I suppose I shall go to the +graveyards for the sake of finding out what he means. + +He spoke as if I were likely to go to these places with him, and said +that he would enjoy showing me Carlyle's house in Chelsea, which is +"more full of the man's heart and soul than Ecclefechan is." But, of +course, he said this without stopping to think. He will go back to +America and forget the forlorn little princess he happened to rescue +from a neighbouring dragon. Yet never mind, I shan't be forlorn after +this! I shall have my mother, and mothers are more important to +princesses than the most glittering knights. I shall, of course, travel +about with her wherever she goes, so I can never be lonely or sad. I +ought to be even more impatient than I am for the day to come when she +is due in Edinburgh, and I can surprise her there: but I suppose, having +lived without her so long, it is difficult to realize that I'm actually +to see her at last. However, I think of her every minute--or perhaps +every other minute; and I haven't fully realized until to-day how much +there is for which I have to thank her: the gayety and hopefulness she +must have kept in her heart, and handed down to me. Without gayety and +hopefulness neither of us would have dared or cared to run away from +Hillard House. + +I think, far-fetched as it seems, it was seeing Carlyle's birthplace, +and feeling the influence of his parents upon him, which made me +understand. Great genius as he was, I wonder if he might not have been +even greater if his mother or father had taught him that it was right to +be happy and wrong to be sad? Sir S. says that Jenny his wife could have +taught him all that, if he had chosen to learn; but he was grown up +then, and so it was too late. The sunshine must be in your blood when +you are a child, and then no shadows can ever quite darken the gold--or +at least, that is the thought which has come into my mind to-day. + +It was the right thing to turn southward off the Glasgow highway after +Ecclefechan, to go to Annan and see the place where Carlyle got his +schooling. The Gray Dragon, travelling slowly (for it, or "her," as Sir +S. and Vedder always say), came to the end of the journey in a few +minutes; but when Carlyle walked along that pleasant shadowy road, +carrying his school books, he must have had plenty of time for +day-dreams. Now and then he could have seen the Solway gleaming, and I +can imagine how the beautiful, winding river must have given that grave, +wise boy thoughts of the great river of life, running to and from +eternity. We passed close to Hoddam Hill, where--Sir S. and Mrs. James +told me--the Carlyle family lived for a while when Thomas was grown up, +he translating German romances, and his brother working on the farm. + +At Annan, looking at the statue of Carlyle's friend, Edward Irving, in +the broad High Street, we came back to the subject of Doctor James, and +I heard for the first time the real truth at the bottom of the bad +gossip. + +We had got down from the car to look at the statue, and read what it +said on the pedestal. We were not thinking at first about the doctor, +but only of Edward Irving, and Sir S. was saying to Mrs. James how Annan +was only one of many towns where statues are put up to the memory of men +once misunderstood and cruelly persecuted in the very place where they +are afterward honoured. It seems that Edward Irving (who loved Mrs. +Carlyle when she was Jenny Welsh) had to come back to his native town to +be tried for heresy by the presbytery, after a brilliant career in +London as a fashionable preacher and founder of a new faith. All the +theologians of Scotland and crowds of other people (Sir S. says all true +Scots are theologians at heart) came pouring into Annan by coach and +chaise on the great day of the trial; and in spite of Irving's +passionate appeal, he was found guilty by a unanimous vote. + +Talking of the trial, and of the preacher's death the next year, took +Mrs. James's mind to the subject which is never farther away than at the +back of her head. She found a likeness between Edward Irving's fate and +her husband's. "Richard was born in Carlisle and loved the place, but +they believed evil of him and persecuted him," she said. "Some day he +will come back and make Carlisle proud of her son. That's what I expect. +That's what I live for." And she gazed up at the statue of Irving the +preacher with quite the look of a prophetess in her eyes. + +I was afraid that Sir S. would think her mad; but he seemed interested, +as before, and asked if she had in her mind any particular kind of +success her husband might be working to obtain. Was there something, +apart from his profession, and the unfinished volume of history, which +had occupied the thoughts of Doctor James in old days? + +The little woman answered this question almost reluctantly, and I soon +guessed why. There was a serum which the doctor had been trying to +perfect. It was to be used instead of chloroform or ether, for people +with weak hearts, or when for other reasons anaesthetics were dangerous. +A patient in peril of death had begged Doctor James to try it upon him. +The doctor had consented. The patient had died, and though it was not +really because of the serum, but because the man couldn't possibly have +lived in any case, the doctor's enemies had blamed him. "That was what +broke his heart," Mrs. James explained, still staring at the statue with +wide-open eyes, to keep the tears from falling. "That is why he died to +the world which misjudged him." + +"And do you think, if he can perfect this serum, he will come back?" +asked Sir Somerled. + +"_When_, not 'if.' But I always knew it would take a long time, because +unless some rich person or people had faith and helped him, he would +have to get together a good deal of money for a laboratory before he +could make a great success or a great name. And he went away almost +without a penny." + +"I see," said Sir S., thoughtfully. "Well, such faith as yours is enough +to inspire a man with courage to push the stone of Sisyphus to the top +of the hill. And it deserves a high reward. I hope the reward may come, +and that I may see the day. Now, we must go on, for this afternoon won't +last as long as I could wish." + +He helped Mrs. James to her place with extra kindness, almost +tenderness, tucking behind her back the gray silk-covered air-cushion +which she says makes her feel she is leaning against a nice pudding. + +Neither of us had asked Sir S. what we were to see next, for we trusted +him to choose; but when we were ready to leave Annan and go back to the +high road, he said that the thought of Galloway was haunting him. "We +can spin on to Glasgow by way of Moffat and see a lot of interesting +places; or we can turn west from Carlyle country, for a run through +Crockett country," he explained. "Which, shall it be?" + +I was ashamed to confess that I didn't know why he called Galloway +"Crockett country"; but Mrs. James saw my sheepish look, and excused me. +"The child has had no novels to read later than Scott." + +"Crockett has done for Galloway what Scott did for Tweedside," said Sir +S. "It's his country. He has made it live. When I give this girl the +promised present of Carlyle and Shakespeare, I must add Crockett. That +is, as she reminded me"--and he smiled--"if Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald +allows Ian of that ilk to lay gifts at her daughter's feet." + +"Oh, she'll permit Barrie to accept books," said Mrs. James, with her +pretty primness. "How the child will love the 'Raiders,' and the 'Men of +the Moss Hags.' Yes, certainly she ought to see 'gray Galloway.'" + +"Galloway be it, then," said Sir S., looking pleased. "But it won't be +gray at this time of year. It will be purple and gold and emerald, and +silvered with rivers running between flowery banks. And it will smell +sweet as a Scotsman's paradise, with bog myrtle and peat." + +"I too have often wanted to see Galloway," said Mrs. James, "even before +I read the Crockett books; for the doctor devoted a particularly +interesting chapter to its history. I remember well, the ancient name +was most romantic: Gallgaidhel, for the country of the stranger Gaels. +That was the heading he gave his chapter, and I fear I did not know what +'stranger Gaels' meant until I read it. The Celtic Gaels who lived there +used to be called Atecott Picts; and though they were very independent +and wild, and the Romans didn't govern them long, they accepted the +Northumbrians as their overlords--oh, it must have been in the seventh +century, I think. And two hundred years later they made common cause +with the Vikings: so the other Gaels, who would have nothing to do with +the foreigners, scornfully named the men of Galloway 'stranger Gaels.'" + +"It was just jealousy, then!" said I. "Because the people of Galloway +were so broad-minded and hospitable, and ahead of their times. It's the +right country for strangers to visit first----" + +"But we're not strangers," Sir S. cut me short. "You and I, Barrie, are +coming into our own. To-night for the first time you'll sleep in your +ain countree, under the 'heather moon.'" + +"It ought to be a wonderful place, for our first night of the heather +moon," I said, half shutting my eyes--"a mysterious, beautiful, _lucky_ +place, to remember always. What shall it be? Have you decided on what is +appropriate?" + +"I'd thought of Dumfries," he said. "But it doesn't answer that +description, and though it's in Galloway, it concerns Burns and is out +of Crockett land. Still----" + +"Sweetheart Abbey!" Mrs. James exclaimed rapturously. "It should be at +Sweetheart Abbey that Barrie dreams her first Scottish dreams." + +The knight laughed rather bitterly for some reason. "Are Scottish dreams +different from other dreams?" + +"Perhaps," said Mrs. James, "they are the dreams that come true." + + + + +VI + + +It is days later, it seems a long time ago that I wrote of our plan to +spend the first night in Scotland at Sweetheart Abbey--a long time since +the night itself; for I have lived more in these few days than in all my +life before. + +Soon we are to reach Edinburgh. Monday is the day when my mother will +begin acting there in her new play. I shall see her. It is to be the +Great Day of all, the day to which all the others have been leading up, +and I ought to be perfectly happy. So I am! Still, there's one little +heavy spot in my heart. All the yeast of happiness won't make it light. +The beginning of the new means the end of the old. The trip will be +over--for me; though the Knight and the Gray Dragon will go on and have +hundreds of adventures without me. They will be my knight and my dragon +no longer. Perhaps I shall never see them again. + +Before our days together slip away into the background of my mind (it +seems as if they never could!) I want to write down things about them to +keep and read when I am _old_. + +First of all, there was Ruthwell Cross. + +We went there from Annan; and as we flew along in the car over a good +white road, we could see across widening waters the mountains of the +English Lake country floating like a mirage along the southern sky, +Skiddaw with its twin peaks higher and bluer than the rest. How I love +the names of the Cumberland places and mountains! I made Sir S. say +Helvellyn and Blencathra and Glaramara over very slowly, just for the +music in my ears. And when his voice says a thing it sounds particularly +well. I like to hear it roll out such a word as Northumberland, for +instance. The way he says it makes you think of thunder on great +moorlands, or a rush of wild Scotsmen over the border. But the Celtic +names he speaks most lovingly, most softly, so that they ring on your +ear for a long time after they are spoken, like an echo of fairy bells. + +I did not mean to write all this about him and his voice when I began. +There is so much else to say. Yet, somehow, I keep running back to him +in my thoughts, especially now the trip is nearly over. And while I +still cling to the subject, I have found out that he can sing as well as +paint. But the singing belongs to Sweetheart Abbey; and Ruthwell Cross +came before. + +Mrs. James and Sir S. excited my interest in Galloway by telling me bits +from the "Raiders," then stopping in exciting places to talk of +something else. And somehow Galloway does seem a country where almost +anything might happen--big, sensational, historic things. There was +nothing gray to see except glimpses of the Solway, where the sea poured +in its resistless tide; and that was the gray of polished silver. I had +an impression of high hills, blunt in shape yet strangely dignified, and +wide-spreading moors which sent out exquisite smells like lovely unseen +messengers to meet us, as the car seemed to break through crystal walls +of wind. Here and there were piles of pansy-brown peat, ready for +burning. Children with heads wrapped in scarlet flame ran out of +cottages to stare at us. Sir S. actually admired their red hair. He +exclaimed suddenly, "By Jove, it's worth crossing the ocean to see that +glorious stuff again! It's the hair of Circe." I don't know when +anything has made me feel so much like a kitten that purrs over a dish +of cream. For you know the hair he loved was _just_ my colour, not a bit +less scarlet. What would Grandma say? + +It rained once--sharp rain like thin daggers of glass stabbing our faces +as the car dashed through--and the wet road looked like a shining silver +ribbon flung down anyhow on purple velvet. The purple velvet was +heather, and I never saw any before we started on our trip, except a +little sad, tame heather in the garden of Hillard House--heather +moulting like a bird in a cage, with all the spirit of the moors gone +out of it. But this Galloway heather was real heather, the heather of +poetry; and I knew that by and by I was going to see the heather moon +rise over it. The very thought brought a thrill--and I was glad, as I +had it, that Mrs. West was somewhere else in her own car. She does so +damp you, somehow, in your high moments, and make you feel too young for +anybody to care for your crude little thrills or take them seriously. + +When the rain stopped, it left a thin white mist floating over the +heather, until the sun broke out and the deep purple was lit to crimson, +like a running fire. + +I'm not quite sure if all this happened before Ruthwell Church (called +Rivvel by the people near), but in my memory it is part of the same +picture, of that first day in Galloway. + +I know we skimmed through a little place called Cummer-trees, and then +Sir S. slowed down to show us, he said, one of the "sights of the +world." He had never seen it himself, but he knew all about it, and even +Mrs. James knew a little. It is a great advantage to a simple woman to +have had a clever husband, and feel obliged, to live up to him. + +We had come not so much for the church as for a wonderful stone cross +which it contains, as a jewel-box contains treasure of pearls and +diamonds. This cross is worth countless numbers of both; and it has a +history as intricate as its own strange carvings. + +In the manse they gave Sir S. the key of the small old church behind a +high wall with steps up and down: and once inside he led us straight to +the north end, where, in a side aisle, we saw a great shape rise. We +must have known it to be a marvel, even if we had heard nothing +beforehand. + +The cross used to stand, not in the church, but out in the open long +before the church was built, and it towered eighteen feet tall against +the sky. There it lived year after year, generation after generation, +and nobody knew what its carved birds and beasts and hieroglyphic +inscriptions meant. Nobody cared much, until a gloomy set of men in a +General Assembly, when Charles I was King of England, threw it down and +broke it up, because it was an idolatrous emblem. Luckily, some wise +person hid all the pieces in the church; but after a while another +person not so wise threw them out into the backyard. There they stayed +until a Doctor Duncan thought he would have the cross put up in his +manse garden: and some great Norwegian scholars, to whom he sent copies +of the writings, grew very excited, and contradicted each other about +them in 1802. But no one knew what the letters really meant till the +eldest son of the famous actor John Kemble came to the neighbourhood for +a holiday. He was a learned authority on Anglo-Saxon times, and he +discovered that the writing was really Early English, the very earliest +of all, the rudiments of the language which--as Sir S. expressed +it--"Chaucer helped to form and Shakespeare perfected"; because they had +to _make_ their words, as well as group them together--which is all that +lazy authors have to do nowadays. The quaint carvings relate to the life +of Christ and saints, and they are described in Latin from the Vulgate; +but it was the runic inscriptions which John Mitchell Kemble puzzled +out--a kind of rhymed soliloquy the cross itself was supposed to speak; +and afterward he found the whole thing in an Anglo-Saxon MS. of the +seventh or eighth century, far away from Scotland, in a library at +Vercelli, near Milan. But it was written by the Northumbrian bard +Caedmon, in a poem called "The Dream of the Holy Rood." + +No wonder Sir S. wished to see Ruthwell Cross. There's nothing else of +the kind, he thinks, so splendid anywhere. + +Even then my first wonderful day in Scotland wasn't over, for we had +time to see Caerlaverock Castle, which, according to Sir S., is another +of the best things on earth. I suppose, in old days, when the world was +small because it was difficult to travel great distances, it didn't seem +odd to find magnificent runic crosses, and castles, and historic +blacksmiths' shops, and houses of geniuses all standing cheek by jowl +within a step of each other. They had to be like that, or nobody from +the next county would ever have seen them: but now, especially to a +person who has seen nothing except in dreams, it is startling, almost +incredible. + +Caerlaverock, Mrs. James said, was probably Scott's Ellangowan in "Guy +Mannering"; so I shall read "Guy Mannering" as soon as I settle down to +live with my mother. We couldn't help getting a little mixed up with +Scott even here, at the gate of the Crockett country; and there were +traces of Burns too, because of our being near already to Dumfries, +where he lived for years and finally died. But the idea Sir S. had set +his heart upon was for us to come back to Dumfries after we had seen +Galloway and had run up to Burns's birthplace at Ayr. It would make each +part of the trip more "concrete," he said. + +Whether or no the stronghold of the Maxwells was Ellangowan, it was in +any case the key to southwest Scotland, and in looking at the place it +is easy to understand why. A great red-gold Key it was when we saw it, +red-gold in the western sunlight in a hollow near the river; such red +and gold colour as the old sandstone had, in contrast with the green of +lichen and green of waving grass, I wouldn't have believed in, if I'd +seen it in a picture. I should have said, "The artist who painted that +ruined castle put on the colours he would like to see, not those he did +see." But I should have misjudged him, because the colours were real. + +Once there was a double moat all round the vast, triangular castle, and +still there's water in one of them. You would have thought the Maxwell +ladies had thrown their rubies and diamonds into it one wild day when +they were escaping from enemies, and that the jewels had lain ever since +at the bottom of the moat unnoticed, though the sunlight found out and +treacherously tried to tell the secret. Think of Ptolemy writing about +Caerlaverock, and calling it Carbantorigun! I'm glad we haven't to call +it that now, or I should always have to say _it_--as one goes on saying +"you" to a person whose name one hasn't caught. + +Even if Caerlaverock were in hideous surroundings, it would be +magnificent: but the river Solway is its silver foreground, and Lochar +Moss is its mysterious background; so it is perfect in beauty as in +strength, and if only no such hateful things as cannons had been +invented, it would not now be a ruin. Although it lies so low, it was +built to resist everything but gunpowder: for how could the Maxwells +dream that all their beautiful arrangements for pouring down molten lead +and boiling oil would be useless against a new foe? + +Edward I took the castle in 1300, but Bruce got it back thirteen years +later; and there was much fighting and tossing back of the Key from one +hand to the other even before the great siege when the Earl of Essex +punished Lord Herries for defending Queen Mary. Still, the walls stood +bravely, and after the Essex affair they were made stronger than +ever--so strong and so splendid it must have seemed as if Caerlaverock +need never capitulate again to any enemy. But no sooner had the Maxwells +finished a lovely new facade, the best they'd ever had, with carved +window and door caps of the latest fashion, than Colonel Home came along +with his grim Covenanters and blew up everything with his horrid +cannons. I can't help disliking him, for the Maxwells seem to have been +the most fascinating people. One Lord Maxwell of the seventeenth +century, who was Roman Catholic when it wasn't safe to be Roman +Catholic, used to disguise himself as a beggar, and play the fiddle in +the market-place of Dumfries as a signal to tell the faithful of his own +religion where and when they might come to Mass. They understood +according to certain tunes agreed upon, which was easy, as they had only +three meeting-places. A nice old man in the castle told us these stories +and showed us the exquisite courtyard where Burns came one day when he +was seventeen and cut on a stone in the wall the initials R. B. in a +triangle, like a masonic sign, which suggests the wedge shape of the +castle. + +Sir S. knew all about this carving, and said that Americans had offered +two thousand pounds for the stone. But the Duchess of Norfolk, who is +mistress of Caerlaverock in her own right, turned up her nose, +metaphorically speaking, at the offer. "I bid ye fair:" is the motto +that goes with the crest over the huge gateway between two towers, and +the rumour is that the Americans, in bidding for the stone of the +initials, quoted this motto; but their aptness did them no good. In one +of those towers Murdoch, the blind Duke of Albany, was imprisoned for +seven years by James I before he was executed at Stirling; and they say +that in the green hollow where the great red ruin glows he can be seen +walking in the moonlight on the anniversary of his beheading. + +One of my favourite stories in history is about Lord Nithsdale and his +brave, clever wife who saved him on the eve of his execution by dressing +him in her clothes and letting him walk calmly out of the Tower of +London in her place. Think of being able to do such a thing for a man +you loved! He was one of the Lords Nithsdale who came from Caerlaverock; +and not far away, at Terregles House, is a portrait of that Countess of +Nithsdale, with the cloak which her husband wore when he escaped. They +have a Prayer Book, too, of Queen Mary's in that house, for she gave it +to Lord Herries, who sheltered her in her flight after the battle at +Langside, eighty miles away. But we didn't see these things. It was the +old man at the castle who told us of them, because they are still in the +keeping of the Maxwell family, of which he is very proud. + +We hurried quickly through Dumfries, not to see or think of the Burns +associations there until we should come back; but at Lincluden Abbey, +close by, we were forced to think of him--although, as far as our trip +was concerned, he wasn't born. At Lincluden, where he loved to come, +walking out from Dumfries (as he must have walked to Caerlaverock to cut +his initials) he saw the Vision. And Lincluden is so sweet a place that +my thoughts of it, mingling very humbly with the great poet's thoughts, +will lie together in my memory as pressed flowers lie between the pages +of a book. + +The road which leads from Dumfries to Lincluden seems like a quiet +prelude to a lovely burst of music, so gentle and pretty it is. Then +suddenly you come to the promontory stitched on to the mainland with +great silver stitches of rivers, the Cluden and the Nith; and there are +old earthworks, fallen into ruin, which guard the Abbey as the skeletons +of watch-dogs might lie guarding a dead master. There's a mound, too, by +the side of the ruined church, and it is called a Mote, which means +something desperately interesting and historic, and there's a Peel-tower +in ruin. Indeed, all is in ruin at Lincluden Abbey; but that makes it +the sweeter and sadder. And as we came, the red of the crumbling +sandstone burned in the fire of sunset like a funeral pyre heaped with +roses. The melancholy, crowding trees and the delicate groups of little +bushes were like mourners coming with their children to look on at the +great burning. + +We went into the church to see the tomb of Margaret Countess of Douglas, +who was a daughter of King Robert the Third; and somehow the mutilations +of the effigy made it more beautiful, causing you to see as in a blurred +picture the thousand events of troublous times which had passed over the +figure, leaving it through all peacefully asleep. A daughter of a king, +with the Douglas Heart to guard her, she would be too noble in her stony +slumber to show that she minded losing her features and a few other +trifling accessories which might spoil the looks of less important +women. + +When we came out, high in the sunset glory gleamed a silver sickle, +reaping roses. It was the heather moon, and I cried out to Sir S. as I +saw it, "Wish--wish! Your first sight of the heather moon, and over our +right shoulders for luck! Whatever we wish _must_ come true!" + +I was so excited that I seized his hand; and he was too polite to give +it back to me like a thing he didn't want. So he held it firmly in his +while we both looked up to the sky, silently making our wishes. My wish +was to be that my mother might love me; but I stopped and thought, "What +is the good of making such a wish, when I've only one, and I'm sure to +get that one without the heather moon, as mothers all love their +children." This caution was very "canny" and proved my Scottish blood, I +couldn't help thinking, as I paused in order to select the most +appropriate wish for the heather moon to grant. + +Several ideas presented themselves with a bow: a wish to be happy: but +that wasn't "concrete" enough, as Sir S. would say. A wish to be very +rich and able to do anything in the world I might like to do; but being +rich sounds so fat and uninteresting--or else bald-headed; for nearly +all the photographs in picture papers of desperately rich people are one +or the other, or both. At last I began to be nervous, for if Sir S. or +Mrs. James (who was close by) should speak before I'd given my wish to +the new moon, she'd be unable to grant it, even with the best +intentions. That is a well-known fact in connection with wishing by the +moon. I have it on the authority of both Mrs. Muir and Heppie. Being in +a hurry, I grew confused, and so could think of nothing more important +than to wish for my knight never to forget me in future, wherever he may +be. And just as I'd finished, he said, "Well? What did you wish?" + +Of course I couldn't tell him such a wish as that; but, luckily, you +must never let anybody know what you've wished by a moon or a star, if +you want the wish to come true. + +I explained this to Sir S., and he said, as far as he was concerned, it +didn't matter, for he hadn't wished after all. "Oh, what a waste of the +heather moon!" I cried, for it really seemed too bad. But he answered +that the only thing he particularly wished for just then was a thing +which wasn't fair to wish, on account of the 'other party concerned.' I +laughed, and said if he had _wished_ to wish, he had wished, in spite of +himself, and the heather moon had heard; because that's the business of +any well-trained new moon, and the heather moon is the best-trained of +the year. "'The other party concerned' must just take the risk," I said. +"And very likely 'twill be the best thing for him, her, or it in the +end." + +"I daren't hope that," said he, looking up at the silver sickle as +earnestly as if we weren't talking nonsense. + +"Don't you think the heather moon knows best?" I reproached him. But he +did not answer, and only hummed under his breath, as we walked to the +waiting car: + + "How far, how far to Gretna? + It's years and years away-- + And coach-and-four shall nevermore + Fling dust across the day." + +All the way along the shadowy, switchback road from Dumfries going to +Sweetheart Abbey (I like to write the name, it is so pretty and +old-fashioned) we had glimpses of the moon scattering silver through the +tree branches as she fell down the west. I thought the soft white curve +like a baby's arm, rounded at the elbow; and it waved us good-night over +the heather-clad mound of Criffel, as a baby might wave over the fat +shoulder of a big nurse dressed in purple. It is _cheek_ of Criffel to +call itself a mountain, and of course it wouldn't dare to if there were +other real mountains within twenty-five miles. + +When I made this remark Mrs. James asked me where, in my sequestered +life, I had got hold of such an unladylike word as "cheek," but I told +her I must have been born knowing it, as there was never a time in my +memory when I didn't. Also Mr. Douglas had used it several times in +Carlisle Castle. + +"Haven't you forgotten him yet?" asked Sir S. + +"It would be silly to forget, and have to make his acquaintance over +again at Edinburgh," I said. "He asked me particularly to think of him +during our trip whenever I should see the Douglas Heart. Now I have just +seen it at Lincluden." + +"Douglas Heart indeed! Douglas cheek!" I heard Sir S. mutter. + +There is one part of that road between Dumfries and Sweetheart Abbey I +shall never forget: the view from Whinny Hill--a sudden view springing +from behind trees, as if a green curtain had been pulled back from a +picture. In this picture there were the silver Nith, and purple Criffel +of course (which always tries to get itself noticed wherever you turn), +a great forty-foot monument put up to commemorate Waterloo; and again +the red triangle of Caerlaverock glowing on the green shore of the +Solway Firth. + +I suppose the people who were shy of seeming sentimental insisted on +calling Sweetheart Abbey New Abbey. I can imagine Sir S. voting for the +change, because I fancy that he would endure torture rather than be +thought sentimental. He describes a place or a thing or a person +glowingly, then hurries to cap his description with a few joking or even +ironical words, lest he should be suspected of romance or enthusiasm. + +The village is called New Abbey too, so it is safe to mention that to +the driest person. It was just beginning to be evening, an evening +softly gray as doves' wings folding down, when our Dragon sidled toward +an inn it saw, quite a nice little inn, where Sir S. announced that we +would stop the night. Before going in, however, he took us to look at a +queer bas-relief built into the wall of a whitewashed cottage on the +left side of the road. It showed three ladies industriously rowing a +boat across the ferry--pious dames who brought all the stones from +Caerlaverock, on the other side of the Solway, to build the Abbey. + +"Rock of the Lark" is a delightful name, but Sweetheart Abbey is +prettier, and the reason of the name is the prettiest part. Only I wish +that the devoted Devorgilla who built the Abbey of Dolce Cor to be a big +sacred box for the heart of her husband had had a worthier object of +worship than the king, John Balliol. All the history I have ever read +makes him out to be a weak and cowardly and rather treacherous person; +but, as Sir S. said, "Mirabeau judged by the people and Mirabeau judged +by his friends were two men"; and I suppose John must have put himself +out to be charming to Devorgilla, or she wouldn't have wandered about +with his heart in an ebony box inlaid with silver, and insisted on +having it on the table in front of her when she ate her dinner. That was +one way of keeping her husband's heart during her whole lifetime--and +even after death, for of course she had it buried with her. It must have +been glad of a little rest by that time, the poor heart, for it had so +much travelling to do. I suppose it even went as far as Oxford when +Devorgilla founded Balliol College. + +The last shaft of the sun was turned off the rose-coloured ruin and the +secluded valley where the cross-shaped Abbey hides from the world; and +the moon was gone, too, swept away like a tiny boat on a wave of sunset. +Still, it was full daylight, and Sir S. announced that he had a plan. +This plan was for us to go (as soon as we'd seen our rooms, which he had +engaged by telegram) and get permission to enter the Abbey by twilight, +when no one else was there. + +The little gray inn of the town looked no bigger than a good-sized +private house, but it was the very first hotel of my life, and I +regarded it as an Epoch, with a capital E. That point of view was upheld +later by the heavenly scones and honey they gave us--heather honey, gold +as the heather moon. And we had cool, clean rooms, suitable for the +dreaming of sweet dreams. _My_ dreams there seemed very important. + +The great Somerled can of course get anything he wants to ask for if he +chooses to reveal himself--anyhow, in Scotland; because already I am +beginning to learn that even the smallest or humblest Scottish peasant +knows all that's worth knowing, not only of the past but of the present, +and has heard of all the celebrities. Maybe there might be miniature +places in England, America, Germany, or France where the poor and +uneducated would know nothing of Somerled the painter and millionaire. +But in Scotland, apparently, though there are many poor, there are no +uneducated persons. Those to whom his being a painter would mean nothing +would be interested in his money. Those who didn't care for his millions +of dollars would have read about his painting: and all would value him +because he belongs to Scotland. + +As soon as our luggage was in our rooms and dinner ordered, Sir Somerled +inquired if we were ready for the Abbey; but Mrs. James mildly asked if +we would mind going without her. She had begun to realize that she was +tired, and would like to rest. She could go by herself to the Abbey +early in the morning before starting time. I felt that I ought to mind +more than I did, but I couldn't help liking to be with Sir S. alone. It +seemed like the night of our first meeting; for some one had always been +with us, more or less, ever since. It was only a short stroll through +the village, not enough to call a walk. A dear little lady who lives in +a nice cottage close to the ruin opened the iron gate, but she did not +go in with us, because it was time for her supper. She had a photograph +done from one of the great Somerled's most famous pictures, and if he +had been a long she could not have been more polite. + +At first, the inside of the shell-like Abbey with the beautiful name was +a disappointment. The green grass was encumbered with tasteless graves +and flat modern stones which looked as if they had lain down there +without permission. + +We wandered about rather forlornly for a while, until we found +Devorgilla's thirteenth-century tomb. Sir S. told me her history, and +waked the sad old place to living interest. I seemed to see the +ever-loving lady, followed by her chosen maidens carrying the heart in +its ebony and silver box. And together we made up a theory, that of +every event _something_ reminiscent lingers on the spot where it +happened. If only our eyes were different, we should be able, wherever +we went, to see filmy, mysterious pictures painted on air--fadeless, +moving photographs of all the people and all the deeds which have made +up the world's history. + +This set us talking of our own pictures, which we are leaving behind us +as we go through life; and I couldn't help thinking how he and I, in +accordance with this idea, will for ever and ever go on being "married" +at Gretna Green. I laughed at the thought, and he asked me why, so I +told him. + +"When you're marrying your real wife, years from now maybe, and have +forgotten my existence, that scene will still be enacting itself," I +said, "not only on the films the photograph men took, but on air films. +Doesn't it frighten you?" I asked. + +"Doesn't it frighten you?" he echoed. "Because you will marry. I never +shall." + +"How do you know?" I catechized him. + +"If I can't have the wife I want, I'll have none." + +"Perhaps you can have the one you want if you ask her nicely." + +"I don't intend to ask. I'm not the right one for her." + +"You might let her decide that!" I nobly said, for Mrs. West may be the +woman. "I do hope, if men ever love me, they'll tell me so." + +"No fear! They will." He laughed more loudly than I have heard him +laugh. + +"But the right one mayn't, if he thinks as you do." + +"He won't. He'll be thinking only of himself. But look here, my girl, be +sure you _do_ take the right one when you marry; for if in my opinion +you're likely to make a big mistake when the time comes, I may be +tempted to put a spoke in the fellow's wheel." + +"Please do!" I laughed. + +"You think I'm joking," he said, watching me in a way he has, between +narrowed lids, his eyes almost black in the twilight. "And so I am to a +certain extent. Yet I might forbid the banns, perhaps--if I chose." + +"But how?" + +"Haven't you any idea?" + +"Not half a one." + +"Then I won't tell. It would only worry you--for nothing. Marry in +peace, when your Prince comes, and I'll send you my blessing--from far +away." + +"I don't like to think of your being far away," I said. "Let's not talk +of it. For you are my only friend--except Mrs. James. And you're so +different." + +"I thank Heaven!" he said. "And I thank her for wanting a rest. Good as +she is, three would be a crowd in Sweetheart Abbey." + +Speaking of her made me think of the time. We had promised Mrs. James to +go back in half an hour for dinner! Already more than half an hour had +slipped away as we made our air-film photographs to haunt Sweetheart +Abbey with all its other ghosts. + +The twilight was changing to a light more mysterious, and as we looked +at each other through the opal haze I felt strangely that we were +changing too. It was as if our realities were less real than the shadow +pictures which were to live on here together forever--as if our bodies, +which would go away and separate, to live different lives far away from +one another, would not be _us_ any more. + +I could not have imagined so wonderful a light as that which illuminated +the great rose-window and filled the vast broken shell of the Abbey. It +was as if the day had been poured out of a cup, and night was being +slowly poured in--the dove-gray night of dreams. It was pale, yet not +bright like the light of dawn. It was more like a light glimmering over +a sheet of water, a light made of the water itself. Almost I expected to +see the Heart rise up in the ebony and silver box, and the box opening. + +"You look like a young seeress," my Knight said. "What is it that you +see with your great eyes gazing through the dusk?" + +"I see--a heart," I answered. "I think I see a heart." + +"That is very intelligent of you," he said, in a changed tone. "Come, +child, it's time I took you home." + +"Is there the ghost of a heart floating here?" I asked, wishing to +linger. But he took my hand and drew me toward the gate. + +"To me," he said dryly, "it appears to be a real heart--almost too real +for comfort." + +We walked back to the inn, and he was uninterestingly commonplace all +the way. He talked about dinner, and buying petrol for the car, and told +me dull facts about tiresome things called carburettors. It would have +been a horrid anticlimax, spoiling all the romance of Sweetheart Abbey, +if he had not changed later on. But he did change. There was a little +piano in the sitting-room they gave us, and Mrs. James began drumming +out a few Scotch airs, warbling the words in a high, thin voice rather +like that of an intelligent insect. There was one tune I knew, and I +couldn't resist joining in. At the end Sir S. applauded. + +"What a pity her grandmamma wouldn't let her take lessons, as I once +ventured to suggest!" said Mrs. James. "She has a true ear, and a sweet +voice wonderfully like her mother's, which I quite well remember. But +Mrs. MacDonald had the idea that music lessons would lead to vanity. +Don't you think, sir" (she often slips in a respectful "sir"), "that her +voice would repay instruction?" + +"I do," pronounced the great Somerled. + +"I'm sure _you_ sing," went on Mrs. James. "I flatter myself I can +always tell by people's faces." + +"Like Barrie, I never had lessons," he said. "But I suppose we +Highlanders are born with music in our blood." + +"Then you do sing?" she persisted. + +"Only to please myself. Not that it does!" + +"Will you sing to please us?" + +"It wouldn't please you." + +"Barrie, _you_ ask." + +"The Princess commands!" I said, not expecting him to humour my +impudence, but he did, by going at once to the piano. It had lisped and +stammered awkwardly for Mrs. James, but it obeyed him as if the keys +were mesmerized. He played a prelude, and then sang "Annie Laurie," in a +soft, mellow voice, so low that people outside the room could hardly +have heard. It seemed as if there must really be an "Annie Laurie" in +his life. Surely a man could not sing like that, and look like that in +singing, unless he called up the face of some woman he loved. I wondered +if he thought of Mrs. West, who is so very pretty, and rather like the +description of "Annie Laurie." His eyes looked far away as he sang, +through the wall--oh, yes, I'm sure they could see through the wall at +that moment--perhaps as far as "Maxwellton Braes"; perhaps still +farther, searching for Mrs. West wherever she might be. + +I don't know how it would make one feel if such a man with such a voice +looked into one's eyes and sang a song of love. I'm afraid it might make +one rather foolish. But it was only at the wall that Sir S. stared until +he began a very different song--the lament of a Highlander who would +nevermore see his island home nor the love of his youth. It was a +heart-breaking song; and though his voice was pitched so low it was +almost like singing in a whisper, there was a strange, vibrating power +in it, as there is in the strings of a violin touched but lightly by the +bow. Sir S. transferred his attention from the wall to me as he sang +this sad old ballad, and I could not look away, because there was the +same compelling power in his eyes as in his voice. No doubt it was only +of the song he thought, not of me at all, really; yet I could not shake +off the haunting impression of the look, and it made me dream of him all +night. I saw him standing beside me in the strange, pale twilight of +Sweetheart Abbey. And in his hand was a box of ebony, inlaid with +silver, which he held out. But when I took the box it was locked, and he +had no key. "Only the key of the rainbow will open this box," he said. +And then I woke up, feeling somehow as if the dream were of importance, +and I must try to find out why. + + + + +VII + + +Next morning when I saw Sir S. I felt confused and vaguely ashamed, as +if something had happened. But, of course, nothing had happened, nothing +at all. I kept on reminding myself of that until I was at ease again. +And his manner helped me to realize how silly I was, for almost he +seemed to go out of his way to put on the commonplace air I had +disliked. It was as if he wrapped himself up in a big, rough coat, +smelling of tobacco smoke, and rather old and shabby, with the collar +well turned up. + +We started early, long before eight, and Mrs. James remarked, while we +were dressing--calling out from her room to mine through the open +door--that there was more credit for Sir S. than for us in liking an +early start. Many men as successful and flattered and rich as he, she +said, would have grown luxurious in their tastes, and lazy. They would +loathe getting up at six, and staying in tiny hotels, and fussing about +to help their chauffeurs when anything went wrong with their cars. They +would hate so much having to pack bags and look after themselves that +they would find it impossible to enjoy travelling without a valet; but +here was this man, used to every luxury, and able to command it, putting +himself to trouble of all sorts and even enduring hardships as +cheerfully as a "little bank clerk out for a holiday with his sister and +aunt." + +I agreed with her, and I suppose bank clerks are as interesting a class +as any; but I'm glad Sir S. is not one. And it is more fun being his +princess than his sister. Mrs. James may be his aunt if she likes. I +wouldn't be it for all his millions. + +He asked her again if she would like to try the front seat, but she +politely refused, and then, with his rough-coat, turned-up-collar-air, +he invited me to take it. Something deep down in me, like a little live +creature whispering, told me to make him turn down that collar and throw +off that rough coat. It did seem such a _waste_, to have him wearing his +commonplace airs while we travelled through the most adorable country we +had seen yet. I wanted him and me and the scenery all to be romantic +together, and so I told him at last. "But if I'm determined to keep on +the safe side of romance?" he said. + +"If you've decided to be dull and disagreeable," I threatened, "I shan't +give you the 'rainbow key' when I find it. I'll hand it over to somebody +else." + +"Will you?" he said. "Be sure the somebody else deserves it, then." + +This annoyed me. Because I'm looking for the rainbow key for _him_, not +somebody else. "At present I don't happen to know anybody else I'd care +to give it to," I remarked. + +"Ay," said he, "there's the rub. You know so few. But it will be +different when the princess has a dozen knights all in the competition." + +"Perhaps other knights won't notice that I'm a princess." + +"Judging from what I've observed, I think they'll be quick to notice +that." + +"Well, it remains to be seen." + +"Just so. It remains to be seen." His voice sounded sad or bored, so I +tried to be tactful for once, like Mrs. West, and changed the subject. + +This was the road which Carlyle thought the most beautiful in the +kingdom. Going to Mainsriddle and Dalbeattie we skimmed through dark, +haunted-looking woods, to sudden glimpses of far-down yellow sands and +floating forms of mountains. The tide was running out or running in, +veining the floor of gold with misty blue traceries, and making bright +pools like bits of broken glass. The trees along our way were a +procession of benevolent giants holding green umbrellas over our heads, +because they mistook us for expected royalties; and on the smooth white +surface of the road they had scattered shadows like torn black Spanish +lace. Criffel followed us everywhere, trying jealously to keep us from +noticing that the noble mountains of Cumberland were still watching us +out of sight, across the Solway Firth. And indeed, Criffel, with some +small brother hills he had to-day collected, like the hasty gathering of +a clan, did manage to destroy the effect of distance so far as he and +his brethren were concerned. He and all the rest, no matter how far off, +pushed themselves into the foreground by means of their colour, so +violent a purple that it struck at the eyes, and vibrated in the ears +like rich wild notes of an organ rolling over the uplands of Scotland. +Only the sands and the sea looked distant, though really they were near; +and I worried about the groups of cattle gossiping so pleasantly +together about their cuds and calves. They had a placid air of ignoring +such large facts of life as incoming tides, and could never have read +what happened to Mary and her cows on the sands of Dee, a resort only +less fashionable in the cattle world than their own. + +Lights on sky and sands, seen through the netting of tree branches, were +like sweet bursts of laughter in the forests; and the glory of the +heather was a wordless song in praise of Scotland. Yet in these flying +Galloway landscapes there was an impression of the mystic and +melancholy, which reminded Sir S. of "The Twilight of the Gods": strange +purple rocks jutting out into water coldly bright as a sheet of mercury, +and desolate islands remote and haunted as the place where Gunter and +his sister lived in the opera. We seemed to be travelling through vast, +lonely places, though it was but a part of Galloway, and all Scotland is +but small--just large enough to give an eyeful of beauty always. + +When we came to the sparkling granite town of Dalbeattie (a miniature +Aberdeen, Sir S. called it) instead of going straight on toward +Kirkcudbright we turned westward to see the great stronghold of the +Black Douglases. It was no more than seven easy miles to Castle Douglas, +a little modern town all laid out in rectangles. Sailing straight +through, we came out on the edge of Carlingwark Loch, which rings a few +green islets with silver; and taking a side road we were close to the +river Dee. There, on a cushion of an island, only big enough to hold it, +rose the great ruin of Thrieve Castle, the home of the proud and +magnificent Douglases. Once boats must have carried the knights and +ladies back and forth between the mainland and the fourteenth-century +fastness of old Archibald the Grim. But now I saw a line of +half-submerged stepping-stones, the only way of crossing in these days +when there is no fighting or feasting at Thrieve, and no "tassel" +dangling from the knoblike "hanging stone" over the great gate. + + "Workers of high-handed outrage! + Making King and people grieve, + O the lawless Lords of Galloway! + O the bloody towers of Thrieve!" + +Sir S. quoted as we stared up at the giant keep, seventy feet high, with +its tremendous walls. "They were a terrible power in the land, that +family, at their greatest, when they lorded it over Galloway and +Annandale, and owned Touraine and Longueville in France, and used to +ride out with a retinue of a thousand picked horsemen." + +"That nice soldier yesterday--Mr. Douglas at Carlisle--thinks they were +a _charming_ family," said I. "He has an old proverb something like +this: + + "So many, so good as of Douglases have been + Of one surname in Scotland never yet was seen." + +and he told me a great deal about the Douglas Heart." + +"He would!" mumbled Sir S. "There were good hearts and bad hearts among +them, but all were great hearts in the old days; anyhow, I'm not +surprised that Crockett got inspiration from this place when he used to +play here, coming over from Castle Douglas, where he was at school. He +must have had his head buzzing with story plots when he'd climbed up +inside the walls and crawled out to sit astride of the hanging stone. +I'll warrant he saw Maclellan beheaded in the courtyard while Sir +Patrick Gray, the King's messenger, supped with Douglas; and heard Mons +Meg fire off the first granite cannon-ball, that shot away the hand of +the Countess as she held a wine-glass up, drinking confusion to her +enemies. No wonder little boy Crockett got absent-minded one day, when +he dropped his watch instead of a pebble in wanting to test the time the +stone would take to fall." + +The next bit of Crockett-lore I heard was at Auchencairn in the deep, +indented bay we'd reached by turning south for the coast again. There, +it seemed, we were in the heart of Crockettland, for Hestan Island is +the Rathan Island of the "Raiders." All round was sweet, welcoming +country, low mountains and rippling meadows, where it seemed that the +Douglas soldiers had laid their glittering helmets down in long straight +ranks on a carpet of cloth o' gold. Over these fields of garnered wheat +came a breeze from the sea, with a tang of salt like a tonic mixture, +and there was a murmurous sound on the air, a message from the tide. + +There were hundreds of historic things to see, in every direction, if we +had had time for all: traces of the Attecott Picts; Pict forts and +tombs, castles of the Middle Ages; robber caves; Convenanters' +monuments; and at Balcarry, near Auchencairn, the landing-place of the +smuggler Yawkins, who was Scott's "Dirk Hatteraick." But we had only +five days for everything before the Great Day--which will be coming so +soon now. From Auchencairn we turned inland to a rolling country where +the Gray Dragon would be down one hill and halfway up another before he +knew what had happened. At Dundrennan--"Hill of the Thorn Bushes"--he +had his first mishap; but after the surprise of thinking a bomb had +exploded, I was glad he'd seized just that opportunity of bursting a +tire, because it gave us more time for the Abbey than we should have +given ourselves. + +While the chauffeur made the dragon's toilet, patching up a fat white +foot as he might have doctored the pad of an elephant, we wandered +about, and finally decided to lunch in a secluded corner of the +twelfth-century ruins. + +Mrs. James and I set out our picnic-table, a folding thing that Sir S. +carries in the car, and we counted on having the place to ourselves. +Tourists though we are, we scorn other tourists. But it seems incredible +that such as they can scorn us. We talked about Queen Mary and of her +last meal within those walls, and it felt sacrilegious to laugh and joke +where she had been so sad. We pictured her, young and beautiful, taking +leave of the loyal men who had begged her in vain not to trust +Elizabeth; and we could fancy the town turning out to see her vessel set +sail--a very different town it would have been then from the charming +little place it is to-day, with its low white cottages half covered with +flowers, the spotless walls as clean as damask tablecloths, and all so +gay and bright to the eye that grim Dundrennan Abbey in its midst is +like a skull fallen in a rose-garden. + +"Ah," sighed Mrs. James, shaking her head, with a jam puff in her hand, +"if the Queen had listened to Maxwell she might have lived in safety to +be an old woman!" + +"True, she might have kept her head," Sir S. agreed, comfortably cutting +himself a piece of plum cake; "but if she'd taken Maxwell's advice, +instead of sailing from Port Mary, never to see Scotland again, wouldn't +the whole civilized world miss its best-loved heroine of romance? No +other woman since history began has so captured the hearts of men, and +made herself so adored through the centuries, in spite of all her +faults, or because of them. Mary Stuart and Napoleon Bonaparte are the +two figures in history of whom no one ever tires of talking or reading." + +"Still, we must be sad at Dundrennan, where her last night in Scotland +was spent," Mrs. James mildly persisted, having eaten her puff while Sir +S. argued. "I wonder if Michael Scott the magician, who lived here (he +comes into the "Lay of the Last Minstrel," you know), had prophetic +visions of Queen Mary and her fate? I should think so, for he had the +secret of all sorts of spells. The people of the neighbourhood believed +that he'd locked up the plague in an underground room of the Abbey, and +for years they dared not excavate for fear the demon should leap out and +ravage the country. They used to think they could hear a rustling----" + +At that instant we heard one ourselves; a distinct rustling fell upon +our ears, and made us turn round with a start. The plague we feared was +tourists; but if it had been Michael Scott's demon, with a scarlet body +and a green head, I should have liked it better than Mrs. West's pale +purple coat and motoring bonnet. I don't know how Sir S. felt about the +surprise, but that was _my_ feeling, though I was glad to see her +brother. I find him the nicest thing about Mrs. West. + +"Who would have thought of running against you?" she exclaimed, as Sir +S. jumped up from the table and shook hands as cordially as if there had +never been that mysterious row. "We've come from Port Mary, where Basil +sentimentalized over the stone Queen Mary stood on to get into her ship. +We haven't the patience to make our notes before luncheon! We're _so_ +hungry, and there's such a lot to write about King David--_do_ you think +he built the Abbey, or was it Fergus, Lord of Galloway?--and all this +architecture which interests Basil even when he's starving! We've +brought our own sandwiches--we won't bother you----" + +Of course Sir S. and Mrs. James both protested that having them was a +pleasure, not a bother. As for me, I remembered that little girls should +be seen and not heard, so I said nothing, and ate the nicest cake for +fear Mrs. West might get it. Sir S. gave his place at the table and his +folding-chair to Mrs. West, and finished his luncheon, standing up, with +Mr. Norman. After all, Mrs. West didn't seem to be hungry. She ate +scarcely anything, and when Sir S. asked her to have some ice-cold white +wine from the refrigerator basket, she said with a soft, sad smile, "'I +drink to thee only with mine eyes.'" Then, suddenly, hers filled with +tears, so they were liquid enough for a good long drink! She looked down +again quickly, with a blush which gave her complexion a peach-like +bloom; and Sir S. made haste to question Mr. Norman about the hired car. +But I could see that he was embarrassed and distressed, and wondered +more than ever what their quarrel was about. Sir S. wouldn't listen to +me the first day, when I said it was my fault, and I oughtn't to go in +his car. I'd almost forgotten that, it seemed so long ago; but I +remembered when I saw the tears in her eyes, and heard the strained +sound in his voice. Even Mr. Norman didn't look happy. Mrs. James was +the only one not affected. She ate her luncheon with a good appetite, +which the sorrows of neither Mrs. West nor Queen Mary could take away +from her. + +When we had finished, Mrs. West asked Sir S. in a gentle hesitating way +if he would mind explaining to her the beautiful Gothic doorway at the +south side of the church. It was such a chance to find a great authority +on architecture, like him, upon the very spot, for she and Basil were so +ignorant, they always feared to make mistakes in their notes. Sir S. +went like a lamb led by a chain of roses, but apparently Mr. Norman +didn't feel the same need of expert advice. He stopped with Mrs. James +and me, and helped us clear the table. When we'd packed everything up, +he offered to take the basket to the car; and, as the others hadn't come +back, I went with him, carrying the folding-chairs, which were not much +heavier than three feathers. + +"Have you remembered my advice?" he inquired. "Have you begun to write?" + +"Yes, a little," I said. "What about your book?" + +He shrugged his shoulders, looking melancholy. + +"Won't the plot come right?" I asked. + +"No. Nothing comes right." + +"What a pity!" + +"Yes, it's a pity. But I can't help it." + +"Can't Mrs. West help?" + +"She's not in the mood. Not that it's all her fault. Probably it's just +as much mine. We're getting on each other's nerves--and that's new to +us. There won't be a book. There can't be a book as things are." + +"Yet you're going on with your trip?" + +"Oh, yes, we're going on with our trip. Aline wouldn't give that up." + +"If it hadn't been for me," I said, "it would have been all right for +you both. I feel a _beast_! I've spoiled everything." + +"You're a witch, and you've bewitched us. Yes! That's what you have +done." + +"Thanks for your polite way of putting it," said I. "'Witch' is a nicer +epithet than 'beast.' I wish--I almost wish--I'd never seen any of you!" + +"I don't," said he. "And I don't believe Somerled does. To go back to +the time when we didn't know that the witch-child existed would be going +back from electricity to candles." + +"You have a pretty way of poking fun at me," I laughed. "But I suppose +you mean I've given you all a shock. Well, you'll soon be rid of me. +Three days more, and the end! But I do wish I knew how to mend matters +and make you and your sister happy again, at once." + +"I could tell you how," he said quickly. + +"Do, then! You've just time, if you hurry up before the others come." + +He looked round, and there were Mrs. James and Mrs. West walking toward +us with Sir S. They were very near. + +He hesitated, and his face grew red. "Will you promise not to be angry?" +he almost whispered. + +"I promise! Tell me." + +"If you want to make everything come right for everybody in a minute, +you must turn your attention entirely to me." + +"What good would that do?" I asked stupidly. + +"It would do me all the good in the world, because, as I told you, +you've bewitched me. It would do my sister good because--well, because +she's particularly anxious for you to like me. And it would do Somerled +good because--it might teach him his own mind--bring him to his senses." + +"I don't understand one word you're talking about!" I broke out. + +"It doesn't so much matter what you understand as what you do. Dear +little Miss MacDonald, will you try and be very, very kind to me, +for--everybody's sake?" + +"Of course," said I. "But you must call me Barrie." + +"Thank you! That's one step. Will you call me Basil?" + +"If you like," I answered. "Basil and Barrie! Don't they sound nice +together?" + +Just then the others came up and heard what I said, which made me feel +foolish, as they'd missed the first part. But Mrs. West beamed at me. I +had been thinking that Basil Norman was the sort of man I should love to +have for a brother, but Mrs. West as a sister I could _not_ stand! + +"Basil and Barrie _look_ nice together too, don't they, Mr. Somerled?" +she remarked. + +"Very," said he dryly. And the next thing I knew was that she was +sitting beside him on the front seat, and I was tucked in beside Mrs. +James, with Basil Norman opposite. Their motor, it seemed, was not +behaving well, and Aline was nervous, so Sir S. had suggested, as we +were all going on to Ayr, that they should come with us for the rest of +the day. + +I felt rather dazed about everything, and I'm afraid made a hash of the +scenery in my mind, until I had calmed down. I remember that we swept +through Kirkcudbright, which was named for St. Cuthbert because his +bones were once in the church. They were taking them on somewhere else, +but I don't know why. Basil told us all about it; but it sounded so odd +to hear him talking instructively of saints and Covenanters and martyrs, +and "the torch of religion being first lighted in Galloway," after he +had been begging me in a very different voice to "be nice to him," that +it muddled up my intelligence. I liked the town because it was pretty, +with graceful spires and lovely, ivied ruins; but I didn't care much +about the saints, or even about the last Lord Selkirk, for whom they put +up a Celtic cross in the Kirkcudbright market place; and I couldn't be +bothered pronouncing Kirkcudbright correctly. Of course it's done in the +last way you think it possibly could be, like all other Scottish names! +I brightened up a little at the story of Paul Jones at St. Mary's Isle, +because pirates are always nice, and he was classic. Besides, it was +amusing of him to fail to kidnap Lord Selkirk and steal a silver teapot +instead. To please Benjamin Franklin he gave the teapot back, so he +didn't get much out of that adventure! + +I remember too that there were hills on the way to Gatehouse of Fleet, +hills which turned their backs and reared on their hind legs as we saw +them in the distance; but always they knelt meekly in front of the Gray +Dragon, as if he beat them to their knees. They were not so +accommodating to the hired car which followed. Something was the matter +with its internal economy. It grunted and groaned and emitted +evil-smelling fumes because it couldn't digest its petrol. Basil named +the creature Old Blunderbore, but said he would not dare to call it so +before its chauffeur-owner, who glared behind his goggles when it was +blamed for anything. + +Gatehouse of Fleet looked, according to Basil, like places in Holland, +because sailing ships were apparently moving through fields, and masts +mixing themselves up with tree branches. Suddenly we had plunged into +Scott country, sandwiched in with Crockett, for Gatehouse is the +"Kippletingan" of "Guy Mannering." There was a sweet, sad smell of the +sea; and I heard Mrs. West ask Sir S. if it didn't remind him of "that +last night on the ship, when we told each other things?" + +About this time, I think it must have been, we began to see so many old +castles dotted about the landscape that at last we almost ceased to +notice them. It must have been nice living in one of those box-like +fortress castles in old days, when all your friends had them too; so +jolly and self-contained. And, as a matter of course, when you built one +you had a few dungeons put in, just as one has plenty of bathrooms now +in a big house. If you were of a dramatic turn of mind, you placed your +dungeons mostly under your dining-hall, so you could hear the starving +prisoners groan while you feasted comfortably. We passed several dear +little towns, too, which I should like to have for toys, to keep in +boxes when not playing with them. On most of the houses were charming +chimney-pots of different colours, exactly like immense chessmen, set +out ready for a game. All the men in these towns looked almost ill with +intelligence. Most of the girls were very pretty, with little coquettish +features contradicted by saintly expressions, and even the dogs appeared +well educated and intellectual. + +At Newton-Stewart a change came over the houses, but not the people or +animals. I felt that the smallest child would know more about books than +I did; and there was hardly a nondescript face to be seen. All could be +classified in historic Scottish types. But the whitewashed, thatched +cottages in the suburbs would have looked Irish if they had not been too +preternaturally clean. In the streets of Newton-Stewart there was not so +much as a stray stick or bit of paper. It looked to me a deeply +religious place, and Basil said perhaps it was trying to be worthy of +St. Ninian, who first brought Christianity to Scotland. He was a native +of the Solway shore, but went to Rome, where they liked him very much +and made him a bishop. Then he felt impelled to convert his own people, +so he sailed from France and landed at the island of Whithorn, which is +now an excursion place from Newton-Stewart. That sounds irreverent, but, +after all, an excursion is only a kind of pilgrimage; and even if people +are catching fish or eating them, they can be pleased to be at the one +place in Scotland where Christianity has gone on without interruption by +Vikings or others for fifteen hundred years. + +Then, besides, Newton-Stewart has a monument of Samuel Rutherford to +live up to. And they ought to have one of his namesake, Samuel +Rutherford Crockett, who has done so much for Galloway. + +It was in honour of his "Raiders" that we took the longest way to Ayr. +Some of the best things in that book happened near Loch Trool, so we +wanted to see Loch Trool. Bruce was there too; but this was a Crockett +tour. We should have gone perhaps, even if the run had been dull, for +it's only thirteen miles from Newton-Stewart, paradise of fishermen, to +the hidden lake; but the thirteen miles turned out to be a panorama of +beauty. Sir S. was surprised by its loveliness, though he knew by heart +Burns's poem, "The Banks of the Cree." We did not come at once to the +river; but from House o' Hill (delicious name!) we plunged into a wild, +forgotten paradise. The road lay under an arbour of trees like an +emerald tunnel, with a break here and there in the green wall to show a +blue shimmer of mountains and hills in the distance. We seemed to have +slipped into the hole leading to fairyland and pulled the hole in after +us; but I knew I was not going to enjoy getting there as much as if my +gray bonnet and coat had been on the front seat instead of Mrs. West's +purple beauties. It was suddenly that we came into sight and sound of +the river, and so deep was the stillness that we might have strayed into +the haunt of a sleeping nymph. Nothing moved but the rushing brown +water, and there was no sound, when we stopped to listen, but its joyous +song and the humming of bees in bracken and heather. + +Basil can "make believe" more easily and less stiffly than Sir S., +because he is an author, and used to stringing whimsies together. He and +I "pretended" that the bees were a fairy band, playing to a hidden +audience in a theatre roofed with the silver sheen of arching ferns. +Wafts of perfume came to us, cooled in woodsy dells, or warmed on +sunshiny banks of flowers; but not a soul could be seen anywhere, nor a +house. We knew that this was an inhabited world only by the wires +stretched across the river for the sending of letters and parcels. + +Sunset-time had not nearly come yet, but already a silver slit was torn +in the blue of the sky; and for the second time the heather moon was +smiling its bright semicircular smile, as if to say, "Make the most of +me, Barrie, _your_ time is short!" Yet how could I make the most of her +when I could see only my knight's back, with a purple shoulder as close +to his as possible, and the heather moon was _ours_? + +Suddenly Basil said, "Oh, there's your heather moon! I thought of you +yesterday after it rose until it set, and wondered what you were doing. +I do believe this _is_ different from other moons. Don't you see, young +as it is, how it has power to change the yellow of the sunlight, seeming +to alloy it with silver?" + +I did see, but thought I must have fancied the effect, until he saw it +too. (We often think and see and say the same things, which is nice, but +not so exciting as the society of a man who thinks different things and +makes you argue.) The silver pouring down from that small crescent +seemed to sift through the strong golden light in a separate and +distinct radiance. It shimmered on the sea of waving hills and billowing +mountains that opened out before us, as if sprinkling a glitter of +sequins over the vivid green and amber and purple. Wherever there was +shadow this pale glimmer painted it with ethereal colours, like the +backs of rainbow fish moving under water. I might have jumped out of the +car and found the rainbow key, but nobody wanted it now! + +"Just as that young, young moon has power to shine through the strong +afternoon sunlight, so a girl may all in a moment throw her influence +over a group of people older and more experienced than herself," said +Basil, smiling at me, and then at Mrs. James, as if he didn't mind her +hearing the flowery compliment. + +"I don't know any such girl in real life," said I; "but you might work +her up for your book." + +"I shall have to put her in, if the book's to be written," said he. + +By and by we came to the lake, or, rather, far above it; and Sir S. +stopped the car to let us get out and look down. The water was a clear +green with glints of purple, as if beds of heather grew underneath. +There were jagged, bare rocks, and rocks whose shoulders were half +covered as if with torn coats of faded brocade, dim silver of lichen, +and pale pink of wild flowers. I hoped that Sir S. might join me for a +look at the heather moon lying deep in the lake like a broken bracelet, +but he didn't come. He looked at me very kindly from a distance, not +coldly, yet not warmly, and he stayed with Mrs. West. + +It was Basil who told me about Robert Bruce and his men hiding here, and +rolling huge stones on the heads of the English soldiers who marched +along the bank of the lake in search of the "outlaws." It seemed as if +nothing terrible could have happened in so sweet a wilderness; but that +was not the only horror. There were other wild deeds in history, and in +the story of the "Raiders," memories of hunts for Covenanters, and great +killings. But now all is peace, and I should have thought Loch Trool +forgotten by the world if, in a dell of birch, rowan, hazel trees, and +great pines like green umbrellas, I had not spied a roof. + +Sir S. said it was the roof of Lord Galloway's shooting-lodge, loved by +its owner because it was "out of tourist zone." So much the worse for +tourists! So much the better for Lord Galloway! + +I should hate to think of the road to Loch Trool smoking with motor +dust. Of course our own Gray Dragon's pure dust is a different matter! + +As we ran out of Crockett land into Ayrshire we came into Wallace land; +for every foot of Scotland is taken up twice over by something or +somebody wonderful. There isn't an inch left for new history-makers. If +we could see those "emanations" Sir S. talks of--those ghost +pictures--as far as the eye could reach we should see men marching, +splendid men and women, too, who have made the world shine with their +deeds, processions coming from every direction, out of the dim beginning +of things up to the present day. + +After the wildness of Loch Trool we had a country of plenteousness and +peace. Basil said it was like a Surrey set down by the sea, so I suppose +Surrey has big trees and flowery hedges and rolling downs, purple with +heather. But surely no heather can be as purple as Scottish heather? + +The sands of Girvan seemed to float like a golden scarf on the blue sea, +and the town looked a romantic, mediaeval place till we shot into it. +Then we were disillusioned as to its age; but Ailsa Craig was noble in +the distance, and a few members of the gull colony had flapped over to +give town dwellers and visitors a sad serenade. "Gulls, golfers, and +geologists all love Girvan," Basil said. + +"Have you put that down in your notebook?" I inquired. + +"Not in those words. But I jotted down something about this town in +advance from authorities I've looked up. I generally keep two books +going: one in which I put the things I want to see, and ideas for plots +sometimes tangled up with a sort of diary; and another book of thoughts +about places I have already seen--thoughts I can weave into a story in +one way or another." + +"You haven't once written in either of your books to-day!" I accused +him. + +"No. I told you I'd given up note-taking for the present. I'm all at +sea. But just now it's a beautiful if not very calm sea." + +"When it quiets down you'll begin again," I consoled him. "How I should +love to see a real, live author's notebook! It would be so _useful_ to +know how you manage to--to----" + +"Record impressions," Mrs. James helped me out. + +Smiling, Basil took from a breast-pocket a small green morocco volume +with a pencil slipped into a loop. Compared to Mrs. West's pretty book, +his was a shabby thing; but it smelt of good cigarettes. + +"I'm afraid this will disillusion you," he said, "if you expect +something interesting. I simply make notes of things I want to see, or +jot down thoughts to recall pictures to my mind. Reading over one's +notebook is like glancing over a lot of kodak films. Sometimes one +sticks in a lot of nonsense." + +I opened the little volume, and ran my eyes down the short pages. +"Carlisle, Saturday, August Something or Other. Notes for Scotch Tour," +I read aloud. "Story of honeymoon. English hero--American girl. Aline +wants her Canadian. I see her American. Dispute. Must decide soon. +Reading up Galloway makes me want to go there. Aline says rush straight +on to Ayr, and save time. Hate saving time! Worst economy. More time you +spend, more you have. Must go along coast of Ayr, anyhow. Once lined +with strongholds of great families. See Dunure, Crossaguel, and deuced +lot of others. + +"Keats visited Burns's birthplace. Wrote sonnet there. Look this up. + +"Burns sought out, along banks of Ayr, places where Wallace was supposed +to have hidden. Good stuff this. Wallace fought all over the place here. +At Irvine, one of his earliest exploits. Kindled big fire, neighbouring +village. When English soldiers marched forth to put fire out, jumped on +them and killed the lot. Stuffed bodies into dungeon of castle at +Irvine. Called 'Wallace Larder' after that. Nasty larders people had in +those days. Read up account Douglas Larder. Compare the two. See which +worse. Why not call Barns of Ayr Wallace Oven? Read up Blind Harry for +picturesque story Barns of Ayr. Far as I remember, English enticed all +neighbouring Scots to powwow of some sort. Wallace expected; delay on +way. Scots executed on some pretext. When Wallace turned up, niece +warned him. He routed up few followers, set fire to barns and burnt +English, who were celebrating triumph over Wallace and his men. When get +to Ayr look this up further.... Word 'Whig' comes first from Ayr. Wonder +why? Look up. Also get Burns glossary. Dialect difficult. Aline won't +read Burns. Fear she's going to fail in this book. Thinks only of one +thing. But no matter. Courage, mon brave! + +"Sunday. Had batch bad notices of last book from America. Aline gone to +bed with headache as usual after bad reviews. Says we must economize. +She'll forget when we start and want best suites of rooms with baths +everywhere. I _know_ that book was good. Hang notices! Understand so +well what Job meant when said, 'Oh, that mine enemy would write a book!' +He wanted to criticise it. Each new boil would suggest scathing epithet. + +"Monday. Everything changed. Old plot exploded in thousand pieces. +Mustn't be honeymoon couple. Heroine radiant young girl, eighteen, hair +red as Circe's, eyes of new-born angel, comes like bombshell into hero's +life. Not good simile, bombshell. Query, hero. Would she fall in love +with man of B. N.'s type? I see another type more probable, but don't +want that. + +"August 4th. Fearful row. General upset. Don't see any book unless I +write it alone. Aline says I can save situation for her. Would like only +too well do what she wants, but difficult bring it off as things are. +Chances in favour of other man. Temptation consent be cat's-paw. Is that +fair to the lovely chestnut in the fire? Extra-ordinary that child like +this can so upset us all. What is the electric attraction we can't +resist? More than normal amount of radium, perhaps!" + +"Well, why don't you laugh at the rattle of the dry bones?" asked Basil, +as I read on, more and more puzzled. + +"I haven't come to many funny things yet," said I, "except about Job. +That was rather good, though I don't see how you weave such things into +your books." + +"Job--Job?" he repeated vaguely. Then a rush of blood went over his +whole face, up to his forehead. His dreamy dark eyes looked suddenly +anything but dreamy. "Good Heavens!" he gasped. "What have you got +there?" and began to ransack all the pockets of his waistcoat and coat +until he found the twin of the book he'd given me. "This is what I meant +you to see," he said in a queer, ashamed voice. + +I handed the first book back to him. He seized it and glanced from page +to page, looking almost ill. By and by he came to something which seemed +to scare him. As far as I could tell, it was farther toward the end than +I had read. + +"Would you mind showing me where you left off," he asked. + +"It was where you were wondering whether your new heroine had swallowed +radium or something," said I. + +"Oh!" He looked relieved. "Well--I wouldn't have had you see that +idiotic stuff for a good deal. But I told you, didn't I, that if the +book went on I'd have to put you into it? There's a lot of silly rot +there. Poetical license!" + +"The thing that made the most impression on me was the part about the +red hair," I said. "The description sounded so nice. Who was Circe, +please? Was she Scottish? It's a name a Pictish princess might have +had." + +"The first Circe lived even before the Pictish princesses," Basil +answered, quieting down, though he was still very flushed. "But she's +had a good many descendants--one or two at least in each generation of +women born in every country. Not that you--I mean the new heroine--will +be one of them really." + +"What did Circe do?" I hurried on. + +"Do? She was an exceptionally attractive woman. She had a special kind +of magnetism that nobody could resist. She amused herself by turning all +the men she knew--there were quite a lot of them--into animals of +different sorts." + +"I think it would have been cleverer and more attractive of her if she +had turned animals into men," said I. + +"That's what _my_ heroine can do," Basil explained. "She's a kind of +miniature baby Circe, for her red hair and general get up, and her +curious power of upsetting people and their plans from the first minute +they see her. But--my heroine wouldn't and couldn't turn her victims +into beasts. She makes them want to transform themselves into something +very extra special in the way of manliness." + +"Why do you call her _your_ heroine with an emphasis?" I wanted to know. +"Isn't she your sister's heroine, too?" + +"No. My sister doesn't see her as a heroine for a novel. And that's why +I say the book we started out to write won't materialize. No author can +write a story he or she doesn't take a strong interest in." + +"That's where my writing is easier," I said. "I just put down all the +things exactly as they happen, and as I see and think about them. So +there's no heroine--and no hero--and no story." + +"Yes, that is simpler," he agreed. "That's the way the Great Author +writes His book. Only all His characters are heroes and heroines in the +stories of their own lives." + +As we talked, the moon went down in the west. The sky was a pale lilac, +like a great concave mirror reflecting the heather. Then it darkened to +a deeper purple, and made my thoughts feel like pansies, as they +blossomed in my mind. We fell into silence. But Mrs. James said +afterward that was because we were hungry and didn't realize what was +the matter with us. Perhaps she was right, but it didn't seem so prosaic +at the time. + +As the car brought us near the town of Ayr (which, with its lights +coming out, reddened the purple mirror) it was too dark to see details +clearly. But, driving slowly, we were aware of a thing that loomed out +of the quiet landscape and seemed strangely foreign to it, as if we were +motoring in Greece or Italy, not Scotland. It was a great classic +temple, rising on the banks of a stream that laughed and called to us +through the twilight. + +"Can it be somebody's tomb?" I asked. But there was no cemetery, only a +garden, and close by a camel-backed bridge that crossed the surging +river. + +"It must be the Burns monument," said Basil. "I've never been here, but +I've studied up the place and looked at maps till I can see them with my +eyes shut. This is the right place for the monument, with a museum, and +some garden statues of Tam o'Shanter and Souter Johnnie, which we'll +have to visit by daylight to-morrow. I hope you're going to invite me to +sight-see with you?" + +"It's not for me to invite any one." + +"Look as if you want to, and it's done." + +"Oh, I'll do that!" I promised. + + + + +VIII + + +We stopped at a big railway-hotel when we came into Ayr. Basil and Mrs. +West took rooms there too, because it was the best in town, and Mrs. +West always wants the very best--except when she's depressed by bad +notices of her books! + +It was late, and she was so faint with hunger that she begged us not to +dress, but to go to dinner in ten minutes. We agreed; but when we'd +hurriedly washed our hands and faces and assembled at the rendezvous, +there was no Mrs. West. Basil was the only one who didn't look +surprised. Ten more minutes passed, perhaps, giving us time to think how +hungry we were too, and then the lady appeared. She hadn't exactly +dressed, but she had done something to herself which made her look fresh +and lovely and elaborate, in contrast to Mrs. James and me. + +"Dear people!" she exclaimed, "I'm so sorry if I've kept you waiting, +but I simply couldn't find a _thing_; and the more haste, the less +speed, you know. Mr. Somerled, you've been here before in your +pre-American days. Do, like an angel-man, show me the way to the +dining-room. I can never get used to going in late, with a lot of people +staring. Basil will take care of Barrie and Mrs. James." + +I felt as if I should go mad and bite something if she were to cultivate +the habit of calling me "Barrie"; but as I'd invited both her brother +and Sir S. to do so, and Mrs. James had never called me anything else, I +couldn't very well make Mrs. West the one exception. + +A good many of the hotel guests had finished dinner by that time, but +twenty or thirty were still at their tables in the big dining-room, +which seemed to me absolutely palatial after my "glass retort." +Evidently we were well in the thick of "tourist zone" again, judging by +the look of the people, for most of them had the air of having travelled +half round the world in powerful and luxurious motor-cars. You could see +they weren't "local"--with four exceptions, our nearest neighbours. I +thought they were pets; but Mrs. West stared in that pale-eyed way I +noticed women have when they wish to express superiority or contempt. + +All four of the pets were old--two very old, two elderly. The first pair +wore bonnets which they must have had for years, things that perched +irrelevantly on the tops of their heads, and looked entirely extraneous. +The second two had something more or less of the hat tribe, and Sir S. +said this was because their elders considered them girls, and granted +them the right to be frivolous in order to attract the opposite sex. +Mrs. West was sure that such headgear couldn't be got for love or money +except in small remote Scottish towns. "Might come from Thrums," said +Sir S. I'd never heard of Thrums, and Basil explained that it was a +famous place in a novel, written by a man of my name, Barrie. "The real +place is Kerrimuir," he went on, and promised to give me the book. + +At this Sir S. glanced our way for an instant, looked as if he +wanted to speak, changed his mind, and turned again to Mrs. West, next +whom he sat, with Mrs. James on his other side. No wonder, I thought, +he liked better to look at her than me, as she was so fresh and +elaborate and charming. All through dinner he talked to Mrs. West +and a little to Mrs. James, leaving Basil to entertain me, which he +did very kindly. Still, Sir S. seemed annoyed because a party of +young American men at a table near ours stared at me a good deal, +though he didn't care to pay me any attention himself. He drew his +eyebrows together and glared at them once, whereupon the nicest +looking of the four (and they were all good-looking) bowed. Sir S. +returned the nod stiffly, with an "I-wonder-if-I-really-_do_ +know-you,-or-if-this-is-a-trick-to-claim-acquaintance?" sort of +expression. + +Perhaps I ought to have been annoyed too, but I wasn't a bit. They were +_such_ nice boys, so young, and having such a glorious time! I was glad +they looked at me and not at Mrs. West, and I was sure they didn't mean +to be rude. Probably they'd seen mother, or her photographs, and were +puzzling over the resemblance which Sir S. and Basil both say is very +strong, in spite of "marked differences." Whenever we speak of her, I +feel as if I could hardly wait till Monday, though at other times the +present seems so enchanting I can't bear to have it turn into the past. + +The American boys (I thought that none of them could be over twenty-one) +lingered at their table a long time after they seemed to have finished +their dinner. They played some kind of game with bent matches which made +them laugh a good deal; but the minute we got up, I heard them push back +their chairs, though I didn't turn my head. + +Basil and I walked out of the dining-room after the rest of the party, +and the boys came close behind us. I heard one say in a low voice, "Did +you ever see such hair?" and I felt a sort of creep run all the way down +my plait and up again into my brain, because I've been brought up to +think red hair ugly, and it's hard to believe every one isn't making fun +of it. However, I remembered what Sir S. said about the flame-coloured +heads of the children in the road, and that stuff Basil wrote in his +notebook about Circe. Then I felt better, and hoped that the boys were +not laughing. + +Outside the dining-room door the handsomest one got near enough to speak +to Sir S. "How do you do, Mr. Somerled?" he said. "Don't you remember +me? I'm Jack Morrison, Marguerite's cousin. I met you twice at Newport +while you were painting her portrait." + +"Marguerite Morrison. 'M. M.,' the grateful model who gave him the +refrigerator basket!" thought I. And Sir S. proceeded to give the cousin +a refrigerator glance; but it didn't discourage him. He went on as +cordially as ever. "My three chums want to be presented: Dick Farquhar, +Charlie Grant, Sam Menzies. We're all Harvard men, seeing Europe in +general and Scotland in particular, in our vacation. We've every one of +us got Scottish blood in our veins, so we sort of feel we've earned the +right to make your acquaintance. And we've been wondering if you'd +introduce us to your friends, if you don't think it's cheek of us to +ask!" + +Sir S. looked as if he did think it great "cheek"; but if he hesitated, +Mrs. West quickly decided for him. She gave the nice American boy one of +her sweet, soft smiles, and said, "Of course Mr. Somerled will introduce +you all to us; or you may consider yourselves introduced, and save him +the trouble. My name is Aline West, and this is my brother, Basil +Norman." + +She went through this little ceremony in a charming way, yet as if she +expected the young men to be delighted; and I too thought they would +burst into exclamations of joy at meeting celebrities. But not a word +did any of the four say about the books, or their great luck in meeting +the authors. Perhaps they were too shy, though they didn't seem shy in +other ways. They just mumbled in a kind of chorus. "Very pleased to know +you both" (which Mr. Norman told me afterward is an American formula, on +being introduced); and when they'd bowed to the brother and sister and +Mrs. James (though she hadn't been mentioned) all four grouped round me. +This was natural, I suppose, because we were more or less of an age. + +"Is this your daughter, Mrs. West?" asked Jack Morrison. "And may we +children talk to her?" + +For a minute that pretty, sweet-faced woman looked exactly like a cat. +She did, really. It almost gave me a shock! I thought, "She must have +_been_ a cat in another state of existence, and hasn't quite got over +it." Not that cats aren't nice in their way; but when ladies in +fascinating frocks, with hair beautifully dressed, suddenly develop a +striking family likeness to Persian pussies robbed of milk, it does have +a quaint effect on the nerves. + +"Miss MacDonald is _not_ my daughter," said Mrs. West, laughing wildly. +"I'm not _quite_ old enough yet to have a daughter of her age, and she's +not such a child as she looks. But _do_ talk to her, by all means. I'm +sure she'll be very pleased." + +"Then your name _is_ MacDonald?" Jack Morrison exclaimed. "We were +saying at dinner how much you look like Mrs. Bal MacDonald, the +beautiful actress. Is she any relation?" + +"Yes, she is," I answered. And I would have gone on to tell him and his +friends that she was my mother, but I saw Sir S. and Mrs. West and Basil +looking as if they wanted to get away, so I dared not go into +particulars. + +"Do tell us about it," said all the American boys together, when I +paused to take breath and think. I should have loved to stop and talk +about mother, but magnetic thrills of disapproval from my guardians +crackled through me. "If you're in Edinburgh next week maybe you'll find +out," I said consolingly. "But now I must go." + +I bowed nicely, and they bowed still more nicely, trying to look +wistful, as if they didn't want me to hurry away. + +We went to a private sitting-room Sir S. had taken, so I suppose he had +invited Basil and Mrs. West; and I thought they would speak of the +American boys, but nobody even referred to their existence. This made me +feel somehow as if I were being snubbed. I don't know why, for nobody +was unkind. + +Afterward, when Mrs. James and I went to our adjoining bedrooms, I asked +her if I had done anything I ought not to have done. + +"No, my dear child," said she, smoothing my hair, which I'd begun to +unplait. "Nothing except----" and she hesitated. + +"Except what? Tell me the worst." + +"There isn't any worst. You did nothing that Mrs. West and I wouldn't +like to do, if we could. I won't go into particulars, if you don't mind, +because it wouldn't be good for you if I did, and might make you +self-conscious--a great misfortune that would spoil what some of us like +best in you. But you needn't worry." + +"Mrs. West looked as if she longed to scratch my eyes out. She needn't +have been so _very_ vexed at my being taken for her daughter. I'm not a +scarecrow, or a village idiot." + +Mrs. James laughed, a well-trained little laugh she has, which seems +taught to go on so far and no farther--like the tune I once heard a +bullfinch sing in a shop. + +"My dear, you're too young and unworldly to understand these things," +she said. "A pretty woman, a celebrity like Mrs. West, isn't pleased +when she expects all the attention of young gentlemen for herself, to +find that she goes for nothing, and all they want is to talk to some one +else. And then, at her age, to be taken for a grown-up girl's mother! I +couldn't help being sorry for her myself. I know what it is to want to +keep young." + +"But you're thinking of Doctor James," said I. "And she's a _widow_. +Besides, she's always calling me a child, and telling me to play dolls." + +"Well, that isn't to say that she wants all the men there are to play +dolls with you," chuckled Mrs. James. + +"These were boys, compared to her. She must be _thirty_." + +"Maybe she's more, if the truth were known. But why should it be known? +Even when we're thirty and--er--a little over--we like to be admired by +boys as well as others. It makes us feel we haven't got _beyond_ things. +Still, she needn't grudge you those lads. She's got the great Somerled." + +"Yes, I suppose she has," I admitted grudgingly. + +I went to bed feeling as if elephants had walked over me for years. + + * * * * * + +Next morning Sir S. seemed to take it for granted that Basil would look +after Mrs. James and me. He certainly put on rather a "kind uncle" air +with me, but the more he did so, the less and less I felt as if he were +my uncle, and the more and more I wanted to have him for my knight--mine +all alone, without so much as a link of his chain armour for any one +else. + +It is strange, as I've thought often before already, how one can get to +feel in such a way about a person one has known only a few days. But you +see, _I've known Sir S. in a motor-car_. I do believe that makes a +difference. Motor-cars vibrate, and you vibrate in them faster than you +do when not in motor-cars; so your feelings travel much faster than they +would in any other way. _That_ must be the scientific explanation of +what I feel for Sir S. + +Here we were in Ayr, whither we'd come to think about Burns and nobody +else (unless, perhaps, Wallace) and this was to be the beginning of a +special little tour, following all along the line of Burns's pathway in +life, from his birth in the town of Ayr, to his death in the town of +Dumfries. We'd hurried through Dumfries almost with our eyes shut, on +purpose not to see where he died, before he was born, so to speak; and I +had thought all this inspiration on the part of Sir S. I fancied that he +had planned it partly for my sake, because of my being just out of the +glass retort. But now he abandoned me to another; and seeing him +entirely absorbed in Mrs. West kept me from dwelling on Burns as much as +I ought. If you are to concentrate your mind on historical characters or +poets, you must clear your brain out to make room for them, whereas mine +was stuffed full of fancies about myself and other people, none of whom +are historical at all yet--except, perhaps, the great Somerled. + +Neither could Basil think exclusively of Burns, as we walked together +through the pleasant town of Ayr, after our early breakfast. He was +absent-minded once or twice, and when I said, "A penny for your +thoughts!" he answered that they were of the book he would like to write +but couldn't. + +"The men I want to write about are boiling with primitive passions," +said he, laughing, "and that won't do for a 'motor-novel.' Not that +people who travel in motor-cars aren't mostly boiling with primitive +passions for one cause or another, every minute. But the critics won't +have it. According to them, characters can experience grand emotions +only when they are keeping still, not when they're being hurled about +the country. The proper place for primitive emotions is in small fishing +villages, or, better still, on Devonshire moors, or, best of all, in the +illimitable desert. So you see the men I have in my mind wouldn't go +down with the critics, because unfortunately they happen to be in a +motor-car." + +Talking of men in motor-cars, at that moment an enormous red car, going +very fast, changed its mind suddenly, stopped short in twice its own +length, and out jumped four men. They were the Americans of last night, +and by this time I had mixed up their names (except Jack Morrison's, +because he was so good-looking, with square blue eyes), but they +labelled themselves over again very neatly for me. The freckled one was +Dick Farquhar; the one with a moustache like the shadow of a coming +event, Charlie Grant; the one with the scar on his forehead, Sam +Menzies; but they had funny nicknames for each other. Afterward Basil +said they made him feel as if his name ought to be Methuselah. + +The boys had been going to Burns's birthplace in their motor-car, but +they asked if they might walk round the town with us, and take to their +auto later. I looked appealingly at Basil, for they were such fun, so he +said, "Yes, of course"; and they were very polite, and called him "sir," +as they had Mr. Somerled the night before. But each time they used the +word, Basil looked as if he were swallowing bad medicine, and yet as +though he were inclined to laugh. Presently, however, he went ahead with +Mrs. James, following his sister and Sir S., and left me to the four +boys. We laughed at everything. I'm afraid it wasn't at all the spirit +to go hero-worshipping; and none of them knew anything about "The Twa +Brigs" of Burns's poem. I should have liked to call Basil and ask him, +but they said they should feel it would be money in their pockets never +to have been born if I "shunted" them like that, so we laughed a great +deal more and went on wallowing in ignorance. They seemed to take it for +granted that I would rather be with them than with the others, and they +paid me all sorts of funny compliments. They vowed that they had +resolved to change their whole trip because of me, and wherever I was +going they would go too; so, just for fun, I would tell them nothing +except that it was to be Edinburgh on Monday. Cross-question as they +might, I would say no more than that they must find out my hotel, and +how I was related to "Mrs. Bal" (as they all called her) for themselves, +if they were to find out at all. + +They knew little more about Wallace than Burns. When we stopped in front +of the monument in the High Street, coming back from the Auld Brig, Jack +Morrison began grandly with "Scots wha hae wi' Wallace bled," but he +could get no farther, and stopped to ask helplessly, "Where _did_ he +bleed, anyhow? Was it here, and if not, why did they put up the +monument?" + +Even I knew that Wallace was born in Ayr; and when I impudently inquired +what they came to Europe to see, if they cared more about football than +history, they all answered that they came to see pretty girls. "And, by +Jove, we're doing it!" added Charlie Grant. + +"Can't you find pretty girls at home?" I sneered. + +"We have found 'em. We're looking for new types now," said Jack. "So's +the great Somerled, isn't he? He told my Cousin Marguerite that he was +going a long journey in search of a model with the right shade of hair, +which was hard on her, poor girl, as she's spent a pot o' money on hers. +But Somerled's a sardonic sort of chap, don't you think? They say his +money's spoilt him. He hardly ever paints nowadays. Too busy grubbing +for millions. I've heard that you have to go on your knees to get him to +do a portrait--and if he graciously consents, you can't tell but he'll +bring out all that's most evil in your soul on to your face, like a +rash. You never know what'll happen with him--except his fee. Nothing +less than ten thousand dollars, if you get off cheap." + +"I don't think he's that kind of a man at _all_," said I, "Why, just to +prove to you that he isn't, he's offered to paint me for nothing!" + +They all roared at this, and wouldn't explain why. I didn't like them +much, for five minutes; but after that I couldn't help forgiving them +again. + +We took the Gray Dragon for Alloway and for Burns's birthplace, but the +boys jumped into their car and kept close behind us. Hardly had we got +into the tiny thatched house--once a mere "clay biggin"--where Burns was +born, than the four appeared on the scene. Mrs. West was scarcely civil +to them at first, until Basil whispered (only in fun, of course, but she +took it seriously, as she often does when people think they're being +humorous), "If you're nasty to those boys, it will be a bad +advertisement. They won't read your books or tell their friends they're +the best books going!" She was quite kind and elderly-sisterly to them +after that. But nice boys as they are, it did grate on me having them +make jokes every minute, even about that wonderful, pathetic little room +with the railed-off furniture and curtained wall-bed. + +Luckily I had been reading about the cottage and everything else +concerning the Burns family while I dressed. I knew already how Burns's +father built the tiny house with his own hands; how the night that +Robert was born, a fearful storm came up which threatened to sweep away +the whole biggin; and how the poor young mother had to be hustled off to +a neighbour's cottage. How little the poor couple guessed that the baby +born "in thunder, lightning and in rain" would make of the clay biggin a +world's shrine, to be bought by the nation for four thousand pounds. +Maybe it cost five pounds to build. How I did want to believe that from +one of the bowls kept on a shelf in that room of the wall-bed Burns had +eaten his porridge as a child. Of course that would be almost too good +to be true; but he did eat his porridge in that room, anyhow--and often +wanted more than he could get. What brains of genius have been nourished +on porridge and oaten cake in this country of ours! I felt more than +ever proud of my Scottish blood as I stood in that low-ceilinged +cottage; and I wondered if Sir S. had the same glorious thrill. I didn't +know if he had ever before come to Ayr; but I did know that his first +home on our own island of Dhrum must have been much like this--just a +clay biggin with a but and a ben. He, too, was born a genius. He, like +Burns, knew grinding poverty. He, too, was taken up by great ones and +dropped again, for he has told me so. + +Once Sir S. was near me for a minute--without his Aline--and I did want +some word to prove that I was still his princess, he my knight. But all +I got from him on the subject was: "Well, do you think the knights +'notice' that you're a princess?" + +I stared, bewildered. Then I remembered our conversation in the car, +before Mrs. West came and annexed the front seat. Of course I knew he +meant the American boys. + +"They notice that I'm like my mother," said I. + +"Oh, is that all?" And he laughed. Then Mrs. West flitted over to ask if +we oughtn't to go to the museum. + +It is a pathetic little museum, with intimate relics and countless +pictures of Burns, each one making him look entirely different from all +the others. By and by we went on to the monument, the strange classic +temple that had loomed out of the twilight as we came to Ayr. The road +from town to the monument was the way of Tam o' Shanter's wild ride, or +almost the same; only there's a tram-line now to spoil the romance, if +one chooses to let it be spoiled. As for me, I'd scorn to let romance be +broken by an object so dull as a tram-car. When things are ugly I simply +make them transparent for my eyes, and see through them as if they +didn't exist. + +I had to do a good deal of this juggling in the neighbourhood of the +monument; for the booths bristling with Burns souvenirs, and the tea +gardens where crowds drink to Burns's memory in ginger pop and fizzy +lemonade, would be rather dreadful if they were not funny. I'm sure, +though, Burns's sense of humour would make him laugh a mellow, ringing +laugh: if he could see those thousands of bottles of temperance drinks +being emptied in his honour. + +It was good to escape from the gay, meretricious gardens to the +graveyard of Alloway Auld Kirk, where Tam o' Shanter's witches danced, +and where Burns's father lies buried. There was peace, too, where the +Brig o' Doon arched its camel-back over a clear brown, rippling stream. +There, through the singing of the water, through the playing of an old +blind fiddler scraping the tune of "Annie Laurie," I could hear the true +Burns song, the music of his thoughts sweetly ringing on, to keep the +world young, as the bright water leaps on forever to give its jewels to +the sea. + +We went back from Alloway to Ayr, and lunched early in our own hotel. +The boys lunched early too, and when we started out on the next stage of +our Burns pilgrimage, we saw their red car panting in front of the +hotel. I had heard no talk of new plans for Basil and Mrs. West, but +they must have talked things over with each other or Sir S., for +Blunderbore was vibrating healthily between the Gray Dragon and the Red +Prince. I could have jumped for joy when I saw Blunderbore, and kissed +him on his bonnet. Already in imagination I was in my old place on the +front seat of our car, beside my knight; but the first words of Sir S. +snatched me off again and left me dangling in mid-air. + +"Sure your motor's all right again?" he inquired of Basil. + +I held my breath for the answer. + +"Yes, thanks, quite all right." + +"You know"--and Sir S. turned to Mrs. West--"we're delighted to keep you +as our guests." + +"You _are_ good," she answered, "but--we mustn't wear out our welcome." + +"Don't be afraid of that." (I did so wish I could have been sure whether +his tone was eager or only cordial! Probably Mrs. West was wishing the +same.) + +"Thanks a thousand times, but we'll sample our own car for a while. We +shall meet and exchange impressions. And perhaps--after Edinburgh----" + +She broke off, leaving the rest to our imagination. Mine was so lively +that it gave my heart a pinch. I could see what she meant as clearly as +if she had held a photograph before my eyes: me, with mother, waving +good-byes from a hotel door; she and her brother transferred permanently +to the Gray Dragon, the Row forgotten; Blunderbore's nose turned meekly +back toward Carlisle; Mrs. James out of the picture. Just for an instant +I could have cried. Then I reminded myself for the twentieth time that +in a few days _nothing_ can matter, because I shall have my own dear, +beautiful mother, who will make up to me for everybody and everything +else. + +I don't know how I should have borne it if Mrs. James had wanted to sit +in front, but the angel didn't. And presently there was I in my old +place, feeling as if weeks instead of hours had elapsed (yes "elapsed" +is the most distance-expressing word) since I last sat shoulder to +shoulder with Sir S. + +That feeling of long-ago-ness made me a little shy, and to save my life +I couldn't think of a word to say except about the weather; so I said +nothing at all, and he said the same. By and by I began to count. When I +had got up to five hundred, and still he hadn't spoken, I knew I should +certainly burst if nothing happened before a thousand. + +"Well?" he murmured at last in an isolated way. + +"Five hundred and eighty-six," I counted aloud inadvertently. + +"Eh?" said he. + +"I was just seeing how many I should have to count before you spoke." + +"H'm! I'm afraid you do find me a dull companion after all your latest +acquisitions. But what can I do? In a way I'm your guardian temporarily. +I can't let you run about the country alone with hordes of young men. I +may seem selfish; but I have done my best for you since other and +younger knights came upon the field." + +"That _is_ hypocritical!" I flung at him. "You shed me on others because +you like the society of a grown-up woman better than mine; and then you +pretend you're doing it for my sake. I _like_ that!" + +"I thought you would like it. That's why I did it." + +"Not because you wanted to talk to Mrs. West?" + +"Oh, of course I like talking to her. Don't you like talking to her +brother, and all that drove of boys?" + +"Why--yes, I like talking to them well enough, but----" + +"But what?" + +"You ought to _know_, without telling." + +"I don't know. Are we playing at cross purposes?" + +"How can I tell, if you can't?" + +"How can I, if you _won't_?" + +"Oh, don't let's argue about nothing! Let's be happy--perfectly happy." + +"In other words, if milk has been spilt, don't water it with salt tears, +but leave it to collect cream." + +"Yes. Why doesn't everybody treat spilt milk like that?" + +"It doesn't occur to poor worried humanity. It wouldn't occur to me in +other society--Princess." + +"Thank you, Sir Knight." I couldn't resist nestling my shoulder closer +to his in joy and gratitude: and then an odd thing happened. A tiny +shock of electricity seemed to flash through his shoulder to mine. I +never felt anything like it before. It made my heart stop and afterward +beat fast. I had to talk of something irrelevant in a hurry, so I +grabbed at Burns: and indeed we ought not even for a minute to have +talked of any other subject on this road, which we were exploring only +because of Burns. Not that the high road between Kilmarnock and Dumfries +wouldn't be worth seeing if Burns had never set foot on it, and if no +other great ones had passed that way. It would be worth travelling for +itself alone, for every mile has its own special beauty. And the more I +think of Scotland the more I tell myself she is like a wise connoisseur +(I hope that's the word!) who goes ahead of others to a sale of splendid +pictures, and secures the finest for herself at a bargain. Several of +the prettiest pictures hang on the blue-and-gold walls of the Burns +country. + +We came suddenly into view of Arran when the car had spun us along an up +and down road to Ochiltree and Cumnock. It was I who, looking back, +first caught sight of the jagged pinnacles boldly painted in purple on a +far, pale sky. I didn't know what they were, but Sir S. put on the +brakes quickly, and let us stop to look. He remembered the cliffs, and +gazed at them with a light in his eyes which would have told me, if I +hadn't known before, that he had been homesick for Scotland all these +rich, successful years, whether consciously or not. + +By and by we came to the Nith, which afterward we did not leave; and +through a green glen wound the "sweet Afton" Burns wrote of and loved +almost as dearly as he loved its elder brother. Here in this valley, +companioned with his own starry thoughts, he walked and rode, happy in +his fellowship with Nature, even though poverty made him an exciseman at +fifty pounds a year. He had to put down smuggling with one hand and +write his glorious poetry with the other, as Mrs. James expressed it. At +New Cumnock he would spend a night sometimes on his way to Ellisland, +his "farm that would not pay," near Dumfries. + +Always following in the track of Burns, the Gray Dragon dashed up and +down short, steep, switchbacked hills (which must have tried any steed +of ancient days except a witch's broomstick) and whisked us into +Sanquhar, the "sean cathair" or "old fortress" of earliest Gaelic times, +now snappily called "Sanker." There Queen Mary rested, going to +Dundrennan after the terrible battle of Langside; there Prince Charlie +marched; and there was a monument of granite to the Covenanters Cameron +and Renwick. Burns must have dreamed of Queen Mary when duty brought him +to Sanquhar; and Renwick would have been a person to appeal to him, +because of his youth and good looks, and because the "pretty lad" was +the last martyr to the Covenant. But perhaps he thought most of all of +that Admirable Crichton who was born at Sanquhar, not in the castle of +his wild and brilliant family, but at Eliock House. Burns would maybe +have liked him not so much for taking his degree at St. Andrews when he +was twelve, or for knowing ten languages and many sciences, as for +wandering adventurously over the world, winning tilting matches at the +Louvre, and the love of ladies at Padua and Venice. + +Mrs. James had bought a book with quotations from a diary of Burns, and +she read out to us while the car stopped at Sanquhar what he had written +about one specimen day: + +"Left Thornhill at five in the morning. Rode four miles to Enterkinfoot +and made a call: thence three miles to Slunkerford with another call: +thence six miles to Sanquhar, where there were twenty official visits to +be made: thence two miles to Whitehall, with two more calls: and a +return journey to Sanquhar, finishing the day's work at seven in the +evening." + +Poor poet. But he had always his glowing fancies to keep his heart warm. +We felt almost guilty because we had no horrid calls to make, as he had; +nothing to do but enjoy the scene made magical by his love of it: the +valley with its near green hills and distant peaks of Galloway and +Lowther; the river girdling wooded reaches with a belt of silver, or +burrowing through deep rocky channels, purple as heather petrified. It +was all as different from yesterday's Crockettland as if we had crossed +the ocean from one to the other. + +At Carronbridge we saw the woods of Drumlanrig on our right hand; and +Sir S. told me about the Duke of Queensberry who spent all his money in +building the splendid castle, slept in it one night, saw the bills for +it, cursed himself and it, and went away with nothing left but a broken +heart. "Deil pyk out the een of him who sees this," he wrote on the back +of the biggest bill. + +There's a Burns museum at lime-tree-shaded Thornhill, but I refused to +go in and stare at an original cast of his skull. I do think a man, +especially a great genius, ought to be allowed the privacy of his own +skull! + +Closeburn is the place where the Kirkpatricks, the Empress Eugenie's +family, used to live before they went to Spain. At Auldgirth we went +over a bridge built by Carlyle's father. At Mauchline Burns grew from a +boy into a man and fell in love. At Ellisland, Burns lived for a long +time with his handsome wife, Jean Armour. At Dalswinton the first +steamboat made its first trip, and Burns was on it. All round us now was +Scott's "Red-gauntlet" country; and the bridge crossing the Nith at +Dumfries was built by Devorgilla. There was something to see and think +of every minute; and in fifty-nine miles we had followed Burns's whole +life-story on its slow way from Ayr to Dumfries. Only--we couldn't +follow his thoughts to the stars! + +We had stopped many times; still it wasn't yet five o'clock, and we had +time to see all that's sacred to Burns at Dumfries, the "Fair Queen of +the South," as Sir S. called it, quoting I don't know what. + +First we went to the house in Bank Street where Burns came when he left +Ellisland, and had seventy pounds a year to live on instead of fifty--a +sad and grim little house, where in the wee closet that was his study we +could hear the music of the Nith, but catch no sparkle of its water. He +had hardly air enough to fan the fire of genius, yet it went on turning +brightly because nothing could put it out. If it was a sad house to live +in, it must have been even sadder to die in. He'd have liked his last +look to be on sky and meadow, or he would not have said in his "Song of +Death": + + "Farewell, thou fair day, thou green earth and ye skies, + Now gay with the broad setting sun. + Farewell, loves and friendships, ye dear tender ties! + Our race of existence is run." + +I found those words in the Poems bound in tartan which Basil had bought +for me in a fascinating bookshop at Ayr and I read them in the room +where the poet died. Afterward I was glad to see in St. Michael's +churchyard a great many of the "loves and friendships" resting near him +in his long sleep. Their presence consoled me for the mausoleum which +nobody can admire nowadays, or think worthy of him. Almost, I would +rather have had him lie under one of those strange, enormous tombstones +like stone cupboards or tables which clutter the graveyard. + +While we were trying to find the burial-place of Napoleon's doctor, and +some martyrs and cholera victims Mrs. James was interested in, Mrs. West +and Basil appeared, and then the Americans. Sir S. looked horribly +bored, when he saw the four tall, brown, nice-looking boys, and asked me +quite fiercely if I'd given them permission to follow us every step of +the way. I snapped back, "No, of course not!" And immediately he said, +"Forgive me. If you had, after all where would be the harm?" + +There was no time for more. We had to say, "How do you do?" to Basil and +Aline; and then the boys surged round us, in their high spirits rather +like big Newfoundland puppies sacrilegiously racing each other among the +graves. They had been reading up history on purpose to please me, they +announced, and were ready to bet five pounds against a glove that they +knew more than I did. Was I aware that Dumfries meant "fort in the thorn +bushes?" Had I learned that the British Christian chief, who was the +real King Arthur, fought with pagan Saxons all along the Nith. Did I +know it was in Grayfriars, or the Minories Church, that Bruce killed the +Red Comyn, Devorgilla's grandson? + +They won the glove; and then there was a scene when they took a penknife +and cut it up in four pieces, one for each man. I tried to keep them +from being so foolish, but might as well have tried to stop the wind +from blowing; and it was no wonder that Mrs. West turned her back on us +rather than see those dreadful boys ostentatiously stowing away the bits +of gray kid in what Jack Morrison called their "heart-pockets." + +I was afraid Sir S. might think it was my fault, their coming to stay at +the pretty hotel he'd chosen for us because it overlooked the river; but +it wasn't a bit. It was just as much a coincidence as Mrs. West and +Basil finding three Canadian friends already there--perhaps even _more_ +of a coincidence; for it didn't seem to me that Mrs. West was really +astonished at finding these people at a Dumfries hotel, or they at +finding her and Basil. I was there when they met in the hall: two rather +handsome dark men, brothers, named Vanneck, and the fair, thin little +wife of the younger one. All they said at first was, "Well, this _is_ +nice! How do you do?" And it struck me afterward, when I thought it +over, that if it had been a great surprise, they would have mentioned +it. I wondered if they hadn't corresponded and arranged it somehow, for +they appeared to know each other very well, and to be the best of +friends, especially the elder Mr. Vanneck and Mrs. West, who called each +other "Aline" and "George." After dinner it turned out that she had been +inviting the Vannecks to go on to Melrose and Edinburgh in Old +Blunderbore, without consulting the chauffeur-owner of the car. He +thought the load, with extra luggage, too heavy for Blunderbore's +powers; consequently Mrs. West threw herself on the mercy of Sir S. She +asked if the Gray Dragon could take Basil, and the Gray Dragon's master +quietly said yes. + +After Mrs. West had walked with Sir S. in the churchyard of St. +Michael's, he seemed very thoughtful and a little gloomy, even stiff in +his manner with me. At first I felt it must be that she had said +something to change him toward me, but again I told myself that that was +a silly and far-fetched suspicion. It was more likely that he +disapproved of my "larking" with the American boys and giving them a +glove to divide in bits. Afterward, too, when they turned up at our +hotel, he might easily have thought I'd encouraged them to follow us +again. + +I hoped for a chance to put that idea out of his mind, but next morning, +starting for Melrose, Vedder had the place next Sir S., and Basil, Mrs. +James, and I were all three together behind. + +We started before Aline West and her friends the Vannecks (her special +one is a widower, very rich, who has proposed several times, she told +Mrs. James); but the four boys waited for us to get off again, so they +might know where we were going; and I began to be almost angry, because +of the wrong impression their nonsense was making on Sir S. It had been +so good to get him back yesterday that it was worse than ever so see him +slipping quietly away once more. + +If it hadn't been for these worries, it would have been a wonderful day. + +From Dumfries we ran up and down nice scallopy hills, crossing the Annan +at a place named Beattock, for Moffat, where there are sulphur wells a +girl discovered two hundred years ago, and made the fortune of the town. +Then there was a lovely road along Moffat Water, with a succession of +wild green dells and hillsides cleft with fern-choked ravines. Still we +were in Burns's country, for by Craigie Burn lived Jean Lorimer, to whom +he wrote love-songs; and a little farther on was the scene where "Willie +brewed a peck o' maut." The next bit of beauty was associated with the +Ettrick Shepherd (I can't bear to think of his name being Hogg), for he +wrote a Covenanter story, "Brownie of Bodesbeck," about a mountain we +could see hovering in the distance. + +All Moffatdale looked a haunt for fairies, so no wonder it is cram full +of legends; and if I had been sitting with Sir S. I should have begged +him to stop and let us scramble up a rocky path to the haunt of a pale +spirit disguised as a waterfall. The Gray Mare's Tail is a disguising +name, too, for there is nothing gray about it, but all white as +streaming moonlight; and Sir S. and I together might have stood a good +chance of finding the rainbow key, sparkling on some cushion of +irridescent spray. We missed the chance, however; and who knows if it +will ever come again? + +Basil had bought a volume of Scott's poems for me, to match the Burns's +and he found in "Marmion"--where he knew it existed--a verse about the +torrent: + + Issuing forth one foamy wave, + And wheeling round the Giant's Grave, + White as a snowy charger's tail + Drives down the pass of Moffatdale. + +So already we were coming into Scott's country. I remember Birkhill, +because it's the watershed between the Moffat and the Yarrow, and the +word "watershed" goes through my mind with a musical white rush, like a +cataract. It suggests beautiful faraway things. Besides, there's another +reason for remembering. Close by, at Dobbs Linn, the Covenanters used to +hide in the time of the great persecution. + +We swept through some bare, bleak country before coming to the Yarrow, +but the rover brought us back to gentle, cultivated land, with thoughts +of her favourite Wordsworth for Mrs. James; and soon we came to a very +famous place, Tibbie Shiels's Inn. I had never heard of it, but that +doesn't take from its fame! Basil and Mrs. James could both tell me how +Scott, and Christopher North, and De Quincey, and a long list of other +great men, used to meet at the house kept by Mrs. Richardson, "Tibbie," +who outlived all the noble company, and was buried at last in the same +churchyard with the Ettrick Shepherd. + +By and by our road dropped down and down to the shores of lonely St. +Mary's Loch (Scott wrote of it in "Marmion"), and at the end of the +still lake to Dryhope Tower, where brave Mary Scott, his ancestress, +"The Flower of Yarrow," had her birthplace. + +So we went on to Selkirk on its hill overlooking Ettrick Water, and +stopped just long enough to buy some of the celebrated "bannocks" for +our picnic luncheon later on, and to have a glance at the statues of Sir +Walter Scott and Mungo Park, the African traveller. Basil pretended to +be shocked because I had never heard of him! "And you had never heard of +Aline and me till you met us," he sighed, shaking his head. "I suppose +you never heard of the sutors of Selkirk, either? The burly sutors who +'firmly stood' at Flodden when other 'pow'rful clans gave way'? Well, +I'm glad, anyhow, that we aren't the _only_ people you'd never heard +of!" + +Basil seemed very happy, and kind, and _understanding_, somehow, as if +he saw that something was not quite right with me, and he wanted to +console me as well as he could. + +Sir S. had managed very clearly about not letting us stop to look at the +town of Burns's death until we'd seen the place of his birth and traced +out the path of his life-story; but he couldn't contrive the same kind +of trip for Sir Walter Scott's country without going over the whole road +twice. Besides, he wanted us to see Melrose by moonlight, and said it +would be "incomparably better than Sweetheart Abbey." But I knew it +wouldn't be better for me, and I didn't quite forgive him for thinking +it possible, now that we had got so mixed up with irrelevant people. + +We had to go to Jedburgh first, the place farthest south; then to +Dryburgh; then flashing through Melrose to Abbotsford, where Scott died +as well as lived; and then back to Melrose for the night. That was his +plan; and I still supposed that we were to go on somewhere else next +day--Sunday--not arriving in Edinburgh till Monday. But it seems that +Sir S. had made up his mind to a different programme, though he said +nothing about it then. + +Things happened to the boys' car on the way to Jedburgh, though the road +was good, and only undulating. Basil said that, as a matter of fact, he +had "ill-wished" them and their auto, and as "thoughts are things," he +had created the nail on which their tire came to grief. "Somerled and I +want to be the only ones," he added mysteriously. "We'll have no +interlopers." Which would have made me think him rather a frivolous +person, after all, if he hadn't been so well up in the lore of the road, +and known so many interesting things about Jedburgh, the county town of +Roxburghshire. + +"If we curse a mere nail on a white velvet road-surface nowadays," said +he, "think what the roads must have been like when Jedburgh had a royal +castle, and kings and queens were travelling about from one of their +houses to another! Think what Queen Mary must have had to endure, even +bringing things down to modern times, comparatively. She stayed in +Jedburgh town, in an old house in Queen Street--came for assizes, I +think. Then, while she was there, bored to death, she heard that +Bothwell was 'sick of a wound' at Hermitage Castle, over twenty miles +distant. In an hour she was on her palfrey and off to see him, falling +into a morass on the way. But she got back again that night, rather than +her good subjects should say she neglected their affairs. She fell ill +with fever after her exertions. What wouldn't she have given for a +motor-car? But how she would have been bumped and bruised if she'd had +one, though the roads were grand then compared to the state they'd +fallen into after the Romans marched out of Scotland. Imagine the early +kings and queens with their processions passing where we pass now; and +armies returning from battle with their prisoners; and bands of pilgrims +going to some sacred shrine; and robber hordes moving at night; and +wild-beast shows on the way from one fair to another. Can't you see the +panorama?" + +I could, easily, picture after picture. But when you come to think of +it, he'd mentioned nothing as curious as motors, which we take quietly +for granted, just as our forefathers took the wild beasts and the +robbers. + +We had a glimpse of Burns's "Eden scenes on crystal Jed," though only +enough to be aggravating, for Basil said there were prehistoric caves, +and scenery enough to make a journey to Scotland worth while, if one +came for nothing else. But people in motor-cars never seem to turn aside +for anything. They go toward their destination like creatures possessed. +So, although Jedburgh is supposed to be the most historic town of the +Lowlands, we hardly looked at it in our haste to see the Abbey, and to +rush on to other Abbeys--a dayful of Abbeys! Not that Jedburgh put +itself out to attract us. It had rather a grim air as a town, as if it +hadn't quite forgotten the fierce slogan of the Jedburgh men, who +shouted "Jethart's here!" as they wielded the terrible Jethart axes +invented by themselves. And one isn't allowed to go inside Queen Mary's +house to see the tapestry her ladies worked. + +I wished to think no abbey so beautiful as Sweetheart Abbey, which was +my first, and seen on the first night of the heather moon; but I had to +tell myself that Jedburgh was lovelier, in its garden on the river-bank. +Dreaming of its own reflection, its hollow, window-eyes could see, deep +down under a glass, all its own history and legends preserved forever as +in a crystal casket; the story of saintly King David who built it, and +of the French friars who left their own Abbey at Beauvais to people it; +better still, of the wedding with the spectre guest--the marriage of +little French Jolette to Alexander, the last of the Celtic kings. +Perhaps, too, the window-eyes peering into the crystal could see the +figure of Sir Walter Scott, seeking and finding inspiration in the +Abbey's old tales. + +Basil, who told me the stories, read in a book that "Jedburgh is +completer than Kelso or Dryburgh, and simpler and more harmonious than +Melrose," so when the four boys appeared at last in Dryburgh Abbey, +having calmly missed out Jedburgh and Kelso to save time, I used the +criticism as if it were original, with great effect; for by that time +_we_ had made a side dash to see lovely Kelso, where Sir Walter went to +the Grammar School, and met Ballantyne, who long afterward published his +novels and brought about his bankruptcy. I heard also, read out from the +same book, that the stone of Dryburgh was taken from the quarry that +built Melrose, and that the name Dryburgh meant "Druid." Even the boys, +I think, could hardly help feeling the mysterious, haunting charm of the +place, which was as strange and secret as if the dark yew trees and +Lebanon cedars guarding the ruins were enchanted Druid priests. There +was a Druid urn, too, which looked as if it knew all the secrets of the +ages, and had held sacrificial blood. + +I could imagine Sir Walter Scott coming to Dryburgh again and again, and +loving the hidden spot so well that he wanted to sleep his last sleep +there. Such a peaceful sleep it must be with the Tweed singing out of +sight, and yews old as legend to play lullabies upon their own +harp-strings when the wind touches their dark, rustling sleeves. + +The song of the Tweed at Abbotsford was the song of Inspiration, +changing to the song of Fulfilment in the master's passing hour. Now, at +Dryburgh, the river veils itself like a mourner, and its song is the +Sleep Music which has in it the secret of death and of life beyond. I +stood for a minute alone in front of the tomb where Sir Walter's body +lies with those he loved best, in the place he loved best, and +transparent green shadows like the spirits of shadow hid me from the +sunlight. While I shut my eyes, I could understand the message of the +song. And I knew that if my knight had been with me it would have come +to him in the same way, because we are both of the land where the old, +old secrets of wind and waves and rock are in the blood of the people, +and sung by their bards. It is perhaps the mysterious kinship of far-off +ancestry which draws me to him, and tells me that we two belong +together--that others stand outside as strangers. + +Just then I felt that it would have been worth the bother of being born +only for the sake of that minute, if I had no other minutes worth +living; and it seemed that some knowledge was coming back to me which +souls forget as bodies grow up to manhood or womanhood. But suddenly +Basil's voice broke the Music. "You look as if you were conjuring up the +White Lady of Avenel, who will come to any one who knows how to call +her, here at Dryburgh," he said. And I opened my eyes as if he had +jerked me back by the arm from the days of the Druids to the era of +motor-cars. And so he had--by the ear, not the arm. If Sir S. had spoken +to me then it would have been different. I begin to think he is going to +be the only Real Man in my world. But if I find that out, and he doesn't +think me the only Real Girl, what will become of me? + +After we had done what Mrs. West, in her pretty little tinkling voice, +called "exhausting Dryburgh" (as if one could!) we went to Melrose, only +four miles away, to leave our luggage at a nice hotel and take rooms for +the night, before going on another mile and a half to Abbotsford. I +little thought what a surprise I should have by and by, owing to this +plan of action mapped out by Sir S. + +The next thing that happened to us was seeing the many turreted house +built by the "Wizard of the North," when his wish was to found a great +Border family. He didn't realize then that he was founding a great +school of romance and that all the world would be his family in mind and +heart. + +A book Basil had, said that the house was "ill-placed," but to me that +seemed a dull and unimaginative criticism. Nowadays people may think a +great deal about wide views from their windows; and if I ever build a +house with a fairy wand, that's what I shall choose to have myself. But +perhaps in Sir Walter's day the thing most sought for was a peaceful, +sheltered outlook all to yourself and your family, like a secret garden +of which only you had the key. Just such an outlook the Wizard had from +his windows; and of course what he most wished for was to bring the +singing Tweed into his secret garden, just as you coax a lovely wild +bird, if you can whistle its own notes, under the trees it loves. + +Perhaps if Sir Walter had not been able to look out over his flowers and +hay-scented meadows to the friendly river, inspiration might have failed +him in his troubles. But, you see, he had that secret garden of his +soul; and when he was there it must have walled him into a region of +peace where worries could do no more than knock at the door. + +Wandering over the big house with Mrs. James and Basil (the boys in the +background), I was glad, glad that Sir Walter had owned so many +treasures, and collected so many curiosities; yet I felt an undertone of +sadness even in the library (where the twenty thousand books are, given +back by those decent bodies, his creditors), a sadness like that which +must have pressed on his spirit, thinking of all the money he had paid +for his home, and the beautiful things in it--all the money he would +have to make out of his brain to clear away the debt. "When I do build +my house, I shall have a gallery like this in the library," I said, +thinking Basil was close behind me, as he had been; but instead, there +was Sir S. standing silently by. Basil had gone into the study, or +perhaps into the tiny "Speak a bit," to look at the wall-panelling taken +from Queen Mary's bed at Jedburgh. + +"That's just what I was thinking about my library," Sir S. answered, as +if I had spoken to him. + +"Haven't you got one yet?" I asked. + +"Only an embryo library in a flat in New York--a rather nice flat. But a +flat isn't home. And you know--you ought to know--the house of my heart +is on a faraway island." + +"The island of Dhrum?" + +"Yes. I've just begun to realize that I never have had and never can +have a real home out of the Highlands. Would you think me an +interloper--you and the other grand MacDonalds--if I, the crofter's boy, +should develop an ambition like Sir Walter's--oh, not so worthy or +splendid, because _I'm_ neither worthy nor splendid--if I should wish to +have the great house of the MacDonalds of Dhrum, not let to me for a +term of years as it is now, but bought and paid for as my own?" + +"Can the MacDonalds sell?" + +"Yes, and will, if I'll pay his price. You see, he has no son, only a +daughter; and she, having failed to bring off a match or two----" + +(I didn't let my eyes twinkle, or my face do that weird thing, "break +into a smile"; but Jack Morrison told me that Miss MacDonald had "set +her cap at the great Somerled," and torn it off and stamped on it in +rage because--this is Jack's slang--Sir S. "wasn't taking any.") + +--"Having failed to bring off a match or two, has settled down into +old-maidhood. She's an enthusiastic suffragette, and hates living out of +London. The Mac of D. considers his club his castle, or a good deal +better; and as he's the last of the line--not a male heir, no matter how +distant--he can do as he likes with his ancestral stronghold. You know, +I suppose, your father was born at Dunelin Castle?' + +"Yes," I said. "I wish I'd been born there, instead of at Hillard +House." + +"So do I wish it. If you had been, I should have no hesitation +in--er--in building the gallery round the library wall." + +"You think you really will decide to buy the castle?" I asked +breathlessly. + +"Sometimes I think so. At other times I think, _Qui bono?_ I say to +myself that I shall never have a home, or an incentive for settling +down. But come along and look at Sir Walter's treasures before any one +else appears." + +"Where's Mrs. West?" I asked involuntarily. + +"She's annexed your bodyguard for the moment--do you mind?--appealed to +their innate love of horrors by showing them the picture of Queen Mary's +head, painted an hour after her death by a brother of Margaret Cawood, +her attendant. Suddenly I felt that, if Basil could spare you to me for +ten minutes, I should like to be the one to show you a few things--the +things I loved best when I came from Edinburgh to Abbotsford with a bit +of the first money I ever earned by my brush." + +I turned on him, opening my eyes wide. "Basil spare me!" I echoed +scornfully. "I'm not his princess, even if you don't want me for yours." + +"I do want you. But----" + +"Oh, here he comes!" I whispered, shrill as a cricket. "Take me to see +_your_ things, quickly." + +So we ran away from Basil, and I had one of the happiest hours I have +ever lived through; although the sight of Sir Walter's neat clothes in +the glass case--the thick-soled boots, the broad-brimmed hat that +covered his thoughts, the coat that covered his heart--brought tears to +my eyes. + +Next best, I liked the bit of Queen Mary's dress, the pocket-book worked +by Flora MacDonald, Prince Charlie's "Quaich"--the cup with the glass +bottom to guard the drinker against surprises--the ivory miniatures Sir +Walter and his French bride exchanged, and the Rob Roy relics. Perhaps +it is odd, but they were the very things Sir S. had remembered most +affectionately. Last of all he showed me a toadstone amulet set in +silver, a charm to prevent and ward off the spells of fairies. "If I +could have had a thing like this to carry about with me in my +motor-car," he said, "I should perhaps have been safe. But it's too late +now." + +He smiled at me with that whimsical yet kind smile which is the only +sort he ever gives me since Mrs. West and Basil and the boys came. +Before their day, there was a different look in his eyes. I can't tell +what that difference was, but I liked the old look a thousand times +better than the new, which makes me feel I may as well go into a +convent. Not that I intend to do so! + +Just then Basil came to say that his sister and the Vannecks were going, +as Aline was tired; and would Sir S. tell her what time we were to see +the Abbey. Basil and I were left together--quite as usual, lately. He +made some rather nice poetical remarks about the house at Abbotsford: +how marvellously it expressed the personality and tendency of Sir +Walter's mind; and how it seemed to him that here was the true heart of +Scotland embalmed in spices and laid in a shrine, just as Robert Bruce's +heart lies at Melrose. I hardly listened, though, for I was wondering so +much what Sir S. would have gone on to say about the amulet if Basil had +let us alone a minute longer. But fairy fancies were in the air, in one +form or other. As we walked up the narrow path which would bring us to +the motor, Basil told me a dream he'd had the night before. "I thought," +he said, "that I was a humble reincarnation of Thomas Ecildoune--Thomas +the Rhymer--and that I was walking in the Rhymer's Glen--it isn't far +out of this neighbourhood, you know--when a Vision in a magic motor-car +came sprinting down the steep curve of a rainbow. In front of my feet, +the Vision contrived to stop the car, or in another second it would have +run over me. Out she stepped and announced that she was the Queen of the +Fays, whom I would remember meeting before in my last incarnation, in +the same place. Strange to say, she looked exactly like you--and I must +add, she acted exactly as you do." + +"Why, what was it she did?" I couldn't help wanting to know. + +"She heartlessly vanished, just as I began to hope she might remain and +become my muse. You always vanish--and generally with another man." + +We both laughed, and were laughing still when we came up with Mrs. James +and Mrs. Vanneck, Mrs. West and Sir S., who were ahead of us with the +others. + +It had to be sunset and moonlight together for Melrose Abbey, for the +heather moon was still too young to be allowed by Mother Earth to sit up +late, all alone in the sky. This was not the "pale moonlight" Sir Walter +wrote of, and looked to for inspiration in his "Lay of the Last +Minstrel," but a light of silvered rose which seemed made for love and +joy. I thought, if an alchemist or magician should pour melted gold and +silver together in a rose-coloured glass, and hold it up to the sun, it +would give out a light like this. It might have been an elixir of life, +for it gave back the Abbey's youth, and more than its youthful beauty. +The bullet-shattered stone turned to blocks of pink and golden topaz, +and each carving stood out clear, rimmed with sapphire shadow, as we +wandered round the cruciform Gothic ruin, our feet noiseless on the +faded velvet of the grass. Even in the darkest shadow there lay a ruby +flush, like a glow of fire under a thick film of ash; but inside the +Abbey was a soft, gray gloom, as if evening hid in the ruins waiting its +time to come out. The Trinity window, the Calvary window, the window +with the Crown of Thorns, and the east window in the chancel, which Sir +Walter loved best, were all sketched against the sky in tracery of sepia +and burnt amber, as I heard Sir S. saying to Mrs. West. And though I +shouldn't have known what colours to use, because I'm not an artist, I +could see that the tall stone shafts were like slender-trunked trees +crowned with high clusters of branches, as in pictures of desert palms. +I wondered if the men who carved the stone had travelled in the East and +had seen palm trees rising from pale sand, black against a paler sky. +And I wondered, too, if queer knots and fantastic holes in the gray +trunks of oak had not put into men's minds the first idea of gargoyles. + +Sir S. and Basil, who have been almost everywhere, agreed that they had +seldom seen such marvellous detail of carving, so many whimsically +planned and exquisitely carried out irregularities, or such lovely, +well-preserved sandstone. That quarry which gave the material for +Melrose and Dryburgh was a treasure-mine, and even the Romans knew and +valued it. I was quite glad to find those two-agreeing about something, +because ever since Basil joined us they have differed politely over +nearly every subject that came up. + +We had been deeply occupied with Michael Scott's supposed grave, and the +story of the "dark magic" by which he divided into three, Eildon Hill, +in whose caverns Arthur and his warriors still sleep their enchanted +sleep; and so, when some strangers approached us, we didn't even look +up. A very intelligent custodian, who has written a book about the +Abbey, was showing us round at that moment, and telling things about Sir +Ralph Evers, whom the Douglases killed for revenge, on Ancrum Moor, and +all about the pillar with the "curly green capital." He had saved the +Douglas Heart for the last, as the crowning glory in the history of +Melrose; but when we'd done some sort of justice to everything else, he +marched us into the presbytery where the Heart is buried, and where, +according to his theory, it is commemorated in the carved stone tracery +of the window. + +A man with his back to us turned as we appeared, and I interrupted the +custodian's learned discourse by crying out the name most sacred in the +Abbey. "Mr. Douglas!" I exclaimed; for it was he--the Douglas +soldier-man who was so kind, taking us all round the castle at Carlisle. +He said we might meet at Edinburgh, as he was soon to have leave, and +intended to visit relatives there, but it was a surprise coming on him +in the shrine of his ancestors. + +I thought, of course, his arriving at that minute was an extraordinary +coincidence; but when Sir S. shook hands, and asked in a matter-of-fact +tone, "How is it we meet here?" he confessed, as if half ashamed, that +it wasn't exactly an accident. "You see, I often come to Melrose for a +look round if I'm in Scotland on leave," he said, "and I saw in the +paper yesterday that you were motoring in this neighbourhood, expecting +to call at Dryburgh and Melrose before Edinburgh." + +"Ah, yes--that interview Aline gave a journalist acquaintance of mine at +Dumfries," I heard George Vanneck murmur to Basil, who looked rather +cross. + +"I arrived at the hotel just after you'd been there to leave your +luggage and sign names in the visitors' book," Donald Douglas went on. +"They said you were motoring over to Abbotsford, and would come back to +see the Abbey later; so it occurred to me, if I strolled over about this +time, we might run across each other." + +"Quite so," remarked Sir S.; an expression I detest, it sounds so like +filing iron, especially as he said it then. However, the soldier-man +didn't appear to mind in the least that the Great Somerled was stiff and +unsympathetic. He attached himself to me, as I was his only other real +acquaintance, except Mrs. James, in the party; and of course, as he +reminded me, we were very old friends--as old as the day we first saw +each other in the street at Carlisle, years and years ago. + +He seemed to know as much as the custodian about Melrose and the Douglas +Heart--which was natural, as he so values everything connected with his +family name. He told me all about the good Sir James Douglas: how King +Robert Bruce when dying begged his friend to take his heart to the Holy +Land, and bury it where he had wished to go and fight for Christendom as +an expiation for killing the Red Comyn. It was as good as a chapter out +of a novel to hear how the Douglas got permission from the new king to +be gone seven years on his great adventure; how he heard on his way to +Jerusalem that King Alfonso of Spain was fighting the Saracens at +Granada, and couldn't resist offering his help, being sure that Robert +Bruce would have done the same; how in battle against Osmyn, the Saracen +king, he was hard pressed, and taking the casket with Brace's heart in +it from over his own heart, he threw it far ahead of him in the enemy's +ranks, shouting, "Pass first in fight, as thou wert ever wont. Douglas +will follow thee or die!" And how he did both follow and die, but +falling only when he had killed many Moslems and hewed his way through +their bodies to where the heart lay. + +"That's the old story of the Douglas Heart," said the soldier-man, "and +there's a new story of the Douglas Heart I hope you'll let me tell you +some day before long, because it's even more interesting--to me." + +"Why, then, I expect it will be to me too," said I politely, "so why not +tell it me now, in Melrose Abbey, the place of all places?" + +He looked at me in an odd way, and said, "Yes, it _is_ the place of all +places; but I'm afraid it's a little too early in the day----" + +Just then Basil came up to announce that Mrs. James had sent him to +fetch me, as we must return to the hotel and dress. + +"Too bad!" I exclaimed. But as Sir S. was not far off I called to him, +"Don't you think we may come back here again after dinner?" + +"Certainly, if you like," he answered. "Although the moon will have +gone." + +"That doesn't matter," said I; "there will be stars. Mr. Douglas has a +_new_ story of the Douglas Heart to tell me, which he thinks is even +more interesting than the old, and it ought to be told in the Abbey." + +When I explained this, Donald Douglas turned bright scarlet, and all +three of the Vannecks burst out laughing, which I thought extremely rude +and uncalled for. But Sir S. looked as solemn as a judge. + +"No doubt he's right about it's being more interesting, and quite as +credible," said he. + +I don't know whether Mr. Douglas would have asked Mrs. James and me to +walk over to the Abbey with him after dinner or not, if the weather had +kept fine, but a thunder shower came up and it poured. So, although I +teased him again to tell me the new story, when everybody but Mrs. James +and he and I were playing bridge in our private sitting-room, he +refused. "I'll wait till Edinburgh," he said, "if you'll let me see you +there." + +I had to explain that I didn't know where I should stay in Edinburgh, as +that would depend upon my mother, to whom Mr. Somerled MacDonald was +taking me. + +"And Somerled himself, and the others?" he asked. + +"Oh, they're going on," said I, "leaving me behind." + +He looked delighted; so perhaps he had not forgiven the Vannecks for +laughing. + + + + +BOOK III + +BASIL'S PLOT AND "MRS. BAL" + + + + +I + + +Will the time come, I wonder, when I can calmly "work up" these things +into a plot? If so, I foresee that I shall have to toss a coin to decide +on the casting of my own part in the story. Heads, I am hero; tails, I +am villain. But it has always been a theory of mine that ninety-nine out +of a hundred novels are unjust toward some of their principal +characters. Each (alleged) villain ought to have his motives and actions +explained from his own point of view, not according to that of the (also +alleged) hero and heroine whom he possibly tries (with success or +failure) to separate. If this were done in books, villains _qua_ +villains would practically cease to exist; for it seems to me, in my +experience of life as a man and a writer, that no normal, healthy +villain is a villain in his own eyes. To understand all is to pardon +all; and in analyzing his motives in order to justify himself to +himself, he sees from every point of vantage, he knows how necessary +certain actions are which appear evil to the limited view of the hero +and heroine. They see him always obliquely, in profile; therefore they +are prejudiced. And what is doubly unfair to the poor villain, the +author of the book sympathizes with the others from first to last; +whereas, if the villain were allowed to explain himself in his own way, +not the author's, he would stand in the centre of the picture. Not being +prejudiced against himself, he would have a chance of appealing to the +readers' sense of justice. + +Unfortunately for me, I have a way of seeing two sides of a question at +once, even when my own interests and those of another are violently +opposed. This is a kind of moral colour-blindness; for to be +colour-blind means merely that your eyes give you an impression of red +and green at the same tune, so that you can with difficulty tell which +is which. Both kinds of colour-blindness, moral and physical, handicap +you for success in life. On the whole, I think the moral sort is the +more inconvenient of the two. If you saw nobody's motives but your own, +you would be able honestly to detest your enemy and work against him. +You would then be happy and successful, because of your complete +self-confidence. It is seeing the enemy's point of view, and +sympathizing in spite of yourself with him, which upsets you. + +That has been my state of mind ever since I was a small and +over-sensitive kid who wouldn't watch a terrier worry a rat because +something made me put myself at once in the rat's place. Wiser boys +called me a milksop and various other names, which I furiously resented +yet inwardly recognized as just. Also they kicked me at times, and +bashed me on the nose. I did my best in wild tempests of rage to kick +and bash them in return, and now and then I gave them back as good or +better than I had from them. But if I saw their blood flow, that same +ridiculous Something which went out to the rat sickened within me, and +was sorry. + +I understand myself rather well, when I'm not in the grip of emotion; +but at present my eyes are blinded. I feel so intensely for myself and +for my sister that I'm not sure whether I act as I do more for her sake +or my own. Probably, however, it is for my own. And, curiously enough, I +dimly see past this brain-storm and heart-storm to some day of calmer +weather when it may still be possible to make use of myself and her, +and--the others, as "material." I don't know if I shall do this, yet it +may happen; and sometimes, even now, these disturbing incidents take +form in my mind as scenes for a future book. I suppose this shows that +the writer in me stands in front of the man. Some day I shall see myself +clearly again one way or the other. + +It was going to be a pleasant little story, this Scotch romance Aline +and I had planned. I knew all the people in it intimately, and was in a +hurry to pick the lock of their prison with my pen, for they were +impatient to get out and begin to live and move. I thought Aline was +almost as much interested, though she never gets into such wild +enthusiasm over a new book that she can hardly wait to write it. She's +too well-balanced, and has too many outside interests, as a very pretty +and popular young woman should have; whereas, since the joy of writing +saved my life, it has always been first with me--until the other day. + +With Aline, the mischief began on shipboard--or perhaps a little before, +though I realized then for the first time what was happening. + +I have great faith in Aline's charm. I've seen several clever and +important men go down before it; but somehow I felt doubtful about +Somerled. If Aline has a lack--I may admit it here--it is temperament. +Possibly I have a touch of what she misses. And until I began to write, +I often wished to be without it. Anyhow, I can see that, sweet and +delightful as she is, a man of temperament might in exalted moments find +a note flat in the music of companionship. + +Somerled has, I should think, spent at least ten years in trying to bury +his temperament under layers of hard common sense. But all the time it +was there, like boiling hot lava under a cold crust; and when Aline told +me how he valued their friendship, I wondered whether she were right, +and just how deeply his admiration of her was rooted in his heart. I +wondered if she were the type of woman he would want, not only for a +friend, but by and by for his wife; and caring for Aline as I do, I +worried about her affairs a good deal, apart from the influence they +were likely to have on the book. Still, I confess I thought as much +about the people in the story I had in mind as I did of my sister--if +not more, at that time. + +Then, the night Aline and I had our big talk about Somerled, the Girl +came. And that was the end of the book for me too. + +If some time I grow callous enough to write her into a romance (she'd +fit into nothing else), I doubt if I could make clear the extraordinary +and instantaneous effect of her on all those she approaches. + +It isn't only her looks, though she's beautiful, as some blithe sprite +met by chance in a forest. It isn't only her youth, for she is too +absurdly young. A girl, to be taken seriously by a grown man, should be +at least one-and-twenty. She is, I believe, on the lilied edge of +eighteen. Ridiculous! Yet where she is, other women, also beautiful and +also young, are dimmed like candles that have burned all night when a +window is flung open in the face of sunrise. Something in her eyes, her +smile, the turn of her head, the light on her lashes and the shadow +under them, the way she catches in her breath when she laughs and looks +at you, the curl of her hair and the colour and fragrance of it, call to +the deeps in a man. I defy any man to resist her completely. I have +watched men in the street as I walked with her, or in hotel dining-rooms +as she came in. Be they old or young, weak or strong, grave or gay, +intelligent or dull, at sight of her the same pagan light of romance +springs into their eyes. Mysterious and irresistible as the lure of the +Pied Piper is the lure of this child who knows nothing of her own power. + +She is a true daughter of Nature, but--she is also the daughter of Mrs. +Bal. + +Can Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald have been such a one when she was +eighteen? No, in spite of the haunting, almost impish likeness, I'm sure +she cannot. But I think Somerled wonders, and that now and then the +relationship and the resemblance creep between him and his instinctive +perception of truth in the girl. + +She came to us with Somerled on the night of our first sight of her, +leading him as Una might have led her lion. + +It was a blow to Aline, a blow over the heart, and I felt it for her on +mine. She managed her affairs badly next day, but I didn't blame her. I +couldn't. Somerled and I had already lost our heads. + +I scarcely believe Somerled was in love with the girl then; perhaps he +isn't even now. He merely felt the call of youth, and a strange beauty +and a stranger vitality. His life needed this call. It waked up the +sleeping youth in his own heart. It set his old enthusiasms singing like +birds uncaged. It made him want to be again all the things he had +decided not to be. It brought back beliefs in realities that he had +feared were illusions. In other words, it freed the temperamental artist +and dreamer from the spoilt and successful millionaire. But he could +have let the bright vision go, perhaps, and have been pleasantly +contented later to remember it, if--it hadn't been for Aline. Because +she wanted to part them and make him forget the girl's existence, she +took the very way to throw them together. Then, when she had done her +worst, she turned to _me_ for help. + +I was horribly sorry for her, and the keen hurt of my sympathy made me +fear for myself. The girl had got hold of me too, of course. When I +found that she was going away from us with Somerled, I felt physically +sick with the sense of loss. It was as if, with Barrie gone, everything +was gone. I knew that poor Aline must be suffering exactly the same dumb +tortures in regard to Somerled, whom she had thought so nearly hers. And +that is why, when she begged me to help--somehow, anyhow--I wasn't sure +whether I promised to please her or myself. + +I was able to do very little toward keeping the promise, either way, +until Edinburgh. It was there, really, that Aline and I first seriously +took up the role of villains--if we are villains. But two persons less +well cut out by Nature for such parts can hardly exist. We want to be +good and happy, and we want each other to be happy, and all those whom +we love to be happy; but we want them to be happy with us and through +us. This is where Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald comes into the plot. Without +her, nothing could have happened as it is happening. + +I shall never forget that first scene between the girl and her mother. I +knew it would not be recorded in that poor little "book" of Barrie's, +which every day she was writing and hiding. I thought that the book, +which had no doubt been leading up to this scene, would probably stop +short at the last sentence breathing hope of it. + +Not that I have seen what she wrote. It was I who put the idea of +writing into her head; but, though she didn't guess it, that was only +done to give myself the right of Mentor when I still supposed we should +all start gayly off together for Edinburgh from Carlisle. I suggested +that she and I should "collaborate." Ha, ha! I believe "ha, _ha_," by +the way, is an ejaculation confined entirely to thwarted villains in +stageland; but if I am a villain, I'm not thwarted yet. + +Aline's attack of temper, which upset everything, upset that scheme +among the rest; but it seems the impulse I gave, pushed Barrie on to +achieve something literary. Only, she steadily refused to let me see a +line she wrote. The sole pleasure I got out of her taking my advice was +in Somerled's face when I teased the girl about her "work." If he had +been teaching her to sketch and paint I should have felt the same. + +He is afraid of himself, because she has captured his thoughts; and +afraid of her, because she's Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald's daughter. When +he sees her followed by a trail of young men, like a bright comet with a +tail it's been busily collecting in a journey through space, he asks +himself whether this is going to be Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald over +again? He wonders if he dare believe in the kindness of Barrie's smiles +for him, or whether his portion is no better than those she deals out +gayly to the rest of us. At least, this is as I judge him, though from +the first we've exchanged no confidences on the subject of "Mrs. Bal" or +Barrie her daughter. + +Somerled knew Mrs. Bal in America. I never made her acquaintance, but I +saw her act in Montreal every night of her engagement there. I couldn't +keep away--yet I didn't want to meet her. I thought perhaps if I did I +should be ass enough to fall in love. That is the truth. A good many +fellows of my acquaintance, and others I'd heard of, had fallen in love, +and had been flirted with till the lady was sick and tired of them. +After that they were very sorry for themselves. I never heard anything +else against Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald, and I don't believe there's +anything worse to hear, than that she's a spoiled, flattered, selfish, +and self-centred beauty, who expects every man to fall down before her, +and generally gets what she expects. + +None of us talked much to Barrie about her mother, though at first she +was continually bringing up the subject. We knew she thought of it +constantly: that beneath all her joy in escape from bondage, in +motoring, and in her adventures in beautiful, historic scenes, there was +always that undertone--"When I meet my mother." And we too felt the +strain of suspense, though in a different way--at least, Somerled and I +felt it. I could see it often in the peculiar darkening of his face when +anything happened to suggest the idea of the mother in the background. +As for Aline, I suppose it was but natural her only interest in Mrs. Bal +should be, "How will her reception of the girl affect me, if at all?" + +Aline's arranging to pick up the Vannecks at Dumfries gave her the +excuse she's been longing for ever since the quarrel, to get me into +Somerled's car, though she didn't wish to seem as if she were forcing +herself upon him. Perhaps he might have found some way of shuffling out +of it, but in St. Michael's churchyard at Dumfries she asked if he +didn't think the "little romance a very pretty one?" He inquired what +she meant. She appeared amused at his denseness--"so like a man!"--and +said, "Why, what could I mean except dear Basil and little Barrie? I +didn't know _any one_ could help seeing! But don't say anything, please. +It might nip the orange-blossoms in the bud." + +She told me this afterward, because I had to know if I were to "live up +to it." And I'm afraid by that time I was ready to live up to it, +whatever the consequences might be. That is enough to explain why +Somerled without hesitation invited me to migrate into his car when +Aline had filled up Blunderbore with a party of three guests. He might +even then have kept Barrie in her place beside him, or have appointed me +to it; but that wouldn't have been Somerled as I see him, saying to +himself, "Let them have each other's society, since that's what they +want. I don't know what _I_ want, or whether it's best for her or me +that I should want anything." + +Right or wrong about his state of mind as I may be whatever it was, he +surrendered to me with an air of grave kindness which put on again the +several years he had thrown off in the last week. (Yes, it was only a +week that had made these changes for all of us!) Sitting with Barrie and +her good friend Mrs. James (great character, that little woman: must use +her in a book sooner or later), I knew just how passionately the girl +was looking forward to the "surprise" meeting with her mother. My nerves +were as tense as hers--even more tense, it may be, for I was like one +behind the scenes, knowing what she did not know. I felt so sure the +"surprise" was going to turn out differently from what she pictured that +I had a sense of guilt whenever I saw her smiling dreamily. I was +continually wondering what would happen, and what she would do when it +did happen. And I had the impression that Somerled constantly brooded +over the same subject, asking himself the same questions. The happier +the girl was, the sorrier we both were for her, silently, without +telling each other, and the more we wished to save her from any +suffering to come. I knew that I could read so far into Somerled's +thoughts, where they kept to the same road as mine; but I doubt if he +were conscious of any fellow-feeling with me. I was to him only the most +deeply infatuated and the most seriously in earnest of Barrie +MacDonald's rapidly accumulating string of ridiculous young men. + +Sympathy and curiosity, tossed together in an indistinguishable mass, +made a confused omelette of my emotions as we spun along that lovely +wooded road past Galashiels and into Edinburgh. I wanted to witness the +first meeting of mother and daughter, yet I dreaded it. I didn't see how +I could decently contrive to be "on" in that scene, yet I felt it would +be too bad to be true that it should be enacted in my absence--almost as +monstrous as that the world should be able to get on with me out of it. + +It was Somerled, of course, who settled that his Gray Dragon (Barrie's +name for the car) should arrive at Edinburgh on Sunday morning instead +of Monday. He didn't trouble himself with intricate explanations, merely +remarking that a Scotch Sunday was a bad day for travellers, apart from +their religious conventions. If they hadn't any, others had; and those +others were the very ones with power to make backsliders uncomfortable. +They could close abbeys and museums, and they could shut the doors of +inns in hungry faces at meal-times. "Besides," he finished, without a +smile, "I took over the job of guardian _pro tem_ from Barrie's +grandmother, and I'm sure Mrs. MacDonald would wish her granddaughter to +go to church on Sunday." + +Barrie opened her eyes at this speech. Probably she'd never heard any +talk of theology from Somerled, and was puzzled by his sudden interest +in her spiritual decorum. I guessed that he wanted to give her the +brilliant spectacle at St. Giles as a surprise on his last day of +guardianship, but it occurred to me also that there might be other +reasons in his mind for cutting short the tour. He might be tired of me +as a guest thrust upon him. He might be sick of the American boys, and +the soldier, Barrie's latest collected specimen (the Douglas youth also +is travelling _en automobile_), or he might have reflected that it would +be well to find out in advance where Mrs. Bal meant to pass her +Edinburgh week. He must have realized that such a spoiled pet of society +was as likely to visit admiring friends as to put up at a hotel. + +We left Melrose a little before eight o'clock, promising Aline and the +Vannecks (who hate getting up early) to engage rooms for them at the +Caledonian Hotel. We had forty-six miles before us, but the Gray Dragon +bolts a mile as a dog bolts an oyster, and as it was too early for many +other dragons of his kind to be on the march, Somerled did a little +discreet scorching through the lovely green and gold and purple +landscape, past Galashiels, Stow, and Heriot. This haste--which didn't +mean less speed--gave us time for a detour of a few miles to Rosslyn +Chapel, which it would have been a shame to miss. + +I wish I knew more about architecture! I thought Rosslyn a gem, and +should have described it as a thing of unique perfection; but Somerled, +who knows all about such things, said no, it was far from right +artistically, though beautiful in spite of faults. My description would +briefly be: whole chapel like great carved jewel-casket for a queen; +ornamentation simply dazzling in intricacy and delicate detail; +extraordinary pale rose-flush in shadow on stone pillars, which have the +rich cream tints of carved ivory. No two alike: Spanish spirit visible +here. Reminded me of detail in Burgos Cathedral. Nice story about the +Prentice's Pillar. I looked it up when I found we were going to Rosslyn, +and told it to Barrie before Somerled had a chance to open his mouth. +Showed her the sculptured head of presumptuous man who dared finish the +column according to design of his own, while this master was +unsuspectingly studying up ideas for it in Rome. She thought the pillar +more beautiful than the "horrid master's" work, and almost cried to hear +that the prentice had died from the mallet-stroke of the jealous +avenger. Barrie with tears in her eyes is a danger to beholders. She was +particularly adorable just then, as her hair was wet with rain (our +first rain) and curled on her forehead in little tendrils. This rain, by +the way, came on worse later, and was perhaps the original, if indirect, +cause of what might be called our villainhood--Aline's and mine. + +We were pretty well drenched getting from Dragon to Chapel and from +Chapel to Dragon, though the distance was nothing, but the downpour +severe. Then, we three passengers were safely housed in the closed car +while Somerled and Vedder the chauffeur had the full benefit of the +storm. They were protected by a glass screen, but the waterspouts seemed +to find them out, and Mrs. James and Barrie were so sorry for the two +men that I felt a "luxurious slave" to cringe in shelter while others +soaked. + +Vedder, by the way, interests me as a type. I thought Aline and I had +used up nearly all possible types of chauffeurs, but he's a new one, and +may prove valuable in case of future need. I understand that he was +distinguished in his remote past as a prize-fighter, then as a Cockney +coachman in London. Somerled rescued him from something or +other--prison, probably, judging by the shape of his nose (think it must +have been broken and mended in absent-minded moment by amateur) and the +look he gives me occasionally from corner of eye--like vicious horse +cowed by owner and dangerous to strangers. Barrie and Mrs. James think +him such a "quiet, nice man." It is not their business to judge +character, luckily for their illusions. My opinion of Vedder--who looks +exactly like the frog footman in Tenniel's illustrations of "Alice in +Wonderland"--is that he's a smouldering volcano. He never speaks unless +absolutely necessary, then uses as few words as possible, but his +thoughts seethe in language unfit for publication except where his +worshipped master is concerned. He also, in his way, is a victim of +Barrie MacDonald. He has mentally apportioned her to Somerled, as spoil +of battle. His vicious wall-eyes regard with distrust and hatred other +male creatures who dare to contend for the prize. If he could arrange an +accident to the Dragon without injuring it (an idol only second in his +heart to Somerled) or any one under its wing, except me and himself, I +feel sure he would risk his own bones for the sake of cracking mine. As +for my sister, he does not approve of her. In looking Aline-ward, his +face seems to become perfectly flat, like a slab of stone, features +almost disappearing, except his slit of a mouth. "Nice, quiet man! So +contented with his uncomfortable perch at his master's feet!" But--when +the slightest mishap befalls the Dragon, and his services are needed as +doctor or surgeon, he lets bottled-up steam escape. Without a word, he +sets to work like a demon, accomplishing what he has to do in about half +the time our best chauffeurs have taken. I should not be surprised at +any moment to see ears, eyes, and nose emit lambent flames. Chauffeurs +are a strange race, and Vedder is the strangest of the lot. + +Drawing near Edinburgh, and encountering the first tram lines, it was +pretty to watch Barrie's excitement. To understand, one had to remember +that this was by far the biggest town the child had ever seen, so that +even the outskirts impressed her as something stupendous. + +As if for her pleasure, the rain stopped. "The nice, quiet man" +uncovered us pampered passengers, and as we went on again, Edinburgh the +beautiful, lying before us like a shadowy blue and purple map, began to +take shape as a city of spires and monuments and gardens, and reveal its +unique marvels. At this moment, I had my uses. Though it was my first +sight of the Athens of Great Britain, I've fagged it all up so +faithfully for the book that I know what everything is and what most +things mean. I ventured to point out the Salisbury Crags, and Arthur's +Seat watching over the town and Castle like a guardian lion. It was all +very well for Barrie to come to Edinburgh to find her mother, but I +didn't want her to miss realizing that she was entering perhaps the most +beautiful city in the world, and one of the most historic, after Rome. I +knew if I didn't give her this impression Somerled would, and wickedly I +wished her to be primed by me before he got his chance. The only trouble +was that I hadn't enough time to make her see fully all the glorious +contrasts which ought to strike the mind at first sight of Edinburgh, +where Yesterday and To-day gaze at and criticise each other across a +gulf material and imaginary. Even though Somerled brought the Dragon +down to snail's pace, I couldn't do the subject justice, with my best +eloquence snatched at random from notebooks. Mrs. James would keep +interrupting with quotations from "the doctor's" famous unfinished MSS. +I would almost have preferred the silent Vedder as a chaperon. But there +was some comfort in the certainty that Somerled was envying me the place +to which I'd been appointed by himself. As he was driving through +traffic, and couldn't glance round, he was unable to see how Barrie's +eyes wandered from the points I indicated to others which she selected +for herself. + +My dramatic announcement, that where now rises the solid gray mass of +old Edinburgh once crouched the wattled houses of the first inhabitants, +scarcely caught her attention. She would gaze dreamily at Arthur's Seat, +because Mrs. James had just unfolded a meretricious legend to the effect +that King Arthur used to sit there and watch his troops. And the dark +crag of the Castle, with its thousand years of history, its crowning +walls and towers, its chasms of purple shadow, riveted her fancy when I +would have discoursed on the modern charm of Princes Street--that "half +a street" so much more splendid than any whole street ever planned. + +"The doctor told me, I remember," said Mrs. James, "that at the end of +the eighteenth century, when they wanted to build the new Edinburgh, +they had to bribe people by giving them large tracts of land in order to +make them move out of the old town, or they wouldn't budge. Sometimes a +quarter of what they presented to one man in those days is worth a +hundred thousand pounds now." + +In spite of the girl's excited admiration of the goddess-town, her first +question on getting out of the car was to Somerled about her mother. "I +think, if she stops at a hotel, she's likely to choose this one," he +said. "That's why I've brought you here." + +"Thank you," she answered. "Thank you for everything." Then it was my +turn to envy him. + +She was pale, her face drained of colour, and extraordinarily spiritual +as she stood in the big hall, waiting to hear what Somerled would be +told at the desk. He came back soon, and announced that Mrs. Ballantree +MacDonald had engaged a suite at this hotel, but it was not known +whether she would arrive that night or on Monday morning. + +"Meanwhile, I've taken a room for you adjoining Mrs. James, as usual," +Somerled said. "When your mother arrives and you have met, she can make +any new arrangement for you she chooses." + +"And you--will go on--with the others?" asked Barrie, catching her +breath in that engaging way she has when she is excited and trying to +control emotion. + +"I shall go on--sooner or later," replied Somerled. "But--I shall have a +look round Edinburgh first, and see what has happened to my old haunts." + +I thought her face brightened. + +"Aline and I must 'do' Edinburgh too, of course," said I. + +She smiled, but as if she were thinking of something else. And it was +then that suddenly, for the first time, I felt capable of developing +into an able-bodied villain--in fact, committing any crime which could +transfer from him to me the kind of look she had given Somerled. + +"I must of course go back to Carlisle and my work, as soon as I have +paid my respects to Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald," remarked Mrs. James. + +"We'll talk of all that to-morrow," said Somerled, who, I suppose, +engaged her at so much a thousand words--I mean, so much a day--as +chaperon for his "ward." "Whatever happens, you must see Edinburgh while +you're here. And besides, it's on the cards that I may be able to give +you a pleasant little surprise before you leave Scotland. I rather hoped +for details of it to-day; but there's nothing interesting in the mail +they handed me at the desk" (he said this like a native-born American), +"so we must have patience till to-morrow." + +"A surprise!" echoed Mrs. James, looking quite pretty and young, as she +surprisingly does sometimes. "Does Barrie know?" + +"No," said Somerled. "Barrie doesn't know." + +There was just time to go to our new rooms and make ourselves +respectable for church, no light thing in Scotland. Aline and the +Vannecks hadn't turned up yet, but, knowing them and knowing +Blunderbore, I thought nothing strange of the delay. Aline's game was, +of course, to make Somerled jealous of George Vanneck, her old and +well-worn chattel, whom she at heart despises, and to seem not too eager +for his (Somerled's) society, while I, attached to his party by special +arrangement, could protect her interests--and my own. + +Somerled had ordered Vedder to wait with the Dragon when the luggage +had been taken down, and thus we saved ourselves some minutes +which we should have lost in walking. We left the car as soon as +possible, however, and plunged into the beauty and squalor of the High +Street on foot. I annexed Barrie as a companion, and Somerled did not +fight for her. Quietly he contented, or seemed to content, himself +with Mrs. James, and my impression was confirmed that, whether he +wanted Barrie or not, he was deliberately standing aside in my favour, +giving me my "chance"--perhaps to test Barrie or me--or both. Who could +tell? Not I. Somerled is hard to read, even for a professional +character-vivisectionist. + +"Are you too much excited, and taken up with thoughts of your mother, to +care about all this?" I asked the girl. + +She admitted that she was excited, and perhaps a little absent-minded; +but "all this," as I called it, was too wonderful not to capture her +interest in spite of everything. + +"Think of Queen Mary and her four Maries, and Darnley, and Rizzio, and +Bothwell, and John Knox passing along as we pass now, on their way up to +Holyrood?" said I. + +"Yes. Oh, yes! I _do_ think of them," she answered obediently, her eyes +straying into the shadows of wynd or close, or tracing out the detail of +some carved gargoyle on an old facade. + +"Only you think of yourself more----" + +"Not myself exactly. But----" + +"What then?" + +"Well--one thinks of queer things in a place like this, full of romances +and--and love stories. I was wondering----" + +"Yes. Don't be afraid to tell me. We're fellow-authors, you +know--brother and sister of the pen." + +"That's it! Brother and sister, aren't we? How nice!" + +"Of the pen," I amended hastily. + +"Story writers must know all about love," she hesitated. + +"We do," I encouraged her to go on. + +"Then how, if you were writing a story (I'm thinking I may want to do +one), would you make a girl sure whether she'd fallen in love with +somebody?" + +"I should make her," I answered cautiously, with an earthquake in my +heart, "I should make her feel--er--a sort of electric thrill when he +touched her, or looked into her eyes. I should make her feel that +nothing was worth doing unless the man was with her." + +"I know!" the girl murmured. "She would feel, wouldn't she, as if he +_must_ be there--as if she just couldn't go on living if he weren't." + +"That's it," I said. "You've described it graphically." + +She regarded me with sudden suspicion. "Thank you very much," she +replied primly. "I'll take your advice and have it like that in my +story, if I ever write it. What a _wonderful_ old street this is! It's +full of ghosts of kings and queens, and noblemen and great ladies, and +soldiers and robbers, every one of them more important than the people +we see." + +I couldn't tempt her back to the dangerous subject and soon I prudently +ceased to try. But she had given me what I've heard described as a +"nasty jar." Barrie MacDonald wouldn't have appealed to Basil Norman for +a definition of love if she'd thought of him as a man and not a brother! +The side of me nearest my heart hated Somerled, marching on ahead, +looking singularly attractive and gallant, much too interesting for a +mere millionaire. And the side of me which has telephonic communication +with my brain liked and approved of him, understanding how and why his +personality made a strong appeal to most women. "You've had pretty well +everything you've asked life to give you so far," I said to his back, +"but this girl isn't your kind of girl. It's my sister you ought to +want." + +Suddenly, as we drew near to the crowned church of St. Giles--the old +High Kirk--there came to our ears the skirling of pipes. Barrie started +and stopped. Somerled glanced round quickly, his eyes keen. Would she +prove her Highland blood? Would her heart beat for the pipes? That was +the question in his look. + +The girl was taken by surprise. We others knew what we had come for, and +what to expect. She had no idea, except that she was being conducted +decently to church. + +At the first wail of the pipes the blood of her ancestors sprang to her +face. She clasped her hands together, listening in silence to the +barbaric music, her lips apart, her eyes aglow. And all this for the +call of the pipes! Not yet had she caught her first glimpse of the +pipers; but an instant later the tall figures came swinging proudly into +sight, plaids swaying like tartan tassels, kilts moving with that +wave-about-to-break rhythm given to their garments only by inspired +pipers. + +Even I felt a thrill as if each nerve in my body were a string drawn +suddenly taut, but I was gloomily conscious that the Celtic souls of +Somerled and Barrie felt more than I was capable of feeling, a +mysterious something which drew the two together at this instant. +Physically, I stood between them, but I knew that my body was no +obstacle to the lightning flash between their spirits. + +Not a word said one of us as the goodly company of soldiers swept by in +a rich-coloured cloud of their own music. But when all had disappeared +into the church, Somerled and Barrie looked at each other. His eyes +praised her for a braw and bonnie lassie who had responded in fine style +to her first-heard pipes, her first-seen kilt; yet his lips had nothing +to say but, "Well, what do you think of them?" + +"Think?" echoed Barrie. "I think it's perfectly unbelievable how any +girl can ever marry a man who isn't a Highlander and has no right to the +kilt!" + +There was one for Somerled and one against me; but it only got my blood +up. Many a girl says a certain thing, and does another when her time +comes. + +"If I were rich," she went on, "I'd live in a castle in the Highlands, +and I'd have it _full_, simply _swarming_, with pipers, playing me awake +in the morning and to sleep at night." + +"I should like you to see your own castle of Dunelin at Dhrum. There are +plenty of pipers there. I've kept them all on, meaning them to play for +me some day," said Somerled, who had just then forgotten, I think, the +existence of myself and Mrs. James, and failed to observe that in the +distance all Miss Barribel MacDonald's missing young men were +assembling, as if to the call of the blood--the soldier from Carlisle, +who had collected a friend, and the American contingent of four. + +"My own castle?" Barrie repeated. + +"You know what I mean. It would be yours if you'd been a boy. As you +aren't----" + +"It's yours!" laughed she. + +"Not by right of blood. Only by right of money." + +"Well, that's the sovereign right," she insisted, pleased with her own +pun. + +Then the victims of our miniature Circe arrived in the foreground, shook +hands, bandied jokes, and became the most prominent figures in the +picture. For the first time I was glad to see them, nor did I bear the +youths ill-will for separating me from our beneficent enchantress in the +stately church with historic banners. They had separated her from +Somerled as well. + +After service was over, we stopped only for a look at the stones which +mark in the pavement the old Heart of Midlothian, and then hurried back +to the hotel, escaping the Americans, but clung to by Douglas and his +cousin, another Douglas, who hospitably bade us all to visit him at all +his houses. He mentioned several, dotted about in various parts of the +country; but when he heard that Miss MacDonald was retiring from the +party in a day or two, he ceased to press the general invitation. + +There was news of Mrs. Bal at the Caledonian. A maid had arrived who +thought that her mistress would not follow until the evening: Somerled +asked Barrie, therefore--rather wistfully, I thought--if she would care +to go out again in the afternoon. "It will make the time pass for you," +he added. I sympathized with him against my will. It was to be his last +day of "guardianship," yet he was generous enough to invite me; and not +only that, but to let me sit in the car with Barrie and Mrs. James, on +the way to Arthur's Seat. After this effort, however, human nature had +its way, and he kept her to himself for the rest of the afternoon. It +was the first time he had done this since I fastened myself upon the +party. To-day, it was evidently by deliberate intention, not accident. +It was as if he said to himself, "These last hours shall be mine." And I +wondered if indeed he actually meant them to be last hours. For my part, +I certainly meant nothing of the sort. Mrs. Bal, or no Mrs. Bal, Aline +or no Aline, Book or no Book, I didn't intend to walk out of Barrie's +life without trying to win a foothold in it for the future. + +If I had an opinion on such matters, I should have said, up to a week +ago, that I didn't approve of marriage for a girl under twenty, as she +couldn't possibly know her own mind; but Barrie is the kind of exception +to prove any rule. She ought to have a man to take care of her. + +Before five we started back, for Mrs. James thought Barrie needed a nap. +It appeared that she hadn't slept the night before, owing to the +excitement of suspense; and now "her eyes must be bright for their first +look at her mother." + +Drawn up at the pavement in front of the hotel as we slowed down was a +big blue car, and another smaller one close behind, both of the same +make, and evidently belonging to the same people. We had to choose +between waiting for them to disgorge passengers and unload luggage, or +get out at a distance from the entrance. We took the latter course, but +at the hotel door Barrie stopped us. She wore no veil; and though it was +to Somerled, not me, she spoke, I could see that her face was pale, her +eyes dilated. + +"Do you think that can be my mother arriving?" she asked in a low voice. + +He looked back at the lady who, at this instant, was springing from the +blue car to the pavement, her hand in that of a man who offered +unnecessary help. It was a tall figure in a long cloak the colour of a +duck's egg, and it gave the effect of willowy slimness despite the +disguising mantle. A close-fitting toque of greenish grayish blue +covered the small head, and the face was practically invisible behind a +thick veil of the same mystic colour; but as the lady turned her long +throat for a look at the other car, there was a glimpse of banded red +hair under the toque, and a curl or two at the nape of the neck. + +The two women in the smaller car also had red hair. They were not +veiled, and their neat black hats and jackets somehow advertised them +unmistakably as ladies' maids. Neither was pretty, in spite of her +flaming crown of glory; and neither was young. + +The remembrance of an "interview" with Mrs. Bal which I had read in some +paper flashed back to my mind. She had told the reporter that "only +red-haired servants could understand the moods of a red-haired +mistress," and that, after disastrous experiences with "dull creatures +who had no temperament themselves, and couldn't live with any one who +had," she decided to engage only red-haired maids. + +Perhaps Somerled knew of this idiosyncrasy, or else he recognized the +tall form in spite of its wrappings, for he said, "Yes, I think very +likely it is your mother, Barrie. But we can't be sure; and in any case +I strongly advise you not to try and speak to her here in the street." + +"Oh, I won't till she gets her veil off," said Barrie breathlessly, "but +I must wait and see her come into the hall. I----" + +Somerled gently but firmly drew the girl into the hotel. Mrs. James and +I followed. Evidently Somerled wanted to persuade Barrie that it would +be better to keep out of the lady's way as she entered, and meet later, +if indeed this were Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald; but the girl seemed +hardly to hear his murmured arguments. She did yield far enough to let +him lead her a little aside, but she took up her stand again where she +could see the blue figure enter. She did not speak, or insist upon her +own way, yet I think it would have been impossible to move her without +using brute force. Somerled realized that nothing was to be done with +the child for the moment, and accordingly did nothing, except to stand +beside her. Mrs. James and I took our places mechanically on the girl's +other side, though no word passed between us. + +Never had I seen Barrie so beautiful. Though a brilliant colour burned +on her cheeks, she looked curiously spiritual. Her lovely body seemed a +crystal lamp through which shone the light of an eager soul. + +A minute of this silent suspense, and the lady in the blue-gray cloak +came in, followed by the two red-haired maids carrying such valued +possessions as no hotel porter must be allowed to touch: little +handbags, gold monogrammed; a long coat of blue Russian fox; +silk-covered air cushions, and delicately bound books. Behind came +employes of the hotel, bearing rugs and other luggage; but the big man +who had helped the lady from the car did not appear. We had seen his +back only, yet the impression lingered in my mind that he was no +servant, but a gentleman, a personage of worldly as well as physical +magnitude. + +The lady went toward the desk, then paused, and with an imperious and +impatient little gesture directed one of her maids to untie her thick +blue veil. The knot was loosened with a skilful touch, and the face of +Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald was revealed. For a moment or two we saw it +only in profile, as she talked with the people at the desk, and bade the +elder of her two women write in the visitors' book. Then, as she turned +away to go to the lift, we were favoured with the full blaze of her +celebrated beauty. + +It is three years since I saw her last, in America, but she has not +changed, unless to look younger. She might not be a day over +twenty-five, and her figure is as slender, as spirited, and as graceful +as a girl's. She advanced more or less in our direction, though without +seeing us, and her walk was peculiarly attractive--slightly +self-conscious and suggestive of the actress, perhaps, but light as a +smoke wreath. If she makes up off the stage, she is so skilful that she +beats Nature at Nature's own game. Her complexion, with the gray-blue +veil flowing in folds on either side her face, looked pearly, and the +rippling lines of her red hair glittered like new copper. It was +impossible she should not know that every one in the big hall was gazing +at her; but such was her self-control, gained in long experience as a +beauty and popular favourite, that she seemed not to see any one. Hers +was not a morose remoteness, however. That might have offended admirers +and kept money out of the theatre. It was the radiant unawareness of a +passing sunbeam. + +A few more seconds and this charming figure, framed in floating clouds +of chiffon, would have reached the door of the lift, to be wafted out of +sight like a pantomime fairy. But Barrie could no longer be held within +bounds, for the great moment of her life had come. She darted away from +us, her figure as tall, more youthful, more willowy, and more charming +than the other, though singularly like in movement and in outline. The +resemblance between the beautiful woman and the beautiful girl produced +the effect of contrast, and ruthlessly dug a chasm of years between +them. Suddenly, as they stood face to face, Mrs. Bal--who had been young +as morning--reached the rich maturity of summer noon. + +The thing Somerled would have prevented had happened; but the reins were +out of his hands, and it would do more harm than good to snatch at them. +None of us moved, but we were nearer than any one else to the mother and +daughter, near enough to hear every word they said to each other. + +"Oh, mother, it's I--your daughter Barrie, come to find you," the girl +faltered. "You know--Barribel. You named me. I've run away from +Grandma----" + +"My goodness--_gracious_!" gasped Mrs. Bal, her brown eyes immense. In +her groping bewilderment, her blank amaze, she looked younger again, her +rather full face very round, almost childish, her dimples deepening in +the peachy flush of her cheeks. She stared at Barrie as if the girl were +a doll come alive--an extremely complicated, elaborate, embarrassing +doll, copied from herself and let loose upon the world. And Barrie did +not take her eyes from the beautiful, surprised face for an instant. In +her wistful suspense she scarcely breathed. "Oh, do love me--do be glad +to see me!" her soul implored through its wide-open windows. + +The silence, falling after Mrs. Bal's astonished gasp, lasted but an +instant, though it seemed long to us who waited. To others at a +distance, others who knew nothing of the story, whose sight and hearing +were not morbidly sharpened, the little scene probably meant no more +than a surprise meeting between the well-known actress and a very pretty +girl enough like her to be a sister. But to us who did know the +story--and something of Mrs. Bal--the pause was like the pause in court +while the jury is absent. + +Mrs. Bal was thinking, observing, making up her mind. Suddenly she broke +out laughing--a nervous, yet impish laugh, and seized the girl by both +hands. At the same time she bent forward--not down, for Barrie is as +tall as she--kissed the girl on both cheeks, and whispered something. + +It was a brief whisper. She could have said no more than half a dozen +words, but they stupefied Barrie. She threw back her head, almost as if +to avoid a blow. Tears sprang to her eyes, and she pressed her lips +together in a spasmodic effort at self-control. The bright rose-red of +excitement was drained from her face; but she did not draw away from her +mother, who still held the girl's hands. All she did was to turn her +head with a bird-like quickness and fling one glance at Somerled. + +I don't know whether or not she meant it as a call. Probably she didn't +herself know what she meant. Only, she was in need of help, of comfort, +and involuntarily turned to the strongest, most dependable personality +in her small world. I would have given all my faculty as a writer--my +dearest possession--to have been in Somerled's place--to have had her +appealing to me while her air-castle crumbled. + +He went to her at once, and spoke to Mrs. Bal, who had not seen him till +that instant. She blushed slightly at sight of him, I noticed; and I +wondered whether she had flirted, or tried to flirt, in the past with +the artist-millionaire. It was impossible to guess whether she were +pleased or displeased, but evidently his appearance on the scene was +ruffling in one way or another to the lady's emotions. "This is a +surprise!" I heard her say, in a softer, fuller tone than she had had +time to put into her first sharp exclamation at sight of Barrie. + +Then both voices dropped. The two talked together while the girl stood +by in silence, pale and expectant, depending on Somerled. Mrs. Bal said +something which made Somerled laugh--one of his cynical laughs, such as +I hadn't heard from him lately. Not once had he looked at Barrie. All +his attention was for the mother. She asked a question. Answering it, he +indicated Mrs. James and me. + +"Oh, please introduce them!" Mrs. Bal commanded pleasantly. + +This was a signal for us to approach. + +"Mr. Basil Norman," she said. "You are the author, of course. How nice +to meet you! Of course I read your books. And your sister who +collaborates--where is she?" + +"I don't know yet whether she's arrived or not," I explained. "I meant +to ask at the desk----" + +"I want to know her. Please tell her so. And this is Mrs. James. Why, +yes, of course! I remember you--in the days of my captivity." She +laughed a childlike, impish laugh. (Barrie has one rather like it, but +more spontaneous, less effective.) "You haven't changed." + +"Oh, thank you, dear Mrs. MacDonald," exclaimed the little woman, +radiant with pleasure--for I've found out that her two great desires are +to keep her youthful looks, and to be intellectually worthy of the +vanished doctor. "I'm sure _you_ are not in the _least_ altered, though +it must be seventeen years----" + +"Oh, my dear Mrs. James, don't--_please_ don't!" cried Mrs. Bal, +laughing and dimpling, and holding up both gloved hands in mock prayer. +"Don't mention the number of years. This is getting to be simply awful. +Shock after shock!" She laughed again, glancing roguishly at Barrie. "I +want you all to come to my sitting-room--this very minute--to hold a +council of war. It's most necessary. You dear, pretty child"--this +adorably to her daughter--"how much more mischief have you done already? +How many people have you let into the ghastly secret?" + +Barrie hung her head, and looked down. She must have known that +sympathetic eyes were on her, and have wished to avoid them. "There's +only Mrs. West and--and--I suppose her friends the Vannecks--and Mr. +Douglas--a Lieutenant Douglas----" + +"Horror! Their name is legion. What a scrape. Well, I must appeal to +their mercy. Please come up with me, everybody, and we'll talk it over +and see what's to be done. There isn't a moment to lose." + +By this time I began to guess what she was driving at, though the dazed +expression of Mrs. James told me that she was still in the dark. + +We got into the lift and were shot up to the next floor, nothing being +said on the way except a conventional word or two about the motoring +weather. "I came in a friend's car--I'll tell you all about it," Mrs. +Bal added as she led the way to her rooms. + +The two maids had arrived on the scene already. Doors were open; luggage +was being taken in under the direction of the red-haired ones; but in +the large sitting-room there was no sign of confusion. Quantities of +flowers adorned it, in tall glass vases and gilded baskets tied with +ribbons. Signed photographs of royalties and generals and judges, the +latest aviators and successful explorers, all in monogrammed silver +frames, were scattered on mantel and tables and piano-top. There were +plump cushions of old brocade on the several sofas and lounges. The +largest table had a strip of rare Persian embroidery laid across it, and +was graced rather than laden with novels, boxes of sweets, and silver +bonbonnieres. Evidently the maid who had come in advance had had her +hands full! + +"I must have pretty things to give me a home feeling. Touring would be +too horrid without that," she laughed. (Mrs. Bal laughs often in private +life; what clever woman with dimples does not?) "Now, sit down, and let +us discuss this desperate situation. But first--come here, Barribel. I +want to look at you." + +Barrie came. Mrs. Bal caught the girl's hands, and held her out at arm's +length. + +"You pretty creature!" she exclaimed. "Oh!" and she threw an appeal to +us. "To think I should be the mother of THAT! Isn't it simply appalling? +But I can't be, you know. I can't be her _mother_. Now _can_ I? I've +told her already--I had to decide in a flash. I admire her immensely, +and we're going to be fond of each other and the greatest chums. But we +must be _sisters_." + +Then I knew what she had whispered to make Barrie start and blanch. She +had said, "I won't be your mother." And Barrie had turned involuntarily +to Somerled because she had felt herself unwanted and her heart was +breaking. + +All this was preparing me for a career of villainy, though I must say in +self-defence that it was Aline who lit the match. "The woman tempted me, +and I did eat!" + +"Come and sit by me, lovely doll," said Mrs. Bal, pulling the girl down +beside her on the most cushiony and comfortable sofa. "So you are the +baby! I haven't forgotten you. I've thought of you a _lot_--really a +lot. But you never seemed _mine_, you know. _They_ wouldn't let me feel +you belonged to me. They were so good! Of course I had to leave you +for--for them to take care of. They thought they knew everything about +babies. I dare say they were right. I _had_ to escape. I couldn't have +lived with them another day, in that awful house. But I've been oh, _so_ +proper, and good, really. Even they could have hardly been shocked. And +I've hired three red-haired watch-dogs. But it isn't only myself I want +to talk about--it's you. I do think you're the prettiest thing I ever +saw--though I oughtn't to say so, perhaps, because I believe we're +alike. Aren't we, Somerled?" + +"In some ways, not in others," dryly returned the gentleman addressed. + +"Oh, I know the differences are in her favour--Diogenes! All the more +reason why I can't possibly own her for a daughter. My yearly profits +would go down a hundred per cent. And although she's perfectly +_darling_, and I'm going to love her--as a sister--she couldn't have +come to me at a worse moment." + +"Oh--why?" pleaded Barrie, speaking for the first time. + +"Because--you may as well hear this, all of you, since I've called you +to a council of war. I want you to realize"--and she gave each of us a +look in turn: a lovely, characteristic "Mrs. Bal" look--"that I'm on my +knees to you. I've thrown myself on your mercy. You've got to help me +out. The truth is"--she began taking off her gloves and looking down at +her own hands, her rings sparkling as the pink and white fingers were +bared--"the truth is, I'm a little--a tiny little bit--tired of acting. +I'd like to leave the stage in a blaze of glory while everybody wants me +and there's no one to take my place. There's only one trouble--I'm so +horribly extravagant. I always have been. I'm afraid I always shall be. +I make heaps of money, but I can't save. If I say good-bye to the +theatre, I shall want millions. I don't feel I can rub along on less. So +that means--I shall have to marry somebody else's millions, for I +haven't got the ghost of one of my own." + +As she explained her position she looked deliberately past Somerled and +out at the window. This made me sure that a vague suspicion of mine was +founded on fact. Mrs. Bal had angled for Somerled, and he had been one +of her few failures. She couldn't be pleased at encountering him again +as her daughter's self-appointed guardian and champion. It seemed to me +that the situation complicated itself, to Somerled's disadvantage; +therefore--it might be--to the advantage of the next nearest man, +myself. + +"There is some one," Mrs. Bal went on, with a slight but lessening +constraint, "who--rather likes me, and I rather like him--better than I +can remember liking anybody. He's got lots of money. His name is Morgan +Bennett. Somerled--you know him." + +"Yes," said Somerled. "I thought his back looked familiar." + +So the big fellow who helped Mrs. Bal out of the blue car (also big, in +proportion to the size of the owner and his fortune) was Morgan P. +Bennett of New York, the Tin Trust millionaire. Somerled's puny horde of +millions dwindle into humble insignificance beside Morgan Bennett's +pile. If Somerled has made two millions out of his mines and successful +speculations, and a few extra thousands out of his pictures, M. P. +Bennett has made twenty millions out of tin--and unlimited cheek. He is +so big that his pet name in Wall Street used to be "The Little Tin +Soldier." + +"He has been--dangling lately," Mrs. Bal went on. "Oh, nothing settled! +I confess I wish it were. I mean to take him if he asks me, and I think +he will. You wouldn't believe it, but he's a shy man with women. I do +believe he's frightened to propose. He's bought a house in London, in my +favourite square. And now he's taken a shooting-lodge in +Forfarshire--such an amusing place: a huge round house with as many eyes +as in a peacock's tail, all staring cheerfully, and high chimneys +grouped together like bundles of asparagus. I've just been staying there +with his sister, Mrs. Payne, whom I believe he imported from America on +purpose to play gooseberry. You know--or perhaps you don't--I tried my +new play for the first time in Dundee, just one night, and it went +gorgeously. This house of his isn't far off, and I was motored back and +forth for rehearsals and so on, while the company stayed in town. I +simply fell in love with the place; and he's trying to buy it--to please +me, I _hope_. There's a round porter's lodge and a round garage: and the +round house stands on a round lawn with a round road running round it +like a belt, so that it all seems the centre of a round world with the +sun moving round it. He brought me from there to Edinburgh to-day, and +two of my maids in another car. He won't stop here in the same hotel +with me, of course, but he'll drop in now and then--naturally--and he's +taken his box at the theatre for the whole week. We must arrange this +sister business before he calls. I've confessed to him that I'm +twenty-nine, and it's perfectly true. I've been twenty-nine for several +years. But he'd hardly believe me so old. And what _should_ I do--I ask +you all--if a grown-up--oh, but an extremely grown-up--daughter suddenly +loomed over my horizon? Even if I put back her clock to fifteen instead +of--never mind!--I couldn't manage to be less than thirty-one, and that +with the greatest difficulty. Now you see how I am placed." + +"Shall I go away and--and save you all the bother?" asked Barrie, in a +very small voice. + +"Oh, no, no, dear child; nothing of the sort, of course," protested Mrs. +Bal, patting the hands which Barrie held tightly clasped together in her +lap. "You mustn't be naughty and misunderstand. I don't want to lose you +like that, now you've taken all the trouble to find me--with the help of +our good Somerled. But--will you be a sister to me?--as popular men have +to say in Leap Year." + +"I'll do whatever you want me to do," Barrie answered in the same little +voice, like that of a chidden child. "Am I--would you like me to stay +with you here, or----" + +"Why, I suppose"--Mrs. Bal showed that she was startled--"I suppose we +must fix up a place for you--for a few days. But I don't see how you can +go with me on tour. It wouldn't be good for you at all. The best way is +for us to have a nice little visit together, and get acquainted with +each other, and then perhaps I'd better send you to--er--to my flat in +London, or--to boarding-school, or somewhere. I _quite_ understand you +wouldn't go back to your grandmother at any price, would you?" + +"I'd rather do that than be a trouble to you," said Barrie. "Only, I +don't think she'd take me back. But I could try----" + +"Certainly Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald won't hear of your going back to +live in Carlisle, I'm sure," said Somerled, looking somehow formidable +to reckon with as his eyes met Mrs. Bal's. Then, to the girl's mother: +"I am connected with her father's family in a way, you know, and I took +advantage of the connection to make Mrs. MacDonald's acquaintance at +Hillard House, after I'd met--her granddaughter. The arrangement between +us was that I should play guardian _pro tem_. So if you want any advice +about--Miss MacDonald's future, perhaps you'll be good enough to let me +help you." + +"Thanks, oh, thanks! I accept gratefully," replied Mrs. Bal, who had no +doubt already heard downstairs some few words explaining Barrie's +presence with our party in Scotland. "And you'll tell everybody she's my +sister, won't you?" + +"I'll not say anything to the contrary," he promised grimly. + +"And you, Mr. Norman? You, dear Mrs. James?" + +"I'll protect the secret with my life," said I, laughing. If I were a +woman, I should have been hysterical by this time. + +"I'll keep my mouth shut," replied Mrs. James, with pitying eyes that +said to the girl, "If _I_ were your mother, dear child, young as I like +to look, I'd be _proud_ to own you!" + +"What about your American victims?" I inquired of Barrie. + +Mrs. Bal pricked up her ears. "What victims?" she asked before her +daughter had time to speak. + +"Four young men who have prostrated themselves under Miss MacDonald's +chariot," I explained. "All who see her do this." In adding the little +tribute I meant well; but I saw in an instant that I'd been tactless. +Mrs. Bal regarded the girl reflectively; and that uncomfortable faculty +I have for reading people's thoughts told me she was repeating to +herself, "Ah, so all the men who see this child fall in love with her, +do they? H'm!" + +"They--I never talked to them about--about having a--mother," Barrie +stammered. + +"And this Mr. Douglas?" Mrs. Bal asked. "Is he too a 'victim?'" + +"He appears to be something of the sort," I was obliged to answer, as +she appealed to me. "The Douglas Heart, you know! And he has a cousin +with whom he's staying----" + +"Oh, do, dear Mr. Norman, like an angel of mercy 'square' them for me, +will you, and all the others who know?" Mrs. Bal implored, +ostentatiously ignoring Somerled, who had too evidently gone over to the +younger generation. "Your sister, too--and her friends? Will you go and +see if they have come, and if they have, bring them here--or plead my +cause eloquently, or something?" + +"I'll go at once," I agreed, rising. On principle, I disliked and +despised the gorgeous, selfish creature; but there was that in me which +longed to please her, and delighted in being chosen as her defender, +over the head of Somerled, so to speak. I was not sorry to escape from +the scene which Barrie's pale face and o'er-bright eyes made very +trying; also I was really anxious to find out if Aline had come. If she +had not, I should begin to worry about her and the poor old car--to say +nothing of the tribe of Vanneck. + +As I went out, I heard Mrs. Bal exclaim, "Oh, by the way, if she's to be +my sister, she can't be a MacDonald, She'll have to take the name of +Ballantree. It was my maiden name, you know." + +A disagreeable surprise awaited me outside. I learned that, while we'd +been out after luncheon, my sister and the Vannecks had come, but that +Aline had had a mishap. She'd been wearing a motor-mask veil, according +to her custom, in order to protect her complexion. The talc front over +her face had been damaged in the morning's storm, and somehow her eyes +were injured. I should have received the news sooner had I gone to the +desk instead of following Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald upstairs. + +Off I hurried to Aline's room, where I found Mrs. Vanneck with my +sister, and an oculist whom George had hurried out to fetch. The poor +girl was suffering, and a good deal frightened, though we tried to +console her. As she went to the window to be examined by the specialist, +I could see that her face and hair and lilac silk blouse were covered +with a powder of talc, which sparkled like diamond dust. Her eyes and +lids were full of the stuff, it proved, and she cried with nervousness +and pain as the oculist proceeded to get it all out. + +It was impossible to speak to her of Barrie and Mrs. Ballantree +MacDonald, but I told Maud Vanneck, who, though mildly horrified, +promised for herself and her brothers that the secret should not be +revealed. + +When I returned to Mrs. Bal's sitting-room, I found Somerled and Mrs. +James gone. Barrie was alone with her newly found--sister, and a more +forlorn little figure than our young goddess it would be hard to +imagine. Andromeda chained to her rock could not have looked more +dismally deserted by her friends. A room had been taken for her, and she +was now transformed into Miss Barribel Ballantree. "What a good thing I +wouldn't let her be called Barbara after me," said Mrs. Bal. "We should +have had to change her whole name, and that would have been _really_ +awkward!" + +I should have retired at once, when my errand was done, but Mrs. Bal +would not let me go. I think, for one thing, she wasn't at ease with +Barrie alone; and for another, she wanted to see if I too were a victim +of this young person who might perhaps turn out a formidable rival as +well as an inconvenient daughter. Barrie evidently wished me to stay; +and I made no effort to conceal my real feeling for the girl from either +of them. I thought that now was the time to let myself go. Barrie was +inwardly yearning for comfort and love, and I opened the door of my +heart for her to see that it and all within were hers. I was on the +spot, and Somerled wasn't; so I hoped that Barrie might be thankful even +for her "brother of the pen." Mrs. Bal's bright, observant eyes saw and +understood. + +Presently she announced that she was rather tired, and would lie down, +as there would be rehearsing to-morrow in the theatre; and though she'd +opened in Dundee, she would be almost as nervous in Edinburgh as on a +first night. Her maid was rung for. The eldest and reddest one came. +Barrie and I went out together, I longing for a few words in the +corridor, or at least a friendly pressure of the hand. But I saw that +she was in no condition to be spoken to. The reaction was coming on, and +I let her go at once. She almost ran down the passage to a room not far +away, and slammed the door. + + * * * * * + +Neither Mrs. Bal nor Barrie appeared again that evening. Presumably they +had dinner together in Mrs. Bal's quarters; and the heather moon shone +as through a glass darkly for the rest of us. Aline was ordered to keep +her room for the next few days, which settled our plans--or hers, at all +events. And we were a party of men dining that night, the two Vannecks +and Somerled and I, for Mrs. James "had a headache," and Maud kept Aline +company. + +The great Somerled was reflective if not morose. I wondered what his +schemes were concerning Barrie, for I imagined uneasily that he was +working with some idea; and if I didn't mean to sit still and let him +cage the dove while it fluttered homeless and forlorn, I must come out +of my corner into the open to fight for it. + +After dinner Aline sent for me, and her message included Somerled, if he +could "spare her a few minutes." He could and did with a good grace. We +went together to the small sitting-room, which looked dull compared with +Mrs. Bal's decorated background, though George Vanneck and I had done +our best, on an Edinburgh Sunday, in the way of roses. Somerled had +forgotten to incarnate his sympathy in flower form, and I read remorse +in his eyes as they fell upon Aline, piteous and prostrate. + +Electric light was not permitted, and the room was lit only by a few +green-shaded candles which made the invalid ethereally pale. She +reclined on a sofa and wore her best tea-gown, or whatever women call +those loose classic-looking robes nowadays. It was white, and becoming. +She had built up a wall of cushions, against which she leaned, and her +hair was done in two long plaits under a fetching lace cap which gave +her a Marie Antoinette effect. This hair-arrangement interested me +scientifically, because when I breakfast with Aline in our private +sitting-room at a hotel, she often has her hair hanging down, and it has +never looked so long nor so thick as it did on this occasion. She must +have had some clever way of plumping it out. Her eyes being tender and +inflamed had temporarily lost their beauty, so she had tied over them a +folded lace handkerchief or small scarf. + +"You look like a model for a classic figure of Justice," said +Somerled--"all but your smart Paris cap." + +"Why, was Justice blind? I thought that was Love," said Maud Vanneck, +gayly airing her ignorance. I couldn't help thinking--nor could +Somerled, I'm sure--that Aline looked more like Love-in-a-mist than +stern Justice; but I feared that he had definitely ceased to regard her +from the love point of view, if ever he'd inclined to it. + +Aline, who had heard nothing yet about Mrs. Bal, was anxious for the +story. I saw that Somerled desired me to speak, but I threw the +responsibility on him. I wanted to know how he would tell the story; but +I might have guessed that he would be as laconic, as non-committal as +possible, and that, much as he might yearn to do so, he would not +criticise Barrie's mother. + +"I think she admired her daughter," he said quietly, "but being what she +is, and looking no more than twenty-five, what can one expect? Of course +the sister fraud will be found out sooner or later; but the important +thing in Mrs. Bal's mind seems to be that it shall be later." + +"Is it right for us to help her deceive poor Mr. Bennett?" asked Maud +Vanneck, who is a person of earnest convictions. + +I chuckled at hearing the big chap called "poor," perhaps for the first +time in his life; and even Somerled smiled. + +"None of us are pledging ourselves to lie for the lady," said he. "We +simply hold our tongues. If Bennett asks Mrs. Bal to be his wife, he's +not the sharp man of affairs he's supposed to be if he expects to find +her a mirror of truth. When he discovers that she has a grown-up +daughter he'll shrug his shoulders, and perhaps never even let her know +she's been found out. I'm not very well acquainted with Bennett, but +I've met him a few times, and his most agreeable social quality seems to +me his strong, rather rough sense of humour. I expect he'll see the +funny side of being hoodwinked by Mrs. Bal. And a few years more or less +on her age--what do they matter to him? He's forty-five; and on the +whole he couldn't get a wife to suit him better." + +"I have a sneaking sympathy with Mrs. Bal," confessed Aline, in her +gentlest voice. "She's conquered all of you men, and has no further fear +of you; but I feel that she's trembling in her shoes because of Maud and +me. I should love to reassure her and let her know that we're not cats." + +"Shall I take her a message?" I suggested, trying not to seem too eager. +"I'm sure she'd like to get it." + +Aline smiled indulgently. "Poor boy, doesn't he want me to say 'yes?' +It's too late this evening, I'm afraid; but call on her and Barrie early +to-morrow morning, and ask if she'd care to drop in on the poor invalid, +on her way to rehearsal. I'd better see Mrs. Bal alone. She may want to +say things she wouldn't wish Barrie to hear--don't you think so, Mr. +Somerled? And, by the way, now your little ward is--more or less--safe +in other hands, have you settled your future plans?" + +"I expect to have something mapped out to-morrow," Somerled answered. + +"You'll go on with your trip--your rest cure--I suppose, as you meant to +when we--that is, before you were saddled with all this responsibility?" + +"I've been looking forward to Edinburgh, from the first," said he, +evasively. + +Aline saw that she would get no more satisfaction, and ceased to risk +irritating him; but after her guests had bidden her good-night, she kept +me for a talk. + +Of course she made me describe the scene between Barrie and her mother, +but she was more interested to know how Somerled had looked, what he had +said and done, than in my opinion of Mrs. Bal. + +"What do _you_ think he means to do?" she appealed to me, desperately. +"Do you think he's so infatuated with Barrie that he'll offer to take +the girl off her mother's hands and marry her?" + +"I've been studying Somerled for both our sakes," I said. "What I think +is, he's been telling himself the girl is too young and all that, and +ought to have a chance to meet a lot of other men. Yet he's seen how she +unconsciously attracts every male creature who comes along, and that +it's a danger for her if----" + +"_Unconsciously_ attracts! But I forgot, you're infatuated too. And she +_doesn't_ attract everybody. George Vanneck hardly considers her pretty. +He can't bear this rising generation of long-legged young colts, he +says; and he calls her hair carrots." + +"We'll cross George off the list. It's long enough without him, and +increasing with leaps and bounds. There'll probably be more names on it +by to-morrow night" (evidently I have a prophetic soul). "But to go back +to Somerled. Of course he foresaw something of what happened to-day: but +Barrie's face when Mrs. Bal suggested being a sister to her was enough +to turn a man of marble into a man of fire; and I don't think Somerled's +resolutions up to that point were as hard even as sandstone. He must see +now, as I do, that there'll be no place for the poor child with her +mother, whether Mrs. Bal marries a millionaire or goes gayly on with her +career as an actress. What is to become of a girl like Barrie, left to +her own devices, with every man--well, let's say every _second_ man--who +passes, stopping to flirt if not to propose? My fear is that Somerled's +resolutions are turning round the other way, and that he's contemplating +himself as permanent guardian--if Barrie'll take him." + +"Take him! She'll snap at him. She shows her feelings in the most +disgusting way. Oh, my _dear_ boy! I apologize. But I have feelings +too--as you know only too well." + +"I'm afraid she _is_ getting to like him," I said, "but I persuade +myself, anyhow, that she's more in love with love in general than with +Somerled in particular. She's under the influence of the heather moon." + +"I'm not going to let her have Somerled!" Aline cried out sharply. "I +can't bear it. Can you?" + +"I'm an idiot about the girl," I admitted. "I get worse every day. The +more flies that collect round the honey the more I want it myself. I +didn't know I was that sort of person, but I am. The worst of it is, she +calls me her brother, which is fatal." + +"No, it isn't. It shan't be," said Aline. "I shall get her for you." + +"Thank you very much," said I. + +"I'm not joking. An idea is on its way to me. I've been seeing it dimly +for days, but its success depended a good deal on Mrs. Bal. Now, her +being afraid of me makes it easier. I can't lie here idle, with all this +going on--yet I can't let _him_ see me as I am. My eyes look hideous. +They're pink, like an albino's. Otherwise I wouldn't listen to the +oculist. But I must do something. I begin to see what I _can_ do, if +you'll go on helping me and yourself, and not be a fool." + +"I won't be more of a fool than Nature made me," I assured her, "though +I may be a fool to love that girl." + +"No, for you can make her care. Of course you can. She's hardly more +than a child." + +"You were married at eighteen," I reminded my sister. "At least you +always tell people you were." + +"If you were a woman, you'd be a thorough cat! It's true--I wasn't much +more, but _I_ was mature in mind. I'd seen the world. Barrie MacDonald +will make you happy. You'll play together all your lives, and she can +take my place, helping you to write stories. It will be quite a romance +for the newspapers. And when she's out of sight, out of mind with Ian +Somerled, he'll realize that she wasn't the right one. He'll come back +to me, and see that I was always meant for him." + +"A woman's instinct is often right. Also many a heart is caught in the +rebound," said I, falling back on proverbs. And in this way, with the +talc that entered Aline's eyes, malice entered our hearts. Thus we took +up our parts of (alleged) villain and villainess. + + * * * * * + +Next morning, as early as I dared, I sent to ask if I might give Mrs. +Ballantree MacDonald a message from my sister. Word came back that she +would see me at once. Five minutes later I was knocking at the door of +her sitting-room, and, obeying her "Come in," found myself in the +presence of a Vision. She was in one of those tea-gown arrangements like +Aline's, only more so. She had a cap which, I fear, would have made +Aline's look, as they expressively say on the other side, "like thirty +cents." And if Morgan P. Bennett had seen the beautiful Barbara then, he +would have proposed without hesitating another second. That is, he would +have done so if Barrie hadn't come in before he began. She did come +while I was giving Aline's message to Mrs. Bal, and though she looked as +if she hadn't slept, to me she was more lovable than ever. I tried to +convince myself that Aline was right; that this girl and I were made for +each other; that, if I could take her away from Somerled, she and I were +bound to be happy together forever after. + +Mrs. Bal explained that she was later than usual because she had not had +a good night, and her chief maid, in reality a trained nurse, had been +giving her electric massage. + +"Now I feel equal," she added, "to tackling the world, the flesh, _et le +diable_. Mrs. West is the world. Morgan Bennett's the _flesh_(he weighs +two hundred pounds!) and--I shall be the devil. I always am at a +rehearsal. But the mood shan't come on while I'm with your sister. Now I +must go and get dressed. I'll not be fifteen minutes. Really! You don't +know what I can do in the flying line, when I choose. You may stay and +amuse--my little sister." + +I knew better than to ask questions. If the girl wanted sympathy she +could find it in my eyes, but she would resent pity. I praised Mrs. Bal, +and found that I'd struck the right note. + +"Yes!" Barrie exclaimed. "Isn't mother--I mean Barbara--gloriously +beautiful? She wants me to call her Barbara, and I shall love it. I +shall love to do whatever she wants me to do, I'm sure, because she's +such a darling. Everybody must want to do what she wants them to do, +whether it's right or wrong--though she wouldn't want anything she +_thought_ wrong, of course. Just fancy, she's given me heaps of pretty +things. I begged her not, but she would make me take them--a string of +pearls, and this ring--my very first!" (How I wish that I had put her +"very first" ring--or kiss--on the finger she displayed!) "And two +bangles--and she's going to pay back Sir S.--I mean Mr. Somerled" (so +she has her own name for him!)--"the money he lent me for my father's +brooch. Barbara doesn't want the brooch. I'm to keep it. And she says +she'll give me an allowance--but she expects Grandma to leave me +everything in her will. _I_ don't--and I'd rather not, though +moth----Barbara thinks I shall some day be quite well off. I fancied we +were very poor, but Barbara says Grandma must have got back nearly all +that was lost, by saving." + +I guess that the girl was making talk to show me how well satisfied she +was with everything; but whenever she met my eyes she looked away, to +interest herself in some photograph or ornament. + +In less than the promised fifteen minutes Mrs. Bal appeared again, very +lovely and ridiculously young in a short blue serge dress, with a turned +down collar that showed her firm white throat. I was allowed to remain +with Barrie while "Barbara" went up to see my sister; and the ice being +broken between us, we chatted comfortably of everyday things, I +unreasonably happy because I had got in ahead of Somerled for once. It +began to seem like a game of chess between us; I--directed by +Aline--playing against Somerled. If Aline upstairs were at this minute +making the move she planned, it would be check to his queen, Barrie of +course being queen. + +The only questions I ventured to ask the girl, and those in a casual +way, were, "Had she heard from or seen Somerled since yesterday +afternoon? And what was the programme for her, during this week of the +new play in Edinburgh?" + +Her answers were that she had neither seen nor heard from Somerled, and +that she didn't know what she was to do during the week. She hoped to +see something of Edinburgh. She supposed we--and Mr. Somerled--would +soon be leaving for the west or north. But she had written Mr. Douglas, +by Barbara's request, and he was very nice. He might be counted on to +show her things. He was invited to call this afternoon with his cousin. +Jack Morrison had written asking to come too, and Barbara said that he +might do so--bringing his three friends. She--Barrie--must be very, very +careful always to say "Barbara" and never--the _other_. She could +_quite_ understand now how the darling felt, though it had seemed queer +at first. + +By and by Mrs. Bal returned, and I saw by the light in her eyes and the +colour on her cheeks that the conversation with Aline had been +interesting. Hardly had she arrived and begun demanding from her various +maids various things wanted at the theatre, when Somerled sent up to beg +a moment's talk with her. + +"Tell the gentleman I shall be delighted," she said to the hotel +servant: and I saw that she was smiling the impish smile which Barrie +has inherited. + +"So glad you came before I got away!" she exclaimed, shaking hands with +Somerled. "Five minutes more and I should have missed you. I'm due at +the theatre now. The poor wretches are rehearsing without me, but I must +turn up for a scene, at eleven!" + +"I won't keep you five minutes," said Somerled, quietly. "I only want to +ask if you'll let Barrie--provided she'd like it--" he glanced at the +girl, whose eyes brightened--"take a few excursions with her friend Mrs. +James and me, in my car this week. You'll be busy and----" + +"I should have been delighted, and I'm sure Barrie would," broke in Mrs. +Bal, "but you're just too late. A new thing for you, isn't it? I've been +having the most charming visit with Mrs. West, who is better, but must +keep to her rooms for two or three days. Her car will be eating its head +off unless it's used, and I've promised that her friends the +Vannecks--such _nice_ people! I met them in Mrs. West's +sitting-room--and Mr. Norman shall have Barrie for--probably--the very +excursions you have in mind. Too bad! But first come, first served! +You've all been so good to this girl, one hardly knows how to choose +between you. But I thought Mrs. James was going home at once? I +understood from Barrie that she said so last night?" + +"She has decided to stay until the little surprise I'm trying to arrange +for her, comes off--or on. She doesn't know what it is, but she pays me +the compliment of taking it on trust. She'll be disappointed at having +to give up the motor runs she was looking forward to with Barrie." + +"You've plenty of old friends in Edinburgh, I'm sure," suggested Mrs. +Bal, "and you can make up a party to console dear Mrs. James for the +loss of Barrie." + +"I don't believe Mrs. James can be induced to take any excursions +without Barrie," said Somerled: which meant that he didn't intend to +leave Edinburgh while the girl was in it and at the mercy of her erratic +parent. I thought he was anxious Barrie should understand that he was +not going to desert her. Perhaps she did understand, for she is quick in +penetration; but her own pride, and loyalty to Mrs. Bal, kept her from +showing that she felt need of protection, or even that she supposed +Somerled to be offering it. She did show, however, that it grieved her +to refuse his invitation. She took the "tip" he gave and put it all upon +Mrs. James: how sorry she was not to do any more sight-seeing with dear +Mrs. James. But I knew that the name in her heart was not the name on +her tongue. + +Aline had scored. I wanted to know just how, and how far, but I +determined not to leave Barrie with Somerled. I needn't have worried, +however, for Mrs. Bal and I had the same thought. She asked if Barrie +would like to go to the theatre with her and watch a rehearsal. +Naturally, Barrie said yes, and Somerled and I saw them off in the +smaller of the two motor-cars which Morgan Bennett had placed at Mrs. +Bal's service for the Edinburgh week. As for Bennett himself, he was +apparently "lying low," by her wish or his own; but I expected to see +him at the theatre that night. Of course, we were all going to turn out +in full force for "The Nelly Affair." Somerled had taken a box, he told +me, and proceeded to invite the whole party; but there also Aline had +got in ahead. During Mrs. Bal's call upon her, they had arranged that +the Vannecks and I should sit with Barrie in stalls offered by the Star. +Mrs. Bal had (she assured us fluently, before starting off in her car) +intended asking Somerled and Mrs. James too, and stalls were provided +for them. But as he had already engaged a box, she would give the seats +to the two Douglases. Perhaps he--Somerled--would have room in his box +for those nice American boys, of whom Barrie seemed so fond? + +Aline was eagerly waiting for me to come back and congratulate her upon +her great success. She wanted to tell me everything; but her desire to +talk was nothing compared with my yearning to hear. + +"It's all right," she began. "I've made a bargain with Mrs. Bal. I told +her you were in love with Barrie. That's the way I broke the ice, after +I'd paid her compliments and she'd sympathized about my eyes. I said I'd +keep her secret, and answer for the Vannecks, if she'd give you a chance +with Barrie." + +"By Jove!" I grumbled. "You didn't mince matters between you! Anything +said about Somerled?" + +"Why, I told her that the child was fancying herself in love with Ian, +and behaving rather foolishly. And I said that Ian was naturally +flattered, but that he was the last man to marry a baby like Barrie; and +if we didn't act quickly, the poor little girl might suffer. You must +have noticed, Basil, that Mrs. Bal doesn't like Ian Somerled." + +"I've noticed that she takes an impish delight in thwarting him." + +"That's because he once thwarted her. She admitted as much. Or, at least +she said she asked him to paint her portrait, and he did paint it. When +the picture was finished, he gave it to her, and didn't even make +himself a copy." + +"Well," I replied, puzzled, "I don't see anything in that to upset her. +Even for a beauty like Mrs. Bal it's a compliment to be painted by +Somerled. And surely it was a mark of regard to make her a present of +the picture, when he can get from a thousand to five thousand pounds for +anything he chooses to do." + +"Oh, you _man_," exclaimed Aline. "And you pretend to be a student of +women's characters! Of course Mrs. Bal was furious because he didn't beg +to do her portrait and then make two, one for her, and one for himself. +Fancy my having to explain! And besides, there must have been more than +that in the affair. She wouldn't have asked him to paint the picture if +she hadn't wanted to see him often alone, and make him fall in love with +her. His giving her the portrait was a kind of defiance, to show her +that he didn't care _that_ for the original." + +"Oh, well, if you think so!" said I. + +"Mrs. Bal thinks so. And she's enchanted to get her revenge. Not that +she'd have chosen this way, because, of course, it's a sickening thing +to have Ian and all these men know that she's old enough to be the +mother of a grown-up daughter--and to be obliged to throw herself on +their mercy to help her out of the scrape. She laughs and pretends it's +a joke, but she simply _hates_ it. I hinted to her that if you married +the girl there'd be no talk ever about Barrie being Mrs. Ballantree +MacDonald's daughter. That should be _forgotten_, I said, though they +could correspond with each other and be good friends. Barrie would live +in Canada with you, and be out of Mrs. Bal's life altogether. And I +impressed it upon her that your ideal existence was a quiet country +place. It was the same as telling her that she'd be _rid_ of Barrie by +giving her to you. Whereas, if the girl should marry Ian, Somerled's +wife would always be before the public eye, and everybody would be sure +to find out all about her. Mrs. Bal caught my meaning, you may be sure; +and she promised me that Barrie should go everywhere with us, or rather, +with you and the Vannecks, till I can get about. Anyhow, _nowhere_ with +Ian. Now, you see, I've done all I can for you." + +"And for yourself," I was mean enough to add, for the thought of what we +were doing together was not a good thought, and it brought out the worst +of me. + +"I haven't any one to work for my interests. _You_ have," she retorted; +and as I'd no mind for further recrimination I begged her pardon, +thanked her gratefully, and proceeded to tell all that had happened in +Mrs. Bal's room. It was not pleasant for Aline to hear how prompt +Somerled had been in trying to relieve Mrs. Bal of her burden; but there +was consolation in his disappointment. + +"Do I look very horrid?" she questioned anxiously, "or do you think I +might ask him to take pity on me for a little while this afternoon, and +sit here when you're all out sight-seeing?" + +I reassured her, saying that her eyes looked no worse than if she'd been +indulging in a "good cry." She decided, however, that if Somerled came +she would bandage them again and continue to resemble Justice. I didn't +ruffle her feelings by remarking that morally the resemblance would be a +parody. + +When Maud Vanneck and I went, soon after luncheon, to ask if Barrie +would walk in Princes Street, with perhaps a stroll along the High +Street, and on to Holyrood or the Castle, I found Mrs. James in Mrs. +Bal's sitting-room with the two Douglases and the four Americans. The +mother and daughter had returned late from rehearsal, and had just +finished luncheon. Mrs. Bal had a letter in her hand, which had +evidently arrived with a box of orchids, probably a tribute from +Bennett; and the lady's desire to get us out of the way suggested the +imminent arrival of a caller worth keeping to herself. + +Finally, it was arranged that we should all go out together, the +Douglases assuring the rest of us that they could open doors which would +be shut to strangers. + +"Where's Somerled?" I asked Mrs. James, in case he were condescending to +lie in wait somewhere. + +"When I saw him last," she replied, "he'd got an immense pile of foreign +letters, and several cablegrams. It looked as if he'd enough to occupy +him the whole afternoon. Important business I suppose; yet in spite of +all, I believe he's been concerning himself with some surprise for me. +He may perhaps have news I shall like to hear when I get back. I expect +he's been telling some friend about those Stuart chairs I want to sell, +and thinks he's got me a buyer." + +The Douglases took us to see the _Scotsman_ building, and the secret, +inner workings of a great newspaper. We descended from marble halls to +vast underground regions, the lair of a monster immeasurably more +powerful than the Minotaur who ramped and raved under the Palace of +Crete. The roar of this modern Minotaur was as the noise of Niagara +broken by stormy bursts of thunder. It stunned the intelligence; it +shrivelled the organs of speech like a dried kernel rattling impotently +in an old nutshell. It filled the world and made human happenings, such +as individual lives and deaths, seem of no more importance than the +snapping of thumb and finger in front of a cataract. I couldn't have +lived in the tumult long and kept my wits; but we heard of an employe +who, when some tooth or nail in the enormous monster smote him, could +not bear to stop away long enough to complete his cure, because he was +unable to bear the "awful stillness" of the hospital. Persons of +impregnable nerve-power let us deeper and deeper into the bowels of the +earth, showing us the dragon's brood, and his terrible wife whose +business it is not only to print the newspaper, but to cut its sheets, +and eventually to lay them like eggs, at the rate of thousands a minute: +a most appalling creature she, who so battered my brain with her +accomplishments and the wild cackle she made over them, that weakly I +let Barrie be snatched from me by Donald Douglas. + +In the roar and rush and riot I was incapable of caring, though vaguely +I recalled the fact that I had come out with the sole object of annexing +the girl's society. Vaguely too, though only vaguely, I resented the +Douglas method; but I had my revenge almost before I recovered sense +enough to want it. There came, I know not why or how (perhaps one of the +masters decreed it, to strike our ears with the contrast), a sudden +unexpected lull. It was only a comparative lull, and it lasted no more +than a few seconds; but there was time enough to hear Douglas yell into +Barrie's ear, "I must have you for my own." + +The next instant he was purple through his soldier-tan. He knew the +dragon and the dragon's wicked wife had betrayed him, as he took +advantage of their domestic clamour to speak in a crowd as though he +were alone with his love in the desert. What Barrie answered, or if she +had breath to answer, none of us could guess, though all, especially the +four Americans, were bursting with anxiety to know. Later, however, when +we went up to the Castle (anything but the Castle, with its thousand +years of history, would have been an anticlimax after that wonderful +dragon cave), Donald Douglas walked meekly with his cousin, leaving +Barrie to Jack Morrison. As for me, I had temporarily lost my +individuality, and with that roar still echoing through my brain, +vibrating through my nerves, I was glad to crawl along, talking to +nobody, and picking up dropped or untied bits of myself as I went. For +the moment, frankly I didn't care how many men proposed to Barrie, or +whether she accepted them all. But afterward, it was different. It +occurred to me that Jack Morrison was not only a handsome and gallant +fellow, but said to be very rich, at least as rich as Somerled, and ten +years younger. Aline and I might be mistaken about the girl's feelings +for Ian. Very likely it was no more than a romantic sort of gratitude; +and though I absolved the child from the smallest taint of mercenary +motive, it was almost impossible that a sleepless night had not given +her some wise counsel. She was too sensitive and quick-witted a girl, I +reflected, not to have seen that she could not go on living with her +mother, and that it was a necessity to find a niche somewhere. All these +young men saw this also, though they knew no more than the fact that +they were prayed to consider Mrs. Bal an elder sister of "Miss +Ballantree," therefore they were hastening to offer her sheltering +niches, more or less desirable. In other circumstances, they would have +waited a few days, long enough at least for Barrie to know which was +which, and get their features and some of their characteristics ticketed +with the right labels; but as it was, each saw he had no time to waste +if he didn't want his friend or foe to get in ahead of him. While we +were at the Castle, looking at Mons Meg (which recalled Thrieve) and the +banqueting-hall of armour with its faded banners and fadeless memories; +gaping at the mysterious place over the entrance door where, in a +bricked-up alcove, a baby skeleton was found wrapped in cloth of gold +embroidered with a royal monogram; walking through the wainscoted room +where Mary of Guise died; gazing at the long mislaid crown of Bruce +("the Honours of Scotland"); seeing sweet Queen Margaret's Chapel where +the Black Rood lay till it went in state down the hill to make Holyrood +holy; peering at the wall-stairway down which the Douglas boys were +dragged after the "black dinner"; admiring the kilted soldiers; and +drinking in the view over hill and valley and mountains, towns and +nestling villages, the vast, colourful checkerboard of beautiful Mary +Stuart's journeys, flights and fightings: while beholding treasures and +splendours which are as the red drops of Scotland's heart's blood, man +after man took his place at Barrie's side and became her cicerone. Each +talked with her awhile, and after a few brief minutes allowed a change +of partners, the discarded one humbly retiring to Mrs. James's side. It +was really funny; or at least so it seemed until enough self-assertion +came back to admit of my entering the lists. Then I promptly lost my +sense of humour, and had no wish to look for it. I wanted only to look +at Barrie, who was unusually flushed and bright of eye. + +By this time there wasn't much left to tell her about the Castle or the +Castle Rock. When I began to work off my erudition by mentioning the +name of Edwin, for whom Edinburgh was named, and who made it a royal +borough in the eleventh century, she said: + +"Oh, Mr. Douglas's cousin, the other Douglas, told me that!" + +When I related the tale of that gallant Francis who was able to lead Sir +Thomas Randolph and thirty soldiers up the perilous rocks to surprise +the Castle at night, having learned the way when sweethearting down in +the Grass-market, Barrie confessed that she had heard the story already. +Jack Morrison had found it in some old book he had bought at the shop +under John Knox's house, in the High Street. There was no use trying to +work up or classify historic thrills for her in this vast heart of +Scotland; she had been given them all, with generous additional thrills +from private hearts, Scottish and American. + +"Has every single one of those chaps proposed to you?" I flung the +question in her face. "You might tell your Mentor." + +"Oh, not Donald Douglas's cousin!" she answered hastily. "He's engaged +to some one in the Highlands." + +"Good heavens, then all the rest _have_ done it, in a bunch!" + +"I think you're _horrid_!" she said indignantly. "I've always heard that +girls don't tell such things to any one." + +"They do to their brothers--of the pen, if they have any such. Besides, +you don't need to tell. I'm a regular Sherlock Holmes where people +I--like, are concerned, and I know what's been happening to you this +afternoon. A manna-rain of proposals, in the wilderness of Edinburgh +Castle. Many girls would have accepted them all, and then sorted them +out to see which they liked best; but I have a shrewd idea from the look +of the gentlemen's backs that they are now one and all your adopted +brethren." + +"It's almost wicked to joke on such a subject," Barrie reproached me, +trying not to laugh, "and it's not nice of you to make fun of them, just +because you consider yourself superior, as an author who is always +analyzing people's minds and motives. It's not as if they were so much +in love with me that they had to propose in a hurry for their own sakes. +It's not that _at all_; but only because they thought it wouldn't be +very convenient for--Barbara to have me live with her, travelling about +so much, or if she should marry. So they felt as if something ought to +be _done_ for me, you know, as soon as possible." + +"Sainted, unselfish young men!" I murmured. "But I don't consider myself +superior, as it happens. I'd do the same thing in a minute if I thought +there were the faintest chance of your giving me an answer different +from theirs. Is there?" + +"Don't talk nonsense!" she exclaimed. "But of course, I'm happy to say, +I know you don't mean it." + +"Well, if you're happy to say that, I'll leave you your fond illusions +for the present," I returned. "But, as girl to man, tell me; don't you +rather like being proposed to?" + +"It's very exciting," she admitted. "I never expected, somehow, that +such a thing could happen to me." + +"Oh, didn't you? Why not?" + +"Well, there's my red hair, which I always thought was _fatal_, until I +saw my mother's portrait--and heard Mr. Somerled say he liked painting +red-haired women." + +"Red hair _can_ be fatal, though not in the way you appear to mean," +said I. "Which thrilled you more, the Castle or the proposals?" + +"Oh, the Castle, of course!" she answered scornfully. "After the first +one or two, they seemed like interruptions." + +All five of my rivals (there might have been six, had it not been for +the girl in the Highlands) having had their medicine, I was allowed +almost as much as I wanted of Barrie's society during the walk down from +the Castle Rock, and to Holyrood. Together she and I walked through that +most romantic royal house of all the world; and long as I may live, +never shall I forget those hours. Chestnut-tressed Mary herself could +not have been lovelier than the red-haired girl who walked beside me, +and when the royal beauty came on a day of chill, northern haar, to her +Scottish realm, she was only a year older than this child we all love +but think too young for love. Yet already, at nineteen, Mary was a +King's widow, and had been Queen of France. + +It was of Barrie's romance, Barrie's future, I thought most, as we +wandered side by side through the haunted rooms where Mary danced and +loved and suffered, where her grandson Charles I of England came, and +left his ruby Coronation ring for remembrance, and where Prince Charlie, +her far-off descendant, made hearts flutter at the great ball given in +his honour. But it was the past which had all Barrie's thoughts, unless +she sent a few to the man who had stayed at home reading his letters, +instead of following in her train. + +We looked at Queen Mary's bed with its tattered splendour of brocade: +the box filled with relics of her short reign in Holyrood: her neat +embroideries, her tear bottle, and Darnley's glove, which Barrie thought +Mary would not like to have kept with the other things: and then, having +saved the best for the last, I took the girl up to the little +supper-room where Rizzio was murdered. Barrie gazed at everything in +silence: and now we could both be silent when we liked, for the +chastened ones had meekly trooped off to show Mrs. James the Abbey, or +Royal Chapel, where Mary and Darnley were married, and where a hundred +things had happened, things connected with others whose romances were as +poignant if less well remembered here, than hers. + +We had come up the secret stairway in the wall, because I wanted Barrie +to miss no thrill this place could give; but it was not the thought of +the murder-scene which most caught her imagination. She listened to my +dramatic version of the tragedy of the room, and of the dark closet +where Rizzio tried to hide, and shuddered a little; but soon she was +drawn, as if beckoned by an unseen hand, to the bevelled mirror with +scalloped edge, which Mary brought with her to Scotland from France, a +dim oval full of memories, may be, of dear, dead days at Amboise and +Chenonceaux. + +"What does that poor piece of blurred glass make you think of so +intently?" I asked, when Barrie had stood silently staring down the +veiled vista of mystery for many minutes. "You look like a young modern +Cassandra, crystal gazing." + +"So I am!" the girl almost whispered. "I'm trying to see something in +the mirror--the things _she_ saw in it--or to see her eyes looking into +mine. If anything can be haunted, it is this mirror. Think of what has +passed before it. But do you know, I don't believe it has ever really +intelligently seen anything since the day Queen Mary went away from +Holyrood. I feel she ran here, to take one last look into her mirror, +and to bid it farewell as she bade farewell to France, gazing and gazing +as the land faded from her sight forever. Then, when she'd gone, the +glass she loved grew dim as it is now, and _blind_ because it could no +longer give back the brightness of her eyes. There's nothing left in it +now but sad dreams and memories of the past." + +"Did you ever," I asked, "go down into the cellar at midnight on All +Hallow E'en with a candle and a mirror and wish to see the face of your +future husband?" + +"No, indeed," Barrie answered emphatically; "we had no such tricks at +Hillard House." + +"Now, in this mirror, if any in the world, you might be able to see such +a vision, not only at midnight, but on an ordinary afternoon, like this +for instance," said I. "Suppose you stop thinking of Queen Mary for a +minute and concentrate on yourself. Wish with all your heart for the +face of the man you'll love, the man you'll marry, to appear under this +clouded surface of glass." + +Barrie looked somewhat impressed by my mysterious tone as well as the +overwhelming romance of her surroundings. She put her face close to the +mirror, and I was about to profit by the situation I'd led up to when +some one stepped between us and looked over the girl's shoulder. It was +Somerled, who must have come in just in time to overhear my advice, and +take advantage of it for himself. But he could not wholly blot me out of +the mirror. Both our faces were there, to be seen by Barrie, "as in a +glass darkly." She gave a little cry of surprise, and wheeled round to +smile at Somerled. + +"You came after all!" she exclaimed, forgetting or pretending to forget +the solemn rite which had engaged us. But I must admit I was in a mood +to be almost superstitious about it. I had prophesied to the girl that +she would see reflected the face of the man she was destined to love and +marry. An instant later she had seen two faces, Somerled's and mine. +Would she love one man, and marry the other? Or would only one of these +two men count in her life? + +Perhaps Queen Mary's mirror knew. It looked capable of knowing--and +keeping--any secret of the human heart. + + * * * * * + +That night--oh, my prophetic soul!--Morgan Bennett saw Barrie at the +theatre, and looked at her through his opera-glasses almost as often as +he looked at Mrs. Bal in her gay, exciting comedy-drama, "The Nelly +Affair." The play had been written for the actress and suited her +exactly. In fact its whole success was made by her magnetic personality, +her beauty, and her dresses. She scarcely left the stage, and had +something to do or say every minute, yet I noticed that she found +opportunities to observe where Bennett's eyes were straying. As for +Barrie, she saw nothing, heard nothing, thought of nothing, but her +mother, glorious Barbara, who for this evening was Nelly Blake, a girl +of eighteen, seeming not a day older. Barrie, in a white dress, with her +hair in two long braids (Mrs. Bal thought she was too young to wear it +done up), sat among us in an ecstasy. Was ever any one so beautiful, so +clever, so altogether marvellous as darling Barbara? This was as it +should be; and we who knew the girl, knowing that she had never before +seen a play, nor the inside of a theatre, thought her pathetic; but +Morgan Bennett, who did not know her, merely thought her pretty and +wondered how he could get to know her. The very flash of his +opera-glasses was interested and eager; and when I proudly took the girl +behind the scenes to compliment Mrs. Bal after the first act, I was far +from surprised to see Bennett appear almost immediately in the same +mystic region. Barrie and I were with Barbara in a little room which she +intended to use as a boudoir for the week of her engagement; and when an +employe of the theatre announced Mr. Bennett, she looked annoyed. For an +instant she hesitated visibly; but as he was probably aware that she had +visitors, there was no good excuse for sending him away. Part of Mrs. +Bal's success with men consists in knowing what kind of snubs they will +meekly endure from a lovely spoiled woman, what kind they neither forget +nor forgive. She sent word to Mr. Bennett that he might come in. + +He accepted the invitation promptly, and Barbara, with quick presence of +mind, introduced him to her little "sister Barribel." + +"Barribel! That's a pretty name," he said, shaking hands with Barrie, +his eyes on her face. "Miss Barribel Ballantree, I suppose." + +"You may suppose so!" returned Mrs. Bal, laughing. + +"I saw this young lady sitting out in front," he went on, instead of +congratulating the actress at once on the success of the first act, +which had "gone" splendidly with the large audience. "I said to myself +there must be a relationship between you two: and I was wondering." + +"Well, you needn't bother to wonder any more," broke in Mrs. Bal, very +gay but slightly shrill. "I must have spoken to you about Barrie?" + +"'Barrie' is what you call her?" said he, smiling at the girl. "That's a +very nice pet name, and suits her, somehow. You surely never spoke of +your sister to me. I shouldn't have forgotten." He added the last words +with a look intended as a compliment for Barrie; and any woman wishing +to monopolize his attention exclusively might have been pardoned for +thinking that he had looked at her more than often enough in the +circumstances. In his big way he is attractive, to certain types of +women, very attractive indeed, and I could understand that his millions +might not be his only charm for Mrs. Bal. He has eyes which can be +fierce as an eagle's; the strong, almost cruel jaw of the predestined +millionaire who will mount to success at any cost; a pleasure-loving +mouth, and--when he is pleased--a boyish smile. When he is severely +displeased, I shouldn't care to be there to see him, especially if he +were displeased with me. But I suspect Mrs. Bal to be one of those women +who could not love a man unless she were afraid of him. In that may have +lain the secret of Somerled's former fascination for her, if it existed. + +"If I've forgotten to mention Barrie, it's because I'm always talking +about _you_, when we're together," Mrs. Bal excused herself with dainty +impertinence of the sort Bennett will stand from her. "If it isn't about +you, it's about your motors--or some affair of yours." + +"I thought you, and _your_ affairs were generally the subject of our +conversations," retorted the big man, still looking more at the young +girl than at the woman. "Miss Ballantree is your affair----" + +"She has only just become so," Barbara hurried to explain. "Her +grandmother, who thoroughly disapproves of me and all actresses, has +kept the child shut up in a moated grange all her life. It's a wonder I +didn't forget her existence! She _had_ begun to seem like a sort of +dream-sister, until she suddenly dropped in on me yesterday, and +announced that she'd run away from home. I'm simply enchanted to have +the darling with me, for my own sake, or I should be if I hadn't such a +beautiful, unselfish nature that I find I worry myself into fits about +her when she's out of my sight. To-night I couldn't half act, because I +was thinking about her all the time, and wondering what on earth I could +do to make her happy. I foresee I shan't be able to study or rehearse or +anything, while she's getting into mischief in a big hotel. I shall send +her away though to-morrow, for a few days, with some _very_ dear friends +of hers, who will give her a good time until I settle down and feel at +home with this new play--in which, by the way, you don't seem to take +the _slightest_ interest. You haven't said a word about it, or how it +went, or how I acted." + +"You know better than that----" Bennett was beginning when Barrie (to +whom, despite his size, he was a figure of no importance) broke in +without being aware that he was speaking. + +"Oh, Barbara, you won't make me go _to-morrow_; You promised----" + +"If she promised, we must make her stick to her promise," said Bennett, +forgiving the interruption, and perhaps willing to tease Mrs. Bal. + +The beautiful Barbara, however, had gathered together her scattered +wits, and was too wise to show that she was being teased. "I know, I +meant to keep you with me this Edinburgh week anyhow," she answered the +girl. "But, sweetest, you won't want to hold me to the promise, no +matter what Mr. Bennett or any one else says, if I tell you that I'm +worrying over your being here? I don't feel it's the right thing for +you. And it's certain Grandma will change her will if she hears you're +living with me. It's a miracle I didn't dry up in my part to-night from +sheer anxiety and absent-mindedness. You'd hate me to _fail_ through +you, dear one, I know." + +"Oh, yes--anything but that," Barrie exclaimed, tears in her eyes. + +Alas, if only some other name than that of M. P. Bennett had added +itself to her list of admirers, all might have been well for Barrie with +sister Barbara, at least for a little while! As it was, the girl's fate +was sealed. So much the better for me: yet my fool of a heart ached for +her disappointment, instead of leaping for joy at my own good luck. + +Mrs. Bal looked at the girl with an odd expression on her charming face, +painted for the stage. There was compunction, if not remorse, in the big +brown eyes, but there was no relenting. She liked Barrie and enjoyed her +childish adoration, but she loved herself, and she wanted to "land" +Morgan Bennett. The girl would have to be sacrificed; still, those +rising tears gave Barbara pain to see. She would really have been glad +to make Barrie happy, if the creature's youth and beauty had not been an +hourly peril for her. + +"Don't look so disconsolate, dear," she said. "You're going to have a +glorious time. And if wet eyelashes are a compliment to me, they're just +the opposite to Mr. Norman." + +"Is it Mr. Norman the novelist?" Bennett wanted to know. + +"Yes. And he's going to let Barrie help him with a story--or else he's +putting her into one, I'm not quite sure which." + +Barbara threw him this bit of information with a sweetly casual air, but +it was one of the cleverest things she ever did, on the stage or off. +Somehow, with a smile that flashed over us all with a special meaning +for each--affection for Barrie, a benediction for me, and a secret +understanding for Bennett--she contrived to convey to him the idea that +her little sister was already bespoken. No use his being led away by +rosebud innocence! It was engaged, and if he were wise he would be true +to his love for the full-blown rose. + +"Just think, pet, what an honour to be taken about by such famous people +as Basil Norman and Aline West," she went on, "and to have them for your +best friends. You'd have had a horrid dull time with them gone, for I +should have had to leave you alone a lot. And next week, when they bring +you back to me at Glasgow, your future will be all beautifully +arranged." + +"But Mrs. West isn't well enough to go to-morrow----" Barrie pleaded. + +"No. But Mrs. Vanneck will chaperon you for a few days. You ought to be +frightfully happy, seeing Scotland with those you love while your poor +Barbara works for her daily bread. And now you must go out in front +again with Mr. Norman, if you don't want to miss the beginning of the +second act. Mr. Bennett has seen it, so he can stop with me five minutes +if he likes, till my call." + +Barrie had been at rehearsal, and would no doubt have been quite willing +to miss any part of the play not graced by Mrs. Bal's presence on the +stage; but short as was the time since she made her mother's +acquaintance, she had learned to know the lady well enough to realize +when she was not wanted. She went with me like a lamb resigned to the +slaughter; and so, I was sure, would she start with us next day. But +just here, I think, is the place to write down what had meanwhile +happened to Mrs. James. If it hadn't been for that happening, perhaps we +should not, after all, have snatched the girl away so easily from +Somerled. And the funny thing was--for it had its funny side, as even he +must have seen--the funny thing was, that all was his own fault. When he +planned that wonderful surprise for Mrs. James, he little thought it +would be the means of stealing his trump card from him. Generous he may +be, and is, I must admit; but it's not likely that he would have been +unselfish enough to put himself in a hole for Mrs. James's happiness, +especially as he could have got just as much credit from Barrie by +waiting a few weeks--say, until the end of the "heather moon." + +To have brought in the "surprise" in its proper order, I should have +worked it into my notes between our sight-seeing expedition in the +afternoon, and the theatre in the evening, for it was common property by +that time. We all knew (from Mrs. James, not from himself), what a noble, +magnificent, wonderful, glorious, altogether pluperfect fellow Somerled +was, to have interested himself in her behalf, and to have given her +such happiness as all her friends had thought her mad to dream of +through the dreary years. + +Always, it seems, she believed that her husband, who disappeared +seventeen years ago, was alive, and only waiting for success to crown +his ambitions, before returning to her. Everybody else thought he had +drowned himself, because of some professional trouble. But Mrs. James's +faith has been the great romance of her life; and Barrie (or the little +woman herself, I don't know which) told Somerled the story the day they +left Carlisle in his car. Some details caught his attention, and made +him wonder if Mrs. James's instinct were not more right than other +people's reason. + +When Somerled went to America as a boy, he travelled in the steerage. On +board the same ship was a man calling himself James Richard, a man of +something over thirty, in whom Somerled became interested. They made +friends, though they gave each other no intimate confidences; and James +Richard made one or two remarks which suggested that he had been a +doctor. Evidently he was a man of culture, interested in many things, +including chemistry and Scottish history. After landing in New York the +two met occasionally by appointment, and the older man spoke of an +invention which, if he could get the help of some millionaire to perfect +it, ought to make his fame and fortune, and revolutionize anaesthetics; +but Somerled had thought little of this at the time. So many men he met +in those days had queer fads by means of which they hoped to achieve +glory. Soon, even before he himself reached success, Somerled and James +Richard drifted apart. The rising artist forgot the ship-acquaintance +with whom, owing to the difference in their ages and interests, he had +never had more than casual acquaintance. It was not until he heard the +story of Mrs. James's husband, the clever doctor who loved Scottish +history and had invented a new anaesthetic just before disappearing +seventeen years ago, that he remembered his shipmate, James Richard. +Then he recalled his appearance; and the descriptions tallied. A scar on +the forehead was a distinguishing mark with the man supposed to have +drowned himself and the man who had travelled to America in the +steerage. Somerled cabled at once to New York, instructing a firm of +private detectives to trace James Richard, an Englishman, probably a +doctor, who had landed in New York from a certain ship on a certain +date. + +The first reply was not very encouraging. The man had left New York many +years ago, and no one knew where he had gone. But the next cablegram +brought news that James Richard, or some one answering to the name and +description had been tracked to Chicago. There he had practised as a +doctor with some success, but had fallen seriously ill, had given up his +business, and had again disappeared. The detective "on the job" was +going to Colorado to look for him, as the climate of that state had been +recommended to Richard by a fellow practitioner. + +On the Monday morning after our arrival in Edinburgh, a third message +had come. This announced that the doctor had left Colorado and gone to +California, where he was now living at Riverside, with a rising +practice; but that he was considered a "crank," because he constantly +besieged rich men to start a laboratory in which to work out his +theories. Two or three had half promised their help, but for some reason +or other the financial schemes had fallen through. Still the man never +appeared to lose hope. Having received this news, Somerled wired direct +to the doctor, offering him as much money as he needed, if, before +anything further was settled, he would come over to Scotland and reveal +himself to his wife. + +Up to this time, Somerled had said nothing to Mrs. James, except that he +hoped to give her a pleasant surprise; and told her even this only +because she planned to go back to Carlisle, now that Barrie was with her +mother. Naturally Somerled had several important reasons for wishing the +little woman to stay; but the one, he alleged, was his desire to see +what she thought of the "surprise" when it came. + +He, of course, must have had visions of keeping this useful queen of +spades up his sleeve, that he might be ready to trump one of our knavish +tricks with her, at any moment; but the gods fought against him for +once. Just before theatre-time, arrived a long cablegram from James +Richard, alias Richard James. He thanked Somerled enthusiastically (Mrs. +James showed the message to me, and to every one of us), accepted his +loan, believing that eventually it could be repaid, and was more than +happy to hear news of his wife, whom he had left only for her own good, +because at that tune he considered himself disgraced and ruined. He had +intended suicide, but the thought of his invention had changed his mind +and plans at the last moment. He had gone to the new world to find what +the old had denied him, and after a hundred disappointments he was to be +rewarded, through Somerled. He asked now for nothing better than to +return, but only for long enough to see his wife, and take her back to +California with him. To his deep regret, however, he could not start at +once, as he had broken his leg and would not be able to travel for +several weeks at least. Would she come to him as soon as she could +settle her affairs? + +I imagine Somerled must have been sorely tempted not to show this +message, for it would rob him of Mrs. James and leave him where he had +been after his quarrel with Aline, minus a chaperon for Barrie, if he +could contrive to snatch the girl from Mrs. Bal. But he had said too +much about the "surprise" to suppress developments now. Besides, it +would have been almost inhuman to delay the meeting of the husband and +wife, so long parted. Neither would have forgiven him if he had coolly +kept them apart for his own convenience; but so grateful, so adoring to +her hero was Mrs. James, that if "the doctor" had not been ill and +needing her, I think of her own free will she would have offered to stop +in Edinburgh for a few days to "see what happened." As it was, there was +no question of her staying. She and Somerled arranged that she should +leave for Carlisle by the first train possible in the morning. At home +she was to settle her few affairs temporarily, and catch a quick ship +for New York, whence she would hurry on to California. + +Somerled gave her advice for the journey (and perhaps something more +substantial), but he must have seen that, though virtue might be its own +reward, he was unlikely to get any other. Mrs. Bal had lent Barrie to +us, and without a woman to aid and abet him, it seemed to me that he was +powerless. Such chaperons as Mrs. James don't grow on blackberry bushes +even in Scotland, where blackberries, if not gooseberries, are the best +in the world. Somerled had done for himself. + +Oh, there was no doubt of it this time! Not only had we, in the game of +chess we were quietly playing with him, got his little white queen in +check; we had swept her off the board. + + * * * * * + +Happenings began thick and fast the morning after. + +The first thing I heard was, from Aline, that at the theatre last night +(probably just after she sent us away) Mrs. Bal had told Morgan Bennett +in so many words that Barrie was practically engaged to me. After a +week's trip in my society it was to be expected that she would arrive in +Glasgow to ask her elder sister's blessing. + +This, Aline thought, necessitated our getting off at once, lest Bennett +should contrive to meet the girl alone somehow, and question her. If he +did this, the "fat would be in the fire" for Mrs. Bal, and perhaps for +me too. + +"The sooner the better," said I; for I was impatient to spirit the girl +away from Somerled, and turn her thoughts from him to me. If I prayed to +the heather moon for help, I felt that I ought to succeed; for the man +who can have a girl of eighteen to himself (not counting a few chaperons +lying about loose) in a motor-car for a week, passing through the +loveliest country in the world, and can't make her forget for his sake +some other fellow she's known only a few hours longer, must be a born +duffer. This I dinned into my consciousness. + +It was to be my first real chance with Barrie; and though never in my +life before have I made serious love to any flesh-and-blood girl, I've +made so much with my pen to the most difficult and diverse heroines, +that I had a certain belief in my own powers, once they had free play. + +The second thing that happened this morning of happenings, however, was +a slight setback, just enough of a setback to let me see that the +heather moon is a goddess who exacts more wooing from her votaries than +I had given. Or else, that she has her favourites, and is more ready to +look with a kindly eye on a man born to the heather than one who comes +from afar to write it up. + +Barrie, it appeared, had had a "scene" with Barbara. She had insisted +with tears and (according to Mrs. Bal) stampings of foot, that she +_would_ go to the Waverley station with Mrs. James and see her off for +Carlisle. + +Mrs. James was to be taken to the train by Somerled, in his car; and as +no one but Barrie had been invited, this meant that the girl would +return with him alone. To be sure, it would not take five minutes for +the Gray Dragon to slip from the Waverley end of Princes Street back to +the Caledonian. On the other hand, it was evident that Mrs. James must +have a special reason for choosing the Waverley station, when she could +just as well have gone from our own; and Aline and I could see only one. +Somerled wanted to snatch five minutes alone with Barrie; and he was not +the man to waste a single one of the five. The question was, what use +did he intend to make of his time? None of us could guess, for Somerled +is a puzzle too hard to read. Not even Aline (who was so nervous that, +figuratively speaking, she started at every sound in the enemy's camp) +believed that Somerled would try to run away with the girl. I soothed +her by saying that I thought it very doubtful whether Somerled would ask +the girl to marry him, even if everything were in his favour. I still +tried to believe that in his opinion she was too young and had seen too +little of life to settle down as a married woman. He might be in love +with her--to me it was beginning to seem impossible that a man could +know her and not be in love--but with a strong, self-controlled man of +Somerled's calibre, falling in love and marrying need not be the same +thing. + +Mrs. Bal, after the "scene" (in which she too, apparently, played a +stormy part) had angrily consented to give Barrie her own way, but only +on the girl's threat to decline making the trip with us, if thwarted. +Something in Barrie's eyes had warned the lady not to go too far, and on +her promise to return directly Mrs. James had gone, Mrs. Bal sulkily +waived her objections. + +"Why don't you, too, see Mrs. James off?" suggested Aline. "You've been +great friends. She ought to be complimented. And you might take her some +flowers. That would please Barrie, who is now worshipping Ian as a tin +saint on wheels because he has found Mrs. James's husband and offered to +finance him to success. You ought to do _something_." + +I thought this a good idea, and on the top of it had one of my own, +which I didn't mention to Aline, lest it should fail. Not only did I buy +flowers, the prettiest and most expensive I could find (worthy of Barrie +or Mrs. Bal), but a box of sweets, another of Scotch shortbread, a few +cairngorm brooches, and amethyst and silver thistles picked up at +random, and a copy of Aline's and my last book which I found (well +displayed) on the station book-stall. When Aline sees only one copy she +will not buy it, as she thinks it a pity the book should disappear from +public view; but this was an occasion of importance, and I didn't +hesitate to pluck the last fruit from the bough. + +When Mrs. James, Barrie, and Somerled arrived (Vedder being left in +charge of the car) there was I waiting, laden with offerings. I stuck to +the party till the end, waving my farewell as the train slowly moved +out, and then I summoned up courage (or impudence, depending on the +point of view) to ask if Somerled would take me back. "I walked here," I +said, "so as to do my little shopping for Mrs. James, and I came so fast +I've hardly got my breath back." + +I was prepared for some excuse to keep me out of the car; but I wronged +Somerled. If any one looked disappointed it was Barrie, not he. He said, +"Certainly; with pleasure," and there was nothing in his voice to +contradict the courtesy of his words. + +Thus, with surprising ease, I robbed him of the five minutes alone with +Barrie which he had planned. And though she sat in front with him--as +she had come, perhaps--and I was alone in my glory behind, they could +have no private conversation. + +When I went up to bid Aline good-bye (we were starting soon for +Linlithgow and Stirling), I told her of my small triumph; but it gave +her no great pleasure. + +"How do we know what he said to the girl going to the train?" she asked +suspiciously. "If there's anything up, it's certain that James woman is +in it. I'm sure she's warned Ian against you and me as well as Mrs. Bal. +She's as shrewd as a gimlet in her own funny way. You've remarked that +yourself. And she worships Ian, and thinks Barrie a little angel +abandoned in a wicked world. So if Ian wanted to talk, he wouldn't mind +Mrs. James. You'd better keep your eyes open this week, and notice +whether the girl seems dreamy and absent-minded, as if she expected +something to happen--something they may have arranged between them this +morning." + +I assured Aline that I needed no urging to keep my eyes on Barrie. She +then told me for the second time that she intended joining our party as +soon as Somerled left Edinburgh to follow us, as--she thought--he surely +would. "He wouldn't have gone a step while that girl was here with Mrs. +Bal," she exclaimed, almost fiercely, "but in spite of all he's said +about seeing old landmarks and looking up old friends, he'll be off +after you when you've taken Barrie away. Anyhow, I'm going to see +something of him while he's here if I can, for we are friends! He's +supposed to have forgiven me, and he can't refuse to come and cheer up +the invalid. I shall do the very best I can for myself--and when I find +he means to be off I shall mention casually, as a kind of coincidence, +that I'm going too, the same day, to join you; that you've wired or +something, and that Maud Vanneck and her husband have accepted an +invitation from Morgan Bennett to visit his sister, at that Round House +Mrs. Bal talked of. Perhaps Ian will offer to take me with him. I do +hope so. But I can't ask." + +As a matter of fact, poor Aline had racked her brains how to dispose of +the married Vannecks when she should be ready to take her place in +Blunderbore. As for George, she wished to keep and play with him, of +course, partly for her own amusement, partly for the moral effect upon +Somerled; but she didn't want to offend his brother and sister-in-law. +Still, they had to be got rid of eventually, as Blunderbore, with all +the faults of Noah's ark, has not the ark's accommodation for man and +beast. It was a happy thought to angle for an invitation, through Mrs. +Bal, for a few days at the Round House, as Maud Vanneck particularly +desired to see "Scottish life in a private family"; and it didn't occur +to her that a shooting-lodge hired by an American millionaire would not +be the ideal way of accomplishing her object. + +Mrs. Bal was not out of her room when we were ready to start, at eleven, +so I did not see her again; but the plainest, oldest, and carrotiest of +the three red-headed maids primly accompanied Barrie to the hotel door +with hand-luggage. By this time Blunderbore was puffing heavily in +feigned eagerness to be off, and Salomon, its owner and chauffeur, +shabby and sulky as usual, was giving the car a few last oily caresses +which should have been bestowed long ago in the privacy of the garage. +Have I forgotten to mention in these rambling notes that Somerled's +Vedder regards our Salomon with a silent yet plainly visible contempt, +akin to nausea? Whenever they happen to be thrown together for a few +minutes I see the smart-liveried Vedder criticizing with his mysterious +eyes the mean features of the weedy Salomon; his weak face with the +curious, splay mouth that falls far apart in speaking, almost as if the +jaw were broken; his old cloth cap, and his thin, short figure loosely +wrapped in a long, linen dust coat. Neither Aline nor I have had the +courage to remonstrate with Salomon on his get up, but when Vedder +regards him I burn with the desire to discharge the creature and his +car, despite our contract for a month. + +Barrie and I being on the spot, we could have got off, if the +Vannecks--invariably late--had not been missing. In desperation I dashed +into the hotel to look for them, and returned to find Somerled deep in +conversation with Barrie, who was in the car. I had left her standing in +the hotel doorway, with Mrs. Bal's maid: so Somerled in some way must +have caused that maid to disappear, and had then forestalled me by +helping Barrie into my car, tucking her comfortably in with the prettier +of my two rugs. + +I was just in time to hear him say "we shall meet"--but where and when +the meeting was to be, I did not know. That was the last of him for the +moment, however, as I had secured the two Vannecks, and we lumbered off +along the good, clear road to Linlithgow. Now it was "up to me" to make +my running with Barrie. + +I like driving, though in traffic I am secretly nervous; but as +Blunderbore provides no convenient perch for the chauffeur, and as +Salomon trusts no man except himself, he took the wheel, and I was free +to sit behind with my three guests. + +I'd been wondering what Barrie's mood would be, for I felt in my bones +that she was coming with us much against her will. She had not wanted to +leave Edinburgh, and I was sure that she could only have resigned +herself to doing so with Somerled and his Gray Dragon. I asked myself +whether she guessed, or whether Mrs. James had put it into her head, +that Aline and I had combined against what the girl no doubt believed to +be her "interests." I thought it not improbable that she would openly +show her distaste for the trip. As we went on, however, I began to +realize that Barrie had changed subtly in the days since meeting her +mother. She seemed suddenly to have grown up, to have become a woman. + +Was it the heart-breaking disappointment Mrs. Bal's reception had given +her? Or was it the five proposals of marriage flung at her head by those +mad young men who were now--thank goodness!--being left behind us, to +"dree their own wierds?" Or was it something quite different--something +which she and the heather moon alone knew? + +In any case, she was quiet, even dignified in her youthful way, very +polite and agreeable to the Vannecks and to me. I might have flattered +myself that she was happy enough, and glad of my society, if I hadn't +reflected that to sulk visibly would have been to blame Mrs. Bal. +Already I knew that loyalty was one of Barrie's everyday virtues. +Barbara could do no wrong! + +While the road (though good, and historic every step of the way) +remained unalluring to the eye, we chatted about Edinburgh, Barrie +rejoicing in having seen as much as she had before leaving the town. She +had browsed a little among the thrilling shops of Princes Street. With +one eye, so to speak, cocked up at the towering Castle Rock, with the +other she had scanned the gardens, Scott's monument, and everything else +worth seeing; then, with a sudden pounce, she had concentrated her gaze +on immense plate glass windows displaying Scottish jewellery, Scottish +books, Scottish cakes, and (to her) irrelevant Scottish tartans. Even +without need of them, their witching attraction had hypnotized her to +buy many of these things. + +"I don't know exactly what I shall do with them," she said; "but I'm +glad I've got them all, and I wish I had more!" + +It was Mrs. James who had been with her in her triumphal progress +through Princes Street; but it was I who had escorted her the whole +wonderful, sordid, glorious, pitiful length of the old High Street, the +Royal Mile of gorgeous ghosts. I had been there to see her face as she +caught glimpses of dark wynds where long ago men had fought to the death +and helped make history, where now colourful yet faded rags hang like +ancient banners, from iron frames, giving a fantastic likeness to side +streets of Naples: I had pointed out to her the stones which marked the +place where famous ones had murdered or been murdered, or had sought +sanctuary from murder. I had taken her all over the house of John Knox. +Together we had admired the oak carving in the room where he ate his +simple meals; and together we looked from the little window whence he +had poured his burning floods of eloquence upon the heads of the crowd +below. In the curiosity shop downstairs I had bought her a silver Heart +of Midlothian. She had stared into the rich dark shadows whence start +out, spirit-like, faces of old oil pictures, faces of old clocks, faces +of old marble busts; and she had been so charmed by the soft voice of +the young saleswoman, whose flute-like tones would lure gold from a +miser's pocket, that she would have collected half the things in the +shop if she had had the money. I wanted to give her bits of old +jewellery and miniatures of Queen Mary and Prince Charlie which she +fancied, but she would accept only the silver Heart of Midlothian, which +cost no more than a few shillings; and to-day, as I took her away from +Edinburgh, she was not wearing the little ornament, as I had hoped she +might. + +As the road grew prettier, we tore our thoughts away from Edinburgh, and +gave them to the highway illumined by history. At least, Barrie gave +hers, while I lent as many of mine as I could spare from her. And I had +to keep my wits about me, if I were to live up to the regulation of +Know-All I'd evidently attained in her eyes. + +In Linlithgow we expected to see at once the famous palace where Queen +Mary was born, but nothing was visible in what the French would call the +_place_, except the Town House, a new statue, and a graceful copy of an +old fountain. We had to turn up an unpromising side street to find at +last a beautiful little gateway between dumpy octagonal towers, such as +the old masters loved to put in the background of their pictures. +Passing through was like walking into one of those pictures, getting +round the hidden corner as one always longs to do on canvas. Before our +eyes rose majestically the colossal shell of a palace, with carved +golden walls, a vast courtyard, cyclopean round towers, and wonderful +windows full of sky and dreams. Close by was the noble church where +James IV had his vision warning him not to go to war with England. + +Somerled had talked to Barrie about Linlithgow, doubtless in the hope of +making her think of him when there. He had called it the "finest +domestic architectural ruin in all Scotland," and told her of Lord +Rosebery's suggestion to restore and make of it a great national museum. +I was glad for every reason that Somerled wasn't with us, and, for one, +because he would have overshadowed me entirely with his knowledge of +architecture, which he contrives to use picturesquely, not ponderously. +All I could do was to rhapsodize in a way Barrie likes well enough when +she can get nothing better, painting for her a rough word-picture of the +palace in days when rich gilding still glittered on the quaint wall +statues, when crystal jets spouted from the lovely fountain, green with +moss now as with thick verdigris--when knights in armour rode into the +quadrangle to be welcomed by fair ladies, while varlets led tired horses +to distant stables. Those were the days when the Livingstons were +keepers of the palace for the King, long before they lost their lands +and titles for love of Prince Charlie; days when the memory of Will +Binnock was honoured still, that "stout earle" who helped wrest +Linlithgow from English Edward's men by smuggling soldiers into the +palace precincts, concealed in a load of hay. + +We wandered almost sadly through the splendid rooms where Queen Mary +first saw the light, the week her father died: through "the King's +room," with its secret staircase under a trap door, and its view over a +blue lake where swans floated like winged water-lilies. Then, when we +had bought a specially bound copy of "Marmion" (which ought to be read +at Linlithgow), and post cards and souvenirs that seemed important at +the moment and useless afterward, we took the road to Stirling. + +There was no time to stop in Falkirk (when is there ever time to stop in +motoring?), for the car was running unusually well for Blunderbore. So +instead of pausing to meditate over battle scenes, as Vanneck pretended +he wished to do, we sailed through the long, straight street which seems +practically to constitute the town. Here we had almost our first glimpse +of industrial Scotland as opposed to picturesque Scotland, which was in +these August days becoming the playground of Britain and America. +Falkirk is a coalfield as well as a battlefield, and the murk of +collieries and iron works darkens the sky as once did the smoke of +gunpowder: but the place holds its old interest for the mind; and not +far off we came to the Wallace Monument; then to Bannockburn. Because of +Barrie's love for the Bruce, we got out and walked to the Bore Stone +where he stood to direct the battle so fatal to the English. After this +we were close to St. Ninian's, and to Stirling, though the day was still +young; but there was lots to see, and I wanted to go on before dusk, to +spend the night in Crieff. We lunched at one of those nice old-fashioned +hotels whose heraldic names alone are worth the money; and as we started +on foot to walk through the ancient town and mount to its high crown, +the Castle, I began to appreciate Aline's arrangements for my benefit. + +Maud Vanneck being a model of wifely jealousy, kept Fred to herself, and +Barrie was my companion. This was delightful. No such good thing had +come to me since making her acquaintance. On the way up the quaint, +steep street, there came a shower of rain, and I had to shelter her with +my umbrella. It was an umbrella of blessedly mean proportions, which +meant that she must keep close to my side, and I said, "Come what may I +shall have this and a few other things to remember!" + +Up in the Castle, we two decided that we had after all made a mistake in +calling Edinburgh Castle Scotland's heart. Here was that organ, and we +could almost feel it throbbing under our feet. We forgot that we had +selected several other hearts for Scotland. Here was the right one at +last! + +What a view to look out upon, with the One Girl by your side! Over our +heads and far away, clouds turned the rolling mountains to snowpeaks +that dazzled in the sun, and under our eyes seemed to lie all Scotland, +spread out like a vast brocaded mantle of many colours: the plain of the +Forth, the Ochil hills and the hills of Fife; the purple peaks round +Loch Lomond, and here and there a glitter of water like broken glass on +a floor of gold. Ten counties we could see, and eight great battlefields +which helped to make Scotland what it is. The horizon was carved in +shapes of azure--strange, wild, mountainous shapes; and the noble heads +of Ben Lomond, Ben Ledi, and Ben A'an were laurelled and jewelled for us +by memories of Scott. + +Sitting where Queen Mary sat on her velvet cushions, and looking through +her peephole in the thick stone wall, I was almost irresistibly tempted +to make love to Barrie. My heart so went out to her that it seemed she +must respond: and the Vannecks had wandered to another part of the +battlements; but she kept me to my task of cicerone. I had to answer a +dozen questions. I had to tell her about Agricola forging his chain of +forts across the narrow land between the Clyde, and the Forth "that +bridles the wild Highlander." She would be satisfied with nothing less +than the unabridged stories of Edward I's siege of this "gray bulwark of +the North," the murder of the powerful Douglas by his treacherous host +King James II; the building of and the mysterious curse upon Mar's Work, +and twenty other human documents not half so moving, had she but known +it, as the story of Basil Norman's first and only love. Once or twice I +thought she guessed that I wished to speak of myself and her, and that +she deliberately held me at arm's length, like a young person of the +world dealing with an ineligible at the end of her second season. I +almost hated King Edward, and more especially Agricola! + +Then, worst of all, before we had half finished our tour of the Castle +and its wonders, rain began to fall out of one cloud stationed directly +over our heads in the midst of a sun-bright sky. I could almost have +believed that Somerled in spite had sent it after us, like a wet +blood-hound to track us down. We took shelter in the room where the +Douglas was murdered; and who could make love against such a background? +Not I: though perhaps gay King James V might have been equal to it. One +does not hear that any ghost dogged his footsteps as he crept joyously +in disguise out from that dark little chamber into the subterranean +passage, which led the "Guid man of Ballangeich" to his Haroun +Al-raschid adventures in the night. + + * * * * * + +The next few days live in my memory as dreams live. They were beautiful. +They would have been more beautiful if I could have flattered myself +that Barrie was learning to care for me in the way she might have cared +for Somerled, if we had left them in peace. But she was always the +same--except that, as the world grew more enchanting in beauty and +poetic associations, she blossomed into a sweet expansiveness, losing +the reserve in which she had been veiled when first we started. + +It ought to have been ideal, this moving from scene to scene with the +one girl I ever wanted for my own, since I was thirteen and worshipped a +tank mermaid in green spangles. That was the hard part! It ought to have +been ideal and--it wasn't. I should think a rather well meaning Saracen +chieftain who had captured a Christian maiden might have felt somewhat +as I felt from day to day. He had got her. She couldn't escape from him +and his fortress; but, even with her hand in his, she contrived to elude +him. + +So it was with me. Old Blunderbore went well on the whole, not counting +a few minor ailments of second childhood which attacked him occasionally +when he saw a stiff hill ahead, or when he had heard me say I was in a +hurry. The Vannecks were perfection as chaperons, not through +supernatural tact and unselfishness, but because Maud feared the effect +upon Fred of too much Barrie. She laid herself out to charm her husband. +Never an "I told you so!" Never a nagging word or look. She chatted to +Fred in the car, and saw sights with him out of the car. This, she said, +was almost like a second honeymoon. But of the heather moon she had +never heard. It was ours--Barrie's and mine: yet I could not induce the +girl to speak of it. For all she would say, she might have forgotten its +existence. Always, especially when the heather moon tried to give us its +golden blessing, an invisible presence seemed to stand between us, as if +Somerled had sent his astral body to keep us apart. + +As to Somerled in the flesh, there was a mystery at this time. To me at +Perth came a telegram from Aline saying: + + "S. has left his car and chauffeur here and gone away without a + word to any one. Has he come after you? Wire immediately." + +I obeyed, replying: + + "Seen and heard nothing of S. Will let you have all news. Hope you + will do the same by me. Am sending you our route, but suppose you + will arrive in few days." + +Her answer came to St. Andrews, at a jolly, golfing sort of hotel where +I ought to have been as happy as the day was long. + + "As S. has not joined you prefer stop on here. Eyes not well yet. + Mr. Bennett's sister has influenza. She would prefer Maud and Fred + visit Round House later--say toward end of next week." + +I had no faith in that attack of influenza. The microbe was probably +hatched in conversation between Aline and Mrs. Bal, who had by this time +become tremendous allies. My theory was that Aline, knowing Somerled not +to be near Barrie, had settled down to enjoy the fleeting moment. She +might not be happy, but I could understand that the society of Mrs. Bal +(who evidently wanted her) was preferable to motoring with a brother, +and a girl of whom she was jealous. + +The same day came a long expensive wire to Barrie from her mother: + + "So sorry darling but unfortunately must put you off. Don't come + first of Glasgow week. Wait till Saturday, arriving late afternoon + or evening. Mrs. West says her friends and brother will like + keeping you till then so you needn't worry. We can have nice visit + together later and settle everything for you in some delightful + way. Making plans now. Don't forget you for a moment. Best reasons + for delay. Will explain when we meet. Sending you letter with + little present of money. Don't stint yourself. Write often. Tell me + all that interests you. Ever your loving Barbara." + +"Why do you suppose she can't have me the first of the week?" Barrie +asked piteously, when she had shown this message. + +"I can't say, I'm sure," I cautiously replied. This was literally true. +I could not say: but I could guess. And a letter from Aline which came +two or three days later, confirmed my Sherlockian deductions. + + "My DEAR OLD BOY" [she wrote]: "I was so glad to get your + telegram, and meant to have written at once, but waited on second + thoughts to have a little more news. It is a relief to know that + Ian hasn't followed that girl. Of course I feel it as much for your + sake as my own, for he is a dangerous rival to any man. It _is_ odd + where he can have gone; though he may turn up here again any day, + as he has left his car and chauffeur. If he had wanted to be nice, + he might have offered me the use of both while he was away; but I + suppose he blames me for lending myself to Mrs. Bal's wishes about + Barrie. Very unreasonable of him, as you have a perfect right to do + what you like with the car you've hired, and if Mrs. Bal didn't + want her daughter to see too much of _him_, what fault is it of + mine? + + "I try to amuse myself as well as I can and forget my worries, + however, and Mrs. Bal and Morgan Bennett are being very nice. I + don't think he's proposed yet, or she would have told me, for we're + great friends; but she's pretty sure to land him before he leaves + for America, as he is to do the end of her Glasgow week, for a + short business trip. I expect to be asked to congratulate them the + night before he sails! What a good thing for her and _every one_ + that the Vannecks can stand by you longer than we planned. I think, + unless you wire me that Ian has appeared upon the scene, I'll stay + with Mrs. Bal for her Glasgow week, as she has invited me, and + then, when the Vannecks go to the Round House, you can bring Barrie + back to her mother." + +This explained Mrs. Bal's "best of reasons." + +Days went on, and Somerled did not come to our part of the world, which +was by this time the heart of the Highlands; but I felt in my bones that +Barrie was hearing from him, writing to him; that she knew what I did +not know, the mystery of his absence. Of course I could have found out +if she were receiving letters from him, for Somerled's handwriting is +unmistakable; but villain or no villain, I had to draw the line +somewhere, and I drew it at spying upon her. + +Aline did go to Glasgow with Mrs. Bal. She wrote to tell me how, with +Morgan Bennett in his biggest motor-car, "_much_ higher powered and +smarter than poor Ian's," she and Mrs. Bal and George Vanneck had sped +away from Edinburgh on Sunday morning early, had a look at their rooms +in Glasgow, and dashed on to Arrochar, where they all stopped till +Monday afternoon. + + "Such an exquisite road!" [said Aline]. "You would have loved it. + High green bank on one side, with cataracts of bracken delicate as + maidenhair; dark rocks, wrapped in velvet moss. Trees holding up + screens of green lace between your eyes and the blue water of the + loch. Pebbles white and round as pearls, or silver coins dropped by + fairies in a big "flit." That's one of _your_ similes! Grass + running down to the edge of the water, and full of bluebells. Water + the colour of drowned wallflowers. I don't believe your Highland + lochs can be prettier or more idyllic, though this is so close to + Glasgow. + + "We have had a day going through the Kyles of Bute, too--the same + party: and a marvellous run along the shores of the Clyde to + Skelmorlie. Such red rocks there, and even the sand red. There was + a pink haze over everything, like a perpetual sunset. I'm not sure + which was better, that, or a trip to Crinan. The dearest little + place at the end of the Crinan canal--just a flower-draped hotel, + and a sea-wall and a lighthouse, with a distant murmur of + 'Corrievrechan's tortured roar,' mingled with the crying of gulls. + What a place for you and Barrie to spend your honeymoon! You see, I + speak as if it were certain. Anyhow, I'm sure it all depends on + yourself. _Courage, mon brave_!" + +But that is exactly the quality which the villain of the piece lacks at +present. + + + + +BOOK IV + +WHAT BECAME OF BARRIE + + + + +I + +Letter From Barrie Macdonald To Ian Somerled Macdonald + + DEAR SIR KNIGHT: I was glad the morning we saw Mrs. James off that + you said you'd like to hear from me, and if I needed help or + comfort in any trouble I must let you know. I haven't such an + excuse for writing to you now, but you did say that you wanted to + hear anyway, and that you'd find out where we were going, so you + could wire me your plans. Now I've had two telegrams from you, and + a letter; and if they hadn't come I should have been disappointed. + I thought we might have seen you and the Gray Dragon before this, + but the telegrams have made me understand. That is, I _don't_ + understand, because what you tell me sounds very mysterious. Still, + as you went back to Carlisle and are now in London, it is no use + hoping to see the Gray Dragon's bonnet flash into sight round some + complicated Highland corner. + + What _could_ have taken you to call on Grandma again? I am almost + dying of curiosity. You say 'perhaps you may be able to explain + when we meet': but everybody is saying that to me, just now--at + least, Barbara is, about not letting me go back to Glasgow till the + end of her week there--so it is rather aggravating. Still, it is + good to know that we may meet. I wonder when? You don't give me a + hint, and it stirs up my curiosity from deeper depths to be told, + as if you half expected me to guess what you mean, that 'you're in + London for reinforcements.' Shall I ever know? It seems a long time + since I said good-bye to you in front of the Caledonian Hotel. Not + that I'm having a dull trip. I should be very dull myself if that + were true, for everything is beautiful, and every one kind. It is + the most wonderful luck for a girl like me, who had never seen + anything in her life, suddenly to be seeing all Scotland. But I had + grown rather _used_ to seeing things with you and Mrs. James, after + I escaped from the 'glass retort,' and I can't accustom myself yet + to being with others, and you far away--Mrs. James too, of course. + I try to console myself if I feel a tiny bit homesick, thinking how + happy she is, and how wonderful everything is going to be for her + and her strange, unpractical doctor. It was splendid of you to give + him all that money. But wouldn't it have been fun if he could have + come over, instead of her going to him? Maybe, if it had turned out + so, you would be in the Highlands now. + + Do you remember how I used to say that _my_ tour under the heather + moon would soon be over, but you would be going on just as if we + had never met? Well, it has turned out quite differently, hasn't + it, for both of us? Only the heather moon is the same. But I never + talk of her now that you are gone. + + I don't want you to think I am ungrateful to _any one_, if I sign + myself, Your rather homesick little 'princess,' + + BARRIE. + + P.S.--It does not seem right to have crossed over the borderline + into our Highlands without you! + + +LETTER FROM BARRIE TO HER MOTHER + + DEAREST,DARLING BARBARA: Can it really be that it won't + bother you to have me write to you often and tell you everything + interesting that happens? You see, I might think it interesting, + and you might think it a bore. I know you are easily bored, dear, + so I am not quite sure what I ought to write. I can only tell you + about seeing places, because that is all we do. But they are so + beautiful, perhaps you may like to hear. If I write about the wrong + things, do promise that you'll speak out and tell me to stop. I + won't let my feelings be hurt. + + Basil is trying to show me as much of Scotland as he possibly can, + he says, before I 'get tired of him and Blunderbore.' That is a bad + way to put it, and so I have told him, because I should be horribly + ungrateful to tire of him. But he says he dislikes gratitude and + thinks it an overestimated virtue. + + I suppose you have often been in Scotland before, and you are not + Scottish yourself, so perhaps you can't quite feel as I do about + it. Basil, who has travelled so much, says that Scotland has in + miniature almost all the picked bits of scenery of other countries; + but they do not _appear_ to be in miniature when you're motoring + through them. They seem on an enormous scale; and each beauty spot + is different from every other. You can't help remembering and + keeping them apart in your mind, though there are so many that they + are crowded together, all over the map. I think of the map of + Scotland being purple, like heather, don't you? And if I have to + live anywhere else, I shall always be homesick for this country + now. If we are not in some fairy-like, green glen, we are in a wild + and awesome mountain pass; or else in a blue labyrinth of lochs; or + we come out upon endless, billowing moorlands; or suddenly we find + ourselves on a long road like an avenue in some great private park, + with the singing of a river in our ears. + + Poor Basil sometimes feels ashamed of Blunderbore, and certainly + it _is_ different from travelling in Mr. Somerled's Gray Dragon. + With the Dragon, spirits of the wind used to rush out of forests to + meet and dash ozone in our faces. With Blunderbore, if they come at + all, they merely spray us lazily. + + Going from Stirling to Crieff we crossed the borderline of the + Highlands. There was a park-like world round the Bridge of Allan: + and at Ardoch, the greatest Roman station left in Britain, lots of + turfed banks showing still where 26,000 Romans tried to bridle the + Northern Caledonians, the red-haired people. I'm glad they never + quite succeeded! + + Crieff was sweet, and all round it, half hidden in woods, the most + beautiful houses. But Basil had forgotten to wire, so we couldn't + get into one of the nice hotels, but stayed in a very funny one. + When Mrs. Vanneck asked for communicating rooms, the landlady said, + 'Oh, _no_, Madam, we've no such things as _that_ in _our_ house!' + + We went on to Perth early next morning, and every minute along the + road we seemed to be passing happy people who'd come to play in + Scotland: nice golfing girls and men, and men with guns over their + shoulders, or followed by gillies with fishing-tackle. I wish men + could amuse themselves, though, don't you, without killing + creatures more beautiful and happy than themselves? + + It was such a pretty road, past Methven, where, alas! the English + beat Bruce; and if I hadn't been grieved to find that by John + Knox's advice all the nicest buildings had been pulled down, I + shouldn't have felt disappointed in Perth. It is a very fine town + anyhow, with glorious trees; and the two great bridges over the Tay + are splendid if they _are_ made of iron. They look as if people had + planned them especially to give all the view there could be of the + sunset. + + Of course the 'Fair Maid's' house was the most interesting thing. + I hope it really was hers. I don't see why not. It _is_ in the old + glover's quarter. And the shrine with the crucifix and death's head + and cross-bones they found hidden in the wall of her room is too + fascinating. I could just see her praying there, so beautiful that + all the young men of Perth were in love with her. And talking of + the young men of Perth, Basil says the ball in the Games Week is + supposed to be the best show of the year--such splendid men come. I + should love to see them in the kilt, with their brown knees, like + the pipers in Edinburgh. + + St. Andrews was our next place, and we arrived the same day, for + we didn't stop in Perth after we had seen the sights there. I + wonder if you have been to St. Andrews? I know so little about you + yet, dearest. I fell in love with the place--not so much with the + links (though they must be the most beautiful as well as the most + famous in the world) as with that old ruined castle built on the + dark rocks rising out of the sea. I know I shall dream of the + awful, bottle-necked dungeon! Basil said it was the worst thing he + had ever seen except at Loches. I hope it isn't wicked to be + pleased that Cardinal Beaton, after he sat in his window to watch + Wishart burn, was soon killed, and salted, and preserved in the + same dungeon where he used to keep martyrs. The 'undergrads' of the + University looked so attractive in their red gowns, and the girl + students in their mortar boards! They were like scarlet birds, + against the gray walls and gray arches of the town. But I suppose + people in St. Andrews think even more about golf than about + learning, don't they? There were hundreds of all ages on the + links--so grave and eager: and at the hotels they _never_ know when + anybody will come in to meals. There's the cemetery, too; that + shows the importance of golf. All the 'smartest' monuments are of + famous golfers, knitted caps and clubs and everything, neatly done + in marble. But I wonder anybody ever contrives to die at St. + Andrews. I never felt such delicious air! + + Crossing the ferry for Dundee was fun. It was a very big boat, and + several other motors on it as well as ours. We sat in Blunderbore + all the way across the wide sheet of silver that was the Tay, + gazing up at the marvellous giant bridge, and then we spent several + hours in Dundee, seeing the Steeple, and Queen Mary's Orchard, and + lots of things. This was so near the Round House that I suppose the + Vannecks would have gone if it hadn't been for me. But I am the + stumbling block in everybody's way. + + Going on to Aberdeen, we ran along a fine coast dotted with ruined + castles--Dunottar for one, where the Regalia was hidden once. + + We stopped at Arbroath, which Doctor Johnson admired, to see the + great shell of an Abbey, red as dried blood; and all the old town + is built out of it, so no wonder there isn't much left but an + immense nave. But just think, Arbroath is Sir Walter Scott's + 'Fairport,' and I must read "The Antiquarian" again, all about the + caves and the secret treasure found in them. As for the treasure of + the Abbey, it is nothing less than the heart of William the Lion. + He had it nicely buried near the high altar, as long ago as the + twelfth century, wasn't it? But in 1810 they dug it up, found it + had ossified, and now they simply have it lying about in a glass + case, practically mixed up with the bones of a lady who left money + to the Abbey (she wouldn't, if she'd known what they'd do!) and the + singularly long thigh bones of a particularly wicked earl. It was + an earl who married a sister of the Lion's, and, because he was + jealous, threw her out of the window. + + We had to go through Montrose, where the great Marquis was born, + and where Sir James Douglas set sail with the Bruce's heart (what a + lot of hearts there were travelling about then!) and where now the + most curiously exciting things are the Bridie Shops. I _had_ to + know what a 'bridie' meant, so we stopped to see; but it's only a + rolled meat pasty they love in Forfarshire; and brides are supposed + to batten on them at their weddings. To please me, Basil would have + made a detour to see 'Thrums,' which is really Kerriemuir, you + know. And we should have had to pass through Forfar--the 'Witches + Har'--and go on the road that leads to mysterious, wonderful + Glamis. I was longing to do it, but Mrs. Vanneck wanted to arrive + in Aberdeen in time to do some shopping! I gave up like a lamb, + almost hating her inwardly; but afterward I felt better about it, + for the Aberdeen shops are so nice. They sell pink pearls, out of + Scottish rivers--perfect beauties. I bought you a brooch, and I do + hope you'll like it. I don't know much about such things; and of + course you have gorgeous jewellery; but this pearl is such a + wonderful colour, like snow touched with sunrise. + + My eyes and hair were full of granite by the time we got to + Aberdeen, because the road is made of it, and the dust sparkles + like diamonds. + + So does Aberdeen sparkle like diamonds. I shouldn't have thought a + city all gray like that, could be so handsome. But it is a gray + bright and silky as the wings of doves, and in some lights pale as + moonbeams. Sunset was beginning when we arrived, and on the houses + and bridges and river, and even on the pavements of the broad + streets, there was the same gray-pink sheen as on the pearl I + bought for you. + + In the morning we went to see the University, and the Cathedral + with its lovely rose-pink pillars, and old painted Scandinavian + ceiling. Everything would have passed off charmingly, if Basil had + not begun to be rather foolish and unlike himself, while he and I + were in the Cathedral together. Fortunately, an old friend of his + he hadn't seen for years, appeared unexpectedly at the critical + moment, and invited us to visit him near Aboyne. I hadn't quite + time to say 'no' to Basil definitely, and we haven't gone back to + the subject since, so I am hoping for the best. I used to think it + would be _heavenly_ to have a proposal, but now, I realize that it + is much overrated. + + Your loving + BARRIE, + Who hopes she hasn't bored you. + + +LETTER FROM BARRIE TO SOMERLED + + DEAR SIR KNIGHT: I must write to tell you what a surprise + I had in Aberdeen. Basil took us all to a biograph theatre--the + first one I ever saw--and one set of pictures was labelled, 'A + Gretna Green Wedding of the Olden Days.' How my heart beat!--and + not for nothing, because, oh, Sir Knight, it was _our_ wedding! My + face never showed once, but the hair looked like mine; and _your_ + face was just like yours and nobody else's, in spite of the + old-fashioned costume. Basil said out loud, 'By Jove!' and the + Vannecks recognized you, and asked all sorts of questions. I had to + tell them the story, but I didn't mind a bit. In fact, I think I + was proud. The pictures were coloured, so perhaps that was one + reason they guessed, for my hair was so red. I told Basil I always + wanted to be married at Gretna Green, and now I _have_ been. But he + had the air of being rather _shocked_. I shouldn't have thought he + was that kind of person. + + Afterward, he was afraid that he had offended me; but I hadn't + cared at all. However, he has been kinder than ever since, as if to + make up. Walking about in the Cathedral next day, we met a + delightful man, actually the _Head of a Clan_, who had been in + Canada and had known Basil there. He invited us to visit at his + place near Aboyne, on Deeside--just think, not far from where + Macbeth was killed!--and of course that enchanted Mrs. Vanneck, who + has an insatiable yearning to see the inside of Scottish houses. + His is a beautiful house. I must tell you about it. Maybe you + remember the road from Aberdeen to Aboyne, through lovely forests + and mountains, and how by and by you come to Deeside, and the + Grampians. The Chieftain we went to visit owns a whole mountain, + and many miles of land besides; and when you arrive at his estate + there are no gates to drive into. You wind on and on, along an + exquisite avenue through the woods, and you would not know you were + on any one's property if you hadn't been told beforehand, though it + is all beautifully kept--not too smart and trim, but just right to + be picturesque and romantic. There's no impression of 'This is + mine, not yours. _You_ are here only on sufferance!' Instead, the + trees and hills and heather seem to say gently, 'This is a part of + the world where our master lives, because it is lovely and he loves + it. He makes you welcome to come and go as you will, whoever you + are, as if it were your own.' Don't you think that is a charming + impression? And afterward we found out that the doors of this + Chieftain's house are never locked. Mostly in the summer they stand + wide open all night, although he has beautiful old silver, and + quantities of valuable pictures and things which have been in his + family more or less ever since there was a Scotland. It is a dear + old sixteenth-century house, with networks of black oak beams, and + lots of quaint bow-windows that look out on lovely lawns and + flower-gardens, and box or holly hedges, and yew trees cut in + fantastic shapes. + + We stayed one whole day and two nights. Wasn't it good of him to + have us? In all the corridors there are carpets and curtains of the + Chieftain's hunting tartan. I loved it. I do hope you have dogs' + heads and antlers, and tartan curtains and carpets and things at + your castle at Dhrum? It is yours, you know! I wonder if I shall + ever see it? + + I can't tell you how excited I was when the Chieftain and several + other Highland men he had staying in his house-party wore the kilt + to dinner. All their knees were baked to exactly the right brown; + but he was the smartest of the men (though some were very young and + handsome), because he, being the head of the Clan, had a green + velvet coat. Poor Basil and Mr. Vanneck in their ordinary evening + things looked like _nothing at all_. I was quite sorry for them, + but so glad I hadn't to sit by one at the table, as I wanted only + to talk to the kilted men. I wore that white frock you chose for + me--do you remember?--and a sash of the MacDonald of Dhrum dress + tartan, which I found in Aberdeen. All during dinner the pipers + piped, and I was so thrilled I could scarcely eat. Afterward there + was an impromptu dance in a bare, tartan-draped room, where it + seemed that Macbeth could quite well have been entertained. I + thought I should have to look on, of course, as I've never learned + to dance; but that dear Chieftain taught me the 'Petronella,' which + is very pretty and easy to pick up. It seems as if one could not + help dancing to the music of the pipes; don't you find it so? Queen + Mary is supposed to have introduced the Petronella to Scotland, the + tallest man with the brownest knees told me; and Francis I brought + it from Spain to France. It is quite a Spanish sort of dance, + though Scotland has adopted it. I learned a lovely Highland + schottische, too; and after I had seen others dancing the reels + (ought I to say foursomes or eightsomes?) I tried those too, and + got on well, everybody said. But the reel is a dance you can dance + _only_ with your own hair. Mine, which I had pinned up very neatly, + came down. And one of the girls had a curl come _off_. Luckily she + didn't seem to care. She said that accidents would happen on the + best regulated heads. + + I do so wonder, by the way, what a Highlander would do if he + happened to be born with legs so crooked that he couldn't wear the + kilt? I suppose he would have to emigrate when very young, or else + stop in bed all his life. + + In the morning a dignified piper named Donal played us awake, + walking round and round the house. It delayed my dressing + dreadfully, pausing to gaze him out of sight every time he passed + under my window. I could have cried when he stopped; but he played + more while we had breakfast. I sat next to an Englishman, and would + you believe it, the loveliest lament got on his horrid nerves, and + he said in a low voice, 'Shall I be able to _live_ through it?' If + I had been engaged to him I should have broken it off at once. + + The Chieftain has a friend who is a Princess--not a little + 'pretend' princess like me, but a real one with a capital 'P'--and + he introduced us to her at a big garden party he was having at his + place on our day there. 'They are going on to Braemar to-morrow,' + he said; and she being as kind and hospitable as he, promptly + invited us to lunch with her at Braemar Castle. Mrs. Vanneck was + pale with joy! + + We left from the Chieftain's early in the morning, and Donal + played us away, on the best run Blunderbore has given us yet, + through what I am sure is true Highland scenery. There are castles + dotted about everywhere; and I saw my first Highland + cattle--adorable little shaggy beasts with forelocks like sporans, + and innocent short faces. Their eyes were so wide apart it seemed + that they might be able to see round all the corners. A cherubic + bull tried to charge Blunderbore, but changed his mind at the last + moment owing to the persuasions of his female friends. The rough, + dark brown forms somehow emphasized the beauty of the wild + background, the hills painted golden and purple with bracken and + heather, the mountains (for there seem always to be mountains in + the distance in Scotland) looking exactly the colour of violets + against the hyacinth blue of the sky. All sorts of Highland things + got in our way, counting deer; and I made up rules for creatures + which it would be very useful if they could be taught to obey. + 'Bulls kindly requested not to charge motor-cars. No sitting down + or cud-chewing allowed in the middle of roads. Deer will please, + when darting across, start at least six yards ahead of motors. + Chickens will keep to their own side of the road when they have + chosen it three times. Rabbits not to run directly ahead of the car + for more than three miles at a stretch.' + + As we lumbered along with Blunderbore, each heather-dyed hill that + rolled out of our way disclosed a new, or rather a very old, + castle. I should think there must be as many castles in this part + of the world as there are cottages. I know we saw more! except + perhaps those sweet little dwellings grouped together in the + charming villages of Ballater and Braemar. No wonder the King and + Queen love this part of the world. Basil thought everything here + quite foreign-looking: but there's always that French spirit in + Scotland, isn't there? I'm sure the coffee is so good just because + of that. + + It was fun having luncheon at Braemar Castle, which has more + turrets than you can count without knowing it well. Each room + nearly has a turret, and some have two: and on the thick wooden + shutters names of soldiers quartered in the Castle after Prince + Charlie days are roughly carved. Of _course_ there's a dungeon, and + a secret way to the far-off village and river: and when you enter + you have to wind up and up a tower stairway with here and there a + little deep-set iron-barred window to give you light. I wish you + could see the Princess's Persian dog, Mirzan, of the oldest race of + dogs in the world: yellow-white as old ivory, tall and thin and + graceful as a blowing plume. He takes strange attitudes like dogs + in pictures by old masters; and you feel he can't be real. He must + have stepped stealthily out from a dim tapestry hanging on one of + the thick stone walls, and he will have to go back to his place + beside the sleeping tapestry knight, as soon as he has finished + running after the doves, who have left their dovecote and are + balancing with their coral feet on the battlements, or walking in + the courtyard. Seeing this castle of the Princess's makes me quite + envy you having Dunelin. I should like to live in a castle. _Do_ + buy Dunelin, as you said you sometimes thought of doing, and invite + me to be a humble little member of one of your big house-parties. + Your deserted princess, BARRIE. + + +LETTER FROM BARRIE TO HER MOTHER + + DEAREST BARBARA: Every prospect pleases and only man is + vile. At least, I don't mean vile, but upsetting. It is too bad + about Basil. I don't know what to do. I hope _you_ aren't hoping + that I may fall in love with him? Something he said makes me think + _he_ believes you want it. But why should you? You don't know him + and his sister so very well. They aren't old friends. Darling, if I + am a bother to you--and I know I am--I'll go far away and change my + name and do anything you like, except marry Basil. It isn't that + I'm too young. It seems to me if I loved a man desperately I should + like to marry him while I was young, so as to give him all my + years, and because I should grudge the days and weeks and months + lived away from him. But Basil is just like a brother. He might + hold my hand all day, and I shouldn't have a single thrill, which + he says is the way for a girl to find out whether she's really in + love. + + Everything might be so pleasant, if it weren't for this silliness. + We have seen Elgin, which has the most exquisite ruined Cathedral + that ever lived or died; and sweet Pluscarden Abbey not far off; + and Forres, full of memories of Macbeth; and a mysterious carved + shaft of sandstone called Sweno's Stone; and the hidden, secret + glen of the Findhorn River, where we had to get out, and walk for + miles through a gorge of the most entrancing beauty. Sometimes it + was wild and grand, sometimes peaceful as a dream of fairyland. + Every kind of lovely tree grew there, out of sheer, rocky walls red + as coral, or pale and glistening as gray satin; and you looked far + down on water brown as the brown of dogs' eyes--deep pools, and a + hundred rapids and tiny cataracts filling the glen with their + singing. But Mr. and Mrs. Vanneck would walk far ahead of us on the + steep narrow paths, which were so slippery I had to let Basil help + me, and it was most embarrassing and futile to keep refusing him + all the time. He says we were meant for each other, but I know + better! + + You remember, don't you, dear, I didn't want to take this trip? My + feeling must have been a presentiment. + + At Culloden Moor I couldn't help crying a little over Prince + Charlie and his brave Highlanders, for I think no other battlefield + can keep its sadness and romantic pathos, and its effect upon the + mind as that does. You know it's almost within sight and sound of + the sea; and the voice of the wind among the pines--dark, straight + ranks of pines like soldiers in mourning, standing in a + bloodstained sea of heather--seemed to me like the wail of ghostly + pipes playing a Highland lament. Wandering among the wavy graves + and piled cairns of the different clans who gave their lives in + vain for Prince Charlie, I was with Basil all alone, for those + wretched Vannecks would go off by themselves, as usual, in the most + marked way. He made me wipe my eyes with his handkerchief, and then + folded it up to 'keep forever.' He does choose the strangest places + to make love, and always contrives the minute the others go away, + to bring the subject round to that. Luckily we are all four + together in the car, as the chauffeur drives, but even there he + looks at me, which is quite getting on my nerves. Yesterday I asked + to sit in front, saying I wanted more air. It was after leaving + Inverness; and I had the best of it, quite by accident. It was a + horrid road, almost the only bad one we've had; full of flat holes + which the chauffeur called 'pans,' and the others, in the back of + the car, nearly had their spines come through the tops of their + heads. Strange what a difference there is, sitting in the driver's + seat! The bumping lasted all the way to Drumnadrochit, where we + turned away from a long, straight loch to mount up into lovely + strange country; then plunged down a steep hill to Invercannich--a + charming place ringed round with lovely, mysterious-looking + mountain-peaks which seem to say 'If we chose, we could tell you + the secret of Glen Affric, which we are hiding.' + + Isn't that an alluring name--Glen Affric? A little while ago I + should have wanted immensely to see it; but now whenever any one + proposes walking through a glen I always argue that it would be + better not. + + Last night we stopped at Strathpeffer, a gay and beautiful little + cure-town, which is like a walled flower-garden set down in the + midst of wild and stern Caledonia. The mountains are the walls; and + heather flows round them and beats against them like a purple + ocean. It is so foreign looking that it reminded Basil of Baden + Baden. Now we are going on into Ross-shire, which Basil describes + as a country of moorlands and great spaces where red deer live. But + already we have seen deer walking quite calmly out of the forests + on to our road, where they stop to gaze quizzically, without the + least fear, at the car. It is almost as if they took it for a + brother-animal. To-night we shall be at Loch Maree, and of course + you won't get this in time to telegraph there. But perhaps you + might wire to Ballachulish, where we shall be to-morrow. Do, + dearest, and tell me to come back to you. In spite of all the + loveliness, I can't stand this much longer, for I cannot make Basil + stop without being really _rude_ to him. You needn't keep me more + than a day if it's inconvenient. I'll go anywhere afterward--except + to Grandma's. Or even there, if she'll have me back!--Your loving + and anxious BARRIE. + + +TELEGRAM TO BARRIE FROM MRS. BALLANTREE MACDONALD + + If you want to please me and be very happy yourself say 'Yes' to + B. N. Splendid thing for you. Could wish nothing better for your + future. Do relieve my mind by writing that you have decided. Yours + lovingly and hopefully, + + BARBARA. + + +LETTER FROM BARRIE TO HER MOTHER + + DEAREST: Your telegram gave me the most dreadful surprise + when I arrived here at Ballachulish, and everything else seemed + against me too, for there was a wire from Mr. Bennett's sister + asking Mr. and Mrs. Vanneck to make their visit to her as soon as + possible, at that shooting lodge you told us about. They wanted to + go, and I was the only thing that prevented them. If I had an + _enemy_ trying to push me into a corner this would have seemed like + his (or her) work--just as if it had been planned on purpose. But, + of course, that idea is nonsense. Basil said, 'Now, if you could + only care a little, and make up your mind to wait for the love, we + could be married at once, because I believe it's still easy to do + these things quickly in Scotland.' But I told him _I_ didn't feel + as if I could, even to please Barbara, though I liked him very + much. And I began to think that, after all, I should have to go + back to Carlisle and beg Grandma to take me in, when who should + come teuf-teufing up to the hotel but Mr. Somerled in the darling + Gray Dragon. I could have cried with joy. It was like a miracle, + because, though I thought he might come along some time, I wasn't + expecting him then, any more than you would expect manna to fall in + 1912 just because you happened to be hungry and lost. + + You will be surprised perhaps at my feeling that I was saved from + Basil and Grandma simply because Mr. Somerled happened to turn up + at our hotel in his motor-car. But I haven't told you all yet. He + wasn't alone. He had collected Duncan MacDonald and Miss MacDonald, + and he'd come to Ballachulish looking for us. I must confess to you + now that I wrote to him twice or three times, which was only + polite, as he'd been so kind about rescuing me before. And you + hadn't forbidden me to write. One of the things I told him in a + letter was about the visit to Mrs. Payne the Vannecks might be + making: and it occurred to him that some such complication as this + might arise. He thought if Mr. and Mrs. Vanneck wanted to go to the + Round House, it would be very nice for me to join my cousins (of + course the MacDonalds are my cousins) until you are ready for me to + come back to you. Or else I could go and stay at Dunelin Castle at + Dhrum, for they are willing to visit him there if I do. It has been + let to him for years, you know. As the MacDonalds are poor he was + afraid, if he didn't take the castle, they might let or even sell + it to some vulgar rich person who would spoil the island he loves. + Now he may buy it himself: for Duncan MacDonald has no son, and the + daughter is so plain and old that she can't possibly marry. Won't + it be good to have the castle still belonging to a MacDonald? And + it is so romantic that it should be Ian Somerled MacDonald, whom + Duncan used to despise. But perhaps you've never heard that story? + + Now, both the father and daughter are sweet to 'their dear + cousin,' and very kind to me--to please him, of course. Next to + being with you, I'd rather go to Dhrum than do anything else in the + world. Perhaps it will seem to you just the right thing, because I + know how difficult it is to plan what to do with me for the rest of + my life, unless I marry Basil. And maybe you wouldn't so much mind + my not marrying him, if I had a proper place to stay for ever so + many weeks, while you looked round? + + Mr. and Mrs. Vanneck haven't gone yet, but they will be starting + to-morrow morning for Dundee, and from there they will go to the + Round House. I am sorry to say I shan't miss them, as I did Mrs. + James. Cousin Duncan and Cousin Margaret (they have told me to call + them 'Cousin') don't seem Scottish at all, and so they are rather + disappointing. They live in London and don't care for Dhrum, but + they appear not to dislike the idea of visiting Mr. Somerled there. + I believe they have often in old times visited the people to whom + they let Dunelin Castle, but only when there was a very good _chef_ + and a gay house-party. Cousin Margaret has a large, high nose, and + thin hair and a thin face and body. All her personality is thin and + cold, as if she couldn't care much about anything. But she does + care about women getting votes, and insists on talking politics in + the midst of lovely scenery. She looks so like her father, it is + quite funny, and their voices are exactly alike, slow and correct + and exaggeratedly English; and Scottish history bores them. They + are proud of the ancestor who ratted from Prince Charlie and fought + with Butcher Cumberland, so we have nothing in common. But any port + in a storm! + + I suppose I mustn't go away in the Gray Dragon till I hear from + you? Yet surely you will say 'Yes,' as it will save you trouble, + without my being obliged to marry Basil. I am sorry for him, but he + will soon get over it, for he loves his writing better than + anything else in the world, and presently he will go back to it and + forget me. I think he likes me because I would make a new kind of + heroine for one of his novels, and I'm quite willing he should have + me for that. + + I suppose if I go with Mr. Somerled Mrs. West will join Basil in a + few days, and they will continue their tour together as if nothing + had happened to interrupt it. Of course I haven't told Mr. Somerled + about Basil proposing, so when he suggested my going for a short + run with the Gray Dragon in memory of old times, he invited Basil + too. But that was before the Vannecks had looked out trains, and + decided that they couldn't get off till to-morrow. There wouldn't + be comfortable room for such a crowd even in the Gray Dragon. + Anyhow, Basil refused, saying he had writing to do--and I went with + Mr. Somerled and the cousins to the Pass of Glencoe--you know, + don't you, 'The Glen o' Weeping'? + + It is only an afternoon excursion from Ballachulish, so I was sure + you wouldn't object to my deciding for myself. As for Ballachulish, + it is one of the most charming little places I've seen yet in + Scotland, although coming here as we did from Loch Maree it would + need to be beautiful indeed, not to be what you call in the theatre + an 'anticlimax.' Loch Maree lies all secret and hidden among deer + forests. Along the narrow, twisting road as you go, you hear the + rushing sound of many rivers. Nobody had ever even dreamed of + motor-cars when that road was made, so you have to travel slowly + and manoeuvre whenever you meet anything if you don't want to be + killed. Even as it was, we got mixed up with a big automobile + loaded with fish-baskets. Our flywheel was on the ground, running + helplessly round and round, screaming horribly, while both + chauffeurs abused each other. Such a funny accident, and we had + another, going up a very steep hill. We'd so little petrol that it + ran back, as your blood does if you hold up your hand, and the + motor would do nothing but groan till we found out what was the + matter. Altogether it was quite an adventure going on such a road + with such a weak, elderly car like Blunderbore: but it was worth it + all, for Loch Maree is the beautiful birthplace of baby rainbows. + As we came near, travelling a mere white seam in a carpet of purple + heather stitched together with silver streams, I saw any quantity + of unfinished rainbows, just waiting to be matched on to each other + like bits of a puzzle. They hovered over rivulets, dancing in the + sunlight; or stained with colour the rocks thickly silvered with a + brocade of lichen, or else hid suddenly in the heather which, + mingling with pale green bracken, made a straggling pattern of + amethyst and jade for miles along the way. Oh, it was all lovely; + and we stayed a night there, at an ideal inn where fishermen engage + their rooms years beforehand. A dear old waiter in the Loch Maree + hotel advised me in the kindest way never, never to speak of fresh + herring as fish, in Scotland. I wonder why? He said, would I have + fresh herrings or eggs? I said I'd have the fish. He said there was + _no fish_, but would I try the herring? That was the way the + subject came up. + + We had two Highland ferries to cross, getting to Ballachulish. + Strome Ferry, which was difficult and almost dangerous because + there was a great storm of wind just then, and Dornie Ferry. I + liked those experiences better than almost anything we have done + with Blunderbore. The little ferries were so much more exciting + than a huge steam ferryboat, like that on the Tay. And in the wild, + lost country passing Clunie Inn, it poured with rain and wind, the + gale lashing us, rocking the car like a cradle. The spattering mud + made us look like hideous freckled people; and so the MacDonalds + saw me first. I hope Mr. Somerled explained I wasn't like that + really. We had so much arguing about Mrs. Payne's telegram and what + the Vannecks should do, that we had no time to wash, and I didn't + seem to care if I was never clean again. But the minute the Gray + Dragon appeared I cared _fearfully_. I took great pains with my + appearance before I started out with my new cousins, for Glencoe, + and I felt so happy that it seemed the place ought to call itself + the Glen o' Smiling instead of the Glen o' Weeping. + + Of course, however, I lost that frivolous feeling when we were + there, even though it was a joy to be back with the Gray Dragon; + for the Pass of Glencoe is like the Valley of Death. It is a sad + mouth wide open, roaring to the sky for vengeance, biting at the + clouds with black, jagged teeth; a great mouth in a dead face wet + with the tears of the weeping that can never be dried. It rained + while we were there, and though rain doesn't matter to the Gray + Dragon, it made the Pass more wild and grim if possible, filling it + with gray, drifting ghosts: ghosts of the murdered clansmen; ghosts + disappearing into dark, open doorways of rock castles, or falling + on the green floor of the glen, to weep on the dim, faded purple of + the sparse heather. The river into which the weeping cataracts shed + their tears was black at first; but suddenly, though the rain did + not stop, the sun tore a hole through a cloud, and shot a huge + rainbow into the rushing water. It split into a thousand fragments, + still gleaming under the clear brown flood: and I thought it was as + if the MacDonald women, in trying to escape from the massacre, had + dropped their poor treasures--their cairngorms and garnets and + amethysts--and there the jewels had lain ever since under the + water, because no one dared fish them out. But also I thought the + key of the rainbow itself might be lying there; and that made me + happy again in spite of the sadness of the place: for Mr. Somerled + and I used to talk when we first knew each other about finding the + key of the rainbow together: and I saw by the way he looked that he + hadn't forgotten. It is a compliment when a man like that remembers + anything a girl says, don't you think? + + Now, dear Barbara, I must send off this letter at once, though I + am going to telegraph at the same time, to ask if I may accept Mr. + Somerled's invitation. I tell you frankly I don't know how I shall + _bear_ it if you say no. But you won't. You are too kind and sweet, + and you do want me to be happy and find the key of the rainbow, + don't you? + + Your BARRIE, + Who can hardly wait. + + + + +II + + +When Mrs. Ballantree MacDonald received the telegram, which reached her +the day before Barrie's letter, she showed it at once to Aline West. It +read: + + "Please forgive me for not saying 'Yes' as you wish to B. N. But I + need give no more trouble for a long time, though. Mr. and Mrs. + Vanneck leaving to-morrow. Mr. Somerled has arrived here with my + cousins the MacDonalds from London and I am invited to make visit + Dunelin Castle at Dhrum. Do please let me go, unless you can have + me. They will bring me back first to see you unless that + inconvenient. Have just posted you long letter, but hope you will + wire answer to this. + + "BARRIE." + +"How simply fatal!" Barbara remarked, so calmly that Aline could have +boxed her ears. But, after all, it was she who cared, not Mrs. Bal. So +long as Barrie was reasonably safe and reasonably happy, and entirely +out of her way (even temporarily out of her way), Barbara did not much +mind about anything else. She had wanted to punish Somerled a little for +his indifference, past and present, to her (almost) irresistible self: +but she _had_ punished him, and it had been great fun, and she was tired +of bothering. Her sense of humour, a saving grace of hers, was tickled +by his persistence, and this unexpected coup at Ballachulish with the +MacDonalds. She could not help chuckling when she thought how Aline (it +had been mostly Aline) had maneuvered to throw that poor pretty child +into Basil's arms; and how, just as she seemed on the point of +succeeding, down swooped Somerled like a golden eagle of the mountains +to snap the prey out of his rival's mouth. Barbara would have preferred +that her daughter should marry Basil, since she must marry somebody to +be got rid of, being so _dreadfully_ in the way, poor pet! But luckily +Morgan Bennett had at last said what Barbara wanted him to say. He had +meant all along, no doubt, to say it--unless he had wavered from his +true allegiance a little on that perilous evening when he first saw +Barrie at the theatre. Barbara was safely engaged to him now; and though +she had had to tell him that "dear little sister Barrie" would probably +marry Basil Norman, she had only said "probably." She couldn't answer +for the creature--one never could for anybody. + +"How _like_ Somerled!" she gurgled, as Aline sat speechless, with the +telegram in her hand. "Now we know where he's been. He went to London +and collected the MacDonald family, when all else had failed. He must be +making it well worth their while, for they hate their native wilds. But +then--London in _August_! I suppose they welcomed any change. My poor +dear, I _am_ sorry if you're fond of him, but this does look as if +Somerled were tremendously in earnest. And if he is, I don't think you +and I are capable of coping with him. We must let things shape +themselves, I'm afraid." + +Aline's eyes, well again now, sent out a flash such as Basil knew. +"You're not going to fail me, are you?" she exclaimed. Her impulse was +to add shrilly, "Now that you've made your own market, and don't care a +rap what happens to any one else!" As she was Mrs. Bal's guest still, +and had been royally entertained, she sacrificed the momentary +satisfaction. Besides, this was the last moment in which it would be +safe to offend Mrs. Bal. + +"Fail you? Of course not," said Barbara. "But what more can I do? I've +written and wired Barrie. We both arranged, first for the Vannecks to +stay longer, and then for them to go suddenly--or at least to say they +were going. We've done so _many_ things, I'm quite confused. And I +should have _loved_ Barrie to fall in love with your brother, who's +perfectly charming and so _sensible_ about everything. But you see, I +can't force the girl. And Somerled's on the spot. What do you _want_ me +to do that I haven't done?" + +"I don't want you to do anything," Aline answered, struggling to keep +her head, "except to stand by me--and Basil. I do care for Ian. I've +confessed everything to you, and your not being certain about Mr. +Bennett made you so sweet and sympathetic, it was really a comfort. But +I've got my brother as well as myself to fight for. One never can be +sure what he'll do for himself, he's so modest, and always lets other +men get ahead. If you'll stick to us, I'll start off by the first train. +I fancy I'll have to go to Oban or somewhere, and hire a motor. Basil +has written about ferries there are to cross. It will be terrible, +alone. But if you'll stick to me----" + +"Stick to you?" repeated Barbara, hoping that Aline did not mean to put +her to too much trouble. She was a little--just a little--tired of dear +Aline. It had been useful and pleasant to have her, during this time of +uncertainty concerning Morgan Bennett: a nice woman to go about with; +pretty, but not too pretty; young, yet not too young; celebrated, yet +not as celebrated or popular as herself; but now it was all settled +about Morgan; and Aline had been a tiny bit plaintive, which was boring. +Also it was boring to see how stodgily George Vanneck was in love with +Mrs. West, without shadow of turning, although Barbara had tried her +hand, just for fun, at tempting him to turn. Even a worm would; but +George Vanneck wouldn't, which made him seem so slow! And Mrs. West was +a woman with only two smiles, and no real sense of humour. + +"All I mean is," Aline explained, uneasily feeling that she had lost her +power, "will you send me as your representative to Barrie? I _can't_ let +Ian think I have come because of him. But you are acting, and can't +possibly get away, so--as we're friends now, it would seem only natural +for me to go in your place." + +"What will you do when you get to Ballachulish?" + +"I'll give Barrie several reasons for marrying my brother, and if you'll +let me speak for you as well as for him and myself, I'm almost sure I +can--can save her from Somerled." + +At this Barbara frankly laughed, the way of putting it seemed so quaint; +and as for herself, she was feeling extraordinarily happy. She had got +what she wanted from life. She had got Morgan Bennett. And at the end of +the week he was going to America for a month, which was nice, because +while feeling perfectly safe about the future, she would be able to have +a little rest cure, without bothering to be agreeable to him. He was +fascinating, but strenuous. And if she need not have Barrie staying with +her after all, she could accept a charming invitation for Sunday and +part of Monday in the adorable Trossachs. It was the Duchess of Dalmelly +who had asked her, and she had thought she must refuse because Barrie +was due in Glasgow on Saturday evening. She had not felt like putting +off the child again, as Morgan would be gone; yet the Duchess did not +know that Barrie existed, and Barbara didn't want her to know. Why not +let things arrange themselves, and Barrie go to Dunelin Castle with the +MacDonalds? The Duchess was said to have wonderful house-parties, and +the Duke's place near Callander was famous. Barbara had never been +invited before and would like to go, especially as the fiancee of a +millionaire. It would give her new importance. + +"Oh, well, you must do as you like," she said easily to Aline, "but +don't fuss _too_ much. What is to be, will be, you know." + +"Yes, I know," Aline answered dryly. "And now I'll look up trains." + + + + +III + + +Aline induced Mrs. Bal to telegraph Barrie, "Await my messenger"; +nevertheless the girl was greatly surprised to see Mrs. West. She had +vaguely thought that Barbara might send one of the red-headed maids, to +take her back to Glasgow. + +Of course Basil must have known, but he had not told. Since Somerled and +the MacDonalds came, he had kept to himself with his writing as an +excuse. Now Barrie realized that certainly he had been expecting his +sister; yet he had not gone to meet her with his car. Perhaps there had +not been time: or perhaps he had an inspiration, and could not tear +himself from work, even for a few hours. + +When Aline arrived at Ballachulish, Barrie and Somerled and Margaret +MacDonald were walking together by the side of fair Loch Leven. Barrie +wore a white dress and no hat. The late afternoon sun was dazzling on +her hair, and as Somerled looked at her, across Miss MacDonald (it was +like Margaret to walk between them), there was an expression on his face +which made Aline feel capable of desperate things. A child like Barrie +to win him away from her so easily! There was something wrong about the +world. Aline yearned to right it, and live happily ever after. She had +travelled all night by train, and had been hours in a motor-car, never +once noticing the scenery; and instead of being enchanted with Connel +Ferry had regarded the crossing as a vexatious delay. Some of the most +beautiful scenes in Scotland had passed before her eyes between Oban and +Ballachulish; but if she thought of such things at all, she thought that +even a romantic writer couldn't be expected to notice irrelevant trifles +like nature, when bound up heart and soul in her own private romance. + +Somerled wondered how he could possibly have found her face interesting. +He did not know which of her two smiles had less genuine human nature in +it, the sad one or the gay one. And he wondered for the first time if +Basil didn't write the best part of their books. + +"I've come in a great hurry on an important mission from Mrs. Ballantree +MacDonald to Barrie," she explained to Somerled rather than to the girl, +as she got stiffly out of the motor-car. She was almost pathetically +anxious not to produce the impression that this frantic journey had been +undertaken on Ian's account. If she failed, she would put George Vanneck +out of his long misery by marrying him. She would even say that they had +been secretly engaged for some time. Anything rather than Somerled +should suspect the truth. But she was going to try hard not to fail. + +"I'll see Basil presently," she said when Barrie asked if they oughtn't +to let him know. It occurred to Somerled that Aline did not want to meet +her brother before strangers. "Let me just get rid of this hired +motor-car--and then I must fulfil my mission before doing anything else. +Basil and I will have plenty of time together. I've finished my visit to +Mrs. Bal. Dear child, may I have a little talk with you in your own +room, and give you your Barbara's message?" + +Barrie was eager, yet frightened. She could hardly wait to hear what was +her mother's verdict on the Plan; but it seemed ominous that she was to +learn it through Aline. Nothing good had come to her so far through Mrs. +West. + +Barrie's room was small, and looked over a dovecote. The doves were +mourning a good deal more than was reasonable considering that their +griefs must have happened generations ago. Their continuous cooing +rasped Aline's nerves. How would it be best to begin? She had planned it +out a dozen times in the train, and a dozen times more in the car: but a +few doves and a disturbance in an unseen family of chickens were enough +to put everything out of her head. Suddenly she began to cry. That was +not a part of her design; but no inspiration could have been more +useful. The pretty, serene mask of her smooth face wrinkled up +pitifully, and made her seem real and human. Barrie's heart warmed to +her for the first time. + +"Oh, Mrs. West, what is it?" she exclaimed. "Nothing has happened to +moth--to Barbara?" + +Nothing that happened to any one except herself could have drawn tears +from Aline West, but Barrie did not know that. + +"I am so--horribly unhappy!" wailed Aline, hiding her distorted face in +her hands. There was no time to fumble for a handkerchief. + +"Is there anything I can do?" Barrie asked. + +"There is--everything!" Aline choked. She began to realize from the +girl's agitated voice that the accident of her own tears had been +providential. "But you won't do it when you know." + +"I will, indeed--if I can," Barrie warmly protested. + +"You have taken Ian away from me," Aline sobbed. "He was mine till you +came. I worshipped him, and he loved me. He loves me still, but we +quarrelled--about you. I was jealous--I confess. You are so young. +I'm--thirty. He said he cared nothing for you in that way--that you were +only a child; but he'd promised you to take you to Edinburgh and be a +sort of guardian, and nothing would induce him to break his word. I was +foolish--I tried to make it a test with him. I said if he loved me he +would tell you he'd changed his mind, that he couldn't take you. But he +wouldn't be persuaded, and so we quarrelled. Everything has been wrong +between us since. He is so proud and hard! And my heart is breaking." + +"I am sorry--very sorry," Barrie answered in a queer, level voice, +without any expression in it. "Did you come here to tell me this?" + +"No, oh, no," Aline said quickly. "I came from your mother. I was to +tell you that she's going to marry Mr. Bennett, and that she hopes still +that you may make up your mind to accept my brother who loves you so +much, before Mr. Bennett comes back from America. He's going in a day or +two--for a few weeks. You know, it is so awkward for Barbara. If he +should find out that--little secret she's kept from him! He's rather a +strange man. He can be hard. She's afraid of him. She couldn't come to +you herself, and she dares not have you back because Mr. Bennett is +still there, and if he sees you--but you understand, don't you? I +offered to come. We are great friends, she and I. But--I wanted to come +for myself too. Ian is so terribly obstinate. He made up his mind that +you needed his help, and that he'd stand by you whatever happened. It is +his boast that he's never broken his word, nor failed any one. Even his +love for me wouldn't make him give up--and he won't give you up while he +thinks you are alone and needing a friend. See what he has done for you! +He has gone and fetched these MacDonalds. I knew something had happened +because his chauffeur was wired for, to meet him somewhere, but it was a +blow to hear from Barbara that he'd followed you. She showed me your +telegram. I almost lost hope then, that anything could ever come right +between Ian and me. But when she asked me to see you, I thought--it +seemed just possible, if I could make you understand----" + +"Please tell me," Barrie said, still in that strange, dry voice, unlike +hers, and very old sounding for a young girl, "please tell me exactly +what you thought I might do--when you'd made me understand?" + +"I thought you might feel that the only way to free Ian Somerled from +his supposed duty would be to marry some one else quickly. You know he +blames Barbara; but if you had a husband, you wouldn't need a guardian +any more. Then, if I asked him to forgive me--and I would ask him, for +I've no pride left!--he might come back. I believe he'd be glad to come +back, for we loved each other dearly before you parted us!" + +"That is true," said Barrie; "if I marry some one else he will +be--released. I didn't know what trouble I was making for him." + +"No, you didn't know, of course, for _he_ couldn't tell you," Aline +agreed. "But now you do know. Oh, the only way, if Ian is to be made +happy again in spite of himself, is for you to marry Basil. Think how +happy you will make him too! And Barbara. Every one will be happy, and +all through you." + +"I'll see Basil and talk to him," said Barrie. + +"You _will_? You little angel! But I must see him first and prepare him. +Are you going to do what we all want? Even Ian wants it at heart, though +he doesn't know it yet, for it would be such a relief for him to feel +you were all right, and he--could go back to--old times." + +"I'd marry Basil to-morrow, if I could," Barrie replied. + +"Perhaps you can," Aline said, radiant, drying her tears. + + * * * * * + +Basil persuaded himself that he would have been less than man if he +refused to accept his happiness, even though he could have wished it to +come to him spontaneously. But nothing, as Aline anxiously reminded him, +can be ideal in this world. And it wasn't as if it were certain that +Somerled would have married the girl if they had been let alone. + +"We shall never know now what he _would_ have done," she said, "and I +for one don't want to know. I want to know only what he will _do_. Even +if he has been a little--infatuated, why, you told me yourself that +hearts are often caught in the rebound. I shall try so hard." + +"But you are going away with us!" Basil said quickly. "You must." + +"Oh, I will. I wouldn't trust you alone--to keep Barrie. But afterward I +shall write him a letter. Such a letter! Of course, we've all three +quite decided now" (it was she, and Basil reluctantly, who had decided) +"merely to tell him that we're obliged to take Barrie back to her +mother; that Mrs. Bal would hear of nothing else. And it won't be a lie, +because as soon as you're married, you will take her to see Barbara. +Morgan Bennett will be gone, so Mrs. Bal won't mind--much. Have you +decided where the wedding is to be?" + +"Gretna Green," Basil answered with such prompt decision that Aline was +surprised. + +"Why Gretna Green? It's such a long way," she objected, impatient for +the afterward, which was to be her reward. "I thought one place was as +good as another in Scotland nowadays, and that----" + +"I've a special reason for wanting to be married to Barrie at Gretna +Green," said Basil, almost fiercely. "For one thing, she's told me that +it used to be a dream of hers. For another----" + +"For another?" + +"No matter. Only a fancy of mine--to rub out the recollection of +something I don't like. Of course, if Barrie objects--but I hope she +won't." + +Barrie did not object in words. Only her heart rebelled. But her one +great wish was to put her heart to sleep. And nothing else mattered. +Nothing else must matter now. + + + + +IV + +BARRIE WRITES AGAIN + + +This never was a story. I wrote things down, to please myself, just as +they happened. But now that the end of the heather moon has come, I must +write of its last days. I think by and by I shall send all this to Mrs. +James, in California, otherwise she will never understand how everything +came about; and besides, if it hadn't been for her the end would have +been very different. + +This part will have to be a sort of confession. When I began to write, I +used not to say much about my feelings, even when I was sure of them, +which was seldom; but I see now that I fell in love with my knight the +minute I saw him first. I must have been fascinated, or it would not +have occurred to me to choose him as the man to buy my brooch. I might +have spoken to some one else. By the time we started on our trip and got +as far as Gretna Green, I _worshipped_ him. That is why I was so happy. +I never troubled then about what the end would be. I just gave myself up +to being happy, and it seemed as if such happiness must last forever. I +used to wonder why I wasn't more impatient to get to Edinburgh and see +my mother--the one thing I started out to do. But it was because I'd +fallen in love with my knight, and he was already more important for me +than any one else in the world, more important even than Barbara. + +Soon I began to suspect what was happening; and in Edinburgh I was +quite, _quite_ sure. But I wasn't any longer perfectly happy. There were +clouds over the heather moon--that sweet, kind moon which I used to say +was the best of the year for falling in love. + +I stopped writing then, for if I had written it would have had to be all +about my feelings. The world was full of them. They were like gulls +wheeling round a lighthouse lamp; and my heart was the lamp. + +I thought, in Edinburgh, that my knight didn't care for me as I did for +him. He kept away, and let other men go with me everywhere. Now I +understand why, but then it made me miserable, for I knew he was the One +Man, and always would be. A girl who had once loved him could never look +at any one else. There were other things too that made me sad. Nobody +wanted me. People were always planning how to send me away: but the +heather moon shone in spite of all, and each evening when she came up, +out of the mysterious places where she hides, she seemed to say: +"Courage. Have faith in me. Don't lose hope, and I'll show you yet where +to find the rainbow key." So I wouldn't lose hope; and I felt rewarded +when my knight asked me to write to him, and promised that by and by I +should see him again. + +Then a letter came, and though I couldn't think why he had gone back to +Carlisle to call on Grandma, I felt it must be for a reason connected +with me; and that was cheering--just to know that I was in his mind. +About London--when he went there afterward--I wasn't so sure. But it was +the happiest day in my life when he suddenly appeared at Ballachulish. +He came just in time, it seemed, to save me as he had saved me before. I +could hardly keep from showing how I adored him. As he had come such a +long way and had done so much for my sake, I thought that perhaps after +all he did care, though it seemed too wonderful to be true. Now and +then, while we were waiting to hear what Barbara would say about the +invitation to Dhrum, there was a look in his eyes that made me feel the +heather moon had been my true friend. He was changed, too, not hard and +cynical as he used to be, but kind and gentle to every one, as if he had +begun to see what a beautiful place the world can be. + +This made it worse when Mrs. West came, and explained that all he had +done for me was for duty, not for love: that he loved her, and I had +spoiled everything for them both. Mrs. West said that he would stick to +his duty at all costs, until I was actually married, so I was glad then, +instead of sorry as I had been before, that Basil wanted me. I saw that +she was right, and the sooner it was over the better. But I didn't dare +think about the future. I just went on blindly, and did what Basil and +Mrs. West told me to do. Nothing seemed to matter except to show my +knight that after all my selfishness and thoughtlessness and conceit I +had freed him. + +I would rather have been married anywhere than at Gretna Green, but +Basil had set his heart on that place. + +We told my knight that Barbara was making me go away at once with Mrs. +West and Basil; or rather, I let them explain. I couldn't. I was afraid +I should break down, and he would see how wretched I was. It was all I +could do to say "good-bye." It nearly killed me to see the hurt, +surprised look on his face. Even now I can hardly write of that. + +Basil had found out about the marriage laws. We had been in Scotland for +three weeks, and all we had to do, if we wanted to be married in a +hurry, was to declare before two witnesses who knew us both, that we +took each other as husband and wife. We could have done it just as well +at Ballachulish if Basil hadn't been determined it should be Gretna +Green; but afterward I thought that he, or perhaps Mrs. West, had felt +it would be better to have the wedding far away from my knight, who +called himself my guardian, and might consider it his duty to object. + +Mrs. West was to be one of the witnesses, and, as Barbara couldn't leave +the man she was engaged to, the very last day before he sailed, Basil +thought we had better have Salomon the chauffeur for the second witness. +Mr. George Vanneck might have come on from Glasgow, but I heard Mrs. +West say to Basil, when he suggested telegraphing, "I don't want to see +him just now, and especially at the time of a wedding. He might be +unreasonable." + +As we needed Salomon, we went all the way in the car, instead of taking +the train from Oban, which would have saved us a few hours. + +When we got to Gretna Green it was evening, but the daylight lingered +still. In the south it would already have been gone. There was a pale +dusk mingling with the moonshine, and I couldn't help remembering the +mysterious light in Sweetheart Abbey, on my first night of Scotland and +the heather moon. I remembered my dream, too, the dream of the locked +ebony and silver box, which could be opened only by the key of the +rainbow. It nearly broke my heart to think of these things, and I wished +it _would_ break, so that I might die instead of marrying Basil: for if +I were dead I should be safely out of everybody's way, just the same as +being married. + +Basil asked me where it was that we had gone through the ceremony for +the photographs, but before I had time to answer, the car brought us to +the house, and he recognized it from the biograph pictures. He told +Salomon to stop, and leaving Mrs. West and me in the car, he got out to +talk with the man of the house. Up till that moment I had been dully +wishing it were all over, and had been actually in a hurry; but suddenly +I felt as if I couldn't bear being married, and should have to run away. +I longed and almost prayed for something--anything--to happen which +would put off the wedding until another day. If an earthquake had +wrecked the house I should have been delighted. But nothing did happen. +Mrs. West talked cheeringly to me while Basil was gone, saying how happy +I should be all the rest of my life, and what a lovely honeymoon her +brother was planning. "I shall go away and leave you to your two +selves," she said; and though I'm afraid I almost hated her, still I +longed to cry out, "Oh, _don't_ go away!" + +In a few minutes Basil came back, looking excited and rather happy, yet +there was that curiously pitiful, apologetic expression in his eyes +which had been in them always lately, as if he were ashamed and sorry +about something. + +"It's all right," he explained. "The man tells me we can be married +here, and it's not too late. He says a good many people come even +nowadays, simply for the romance of having their wedding at Gretna +Green." Then Basil gave his hand to me, to help me down from the car. I +felt very weak, and almost sick. How different from the day when my +knight and I had dashed up to this door in the old-fashioned chaise, and +played the game of being married at the anvil! How my heart beat as he +held me for an instant in his arms! I ought to have known then that I +was in love with him. Now, it was as if my heart were dying, for it felt +cold and heavy as lead, as I told myself that after this it would be +wrong to call Mr. Somerled "my knight," or even to think of him at all, +since to think was to love. + +Mrs. West got down from the car too, and took off her veil. Basil +explained to Salomon what it would be necessary for him to do, and how +he must leave his motor for a few minutes. + +My knees trembled so that I could scarcely walk. Basil noticed it, and +insisted on my taking his arm. "It's because she has been sitting still +in the car so long," Mrs. West said to him hastily. "I am often like +that after a day's motoring." + +"You're awfully pale," said Basil, staring at me anxiously. "You won't +faint or anything, will you?" + +"Oh, no," I said. "I am quite well." I tried to speak naturally, but my +voice sounded as if it were some one else's, miles away. And for a +minute, after entering the little room that looked so familiar, I was +afraid that I might cry or be somehow stupid. + +"Now," said Basil, "all we have to do is to state before these witnesses +that we take one another in marriage. Isn't that it?" he asked, turning +to the old man, who in the costume brought by the photographers, had +performed the ceremony over me and my knight. + +"Yes, sir, that is all there is to it," he replied; but as he spoke he +was peering curiously at me. "That's all there is to what we call an +irregular marriage in Scotland, such as this is going to be. When I say +'irregular,' you mustn't think anything wrong. It's as legal as the kind +with banns. If you want to register your marriage, sir, you must make +application to the sheriff of the county; but it's just as binding and +legal without." + +"That is what I understood," said Basil. "But, of course, I shall have +it registered. Are you ready, Barrie?" + +"Excuse me the liberty, sir," broke in the old man, "but I think this +will be the young leddy who was done for the Cinema? I know her by her +hair. I'm not so sure, though, that I recognize you, sir, or----" + +"No, no, it wasn't I. That was her guardian," Basil returned hurriedly. +"Now, Barrie, if you're ready----" + +"Yes, I'm ready----" I began. I found that I could speak only in a +whisper. Or perhaps it was the whirr of a passing motor outside which +drowned my voice. + +"Well then, come, dearest child, and stand here by me. Give me your +hand----Is anything the matter?" + +I forgot to answer, the sound of that car out there was so like the +well-remembered purr of the Gray Dragon. But I seemed always to be +hearing a kind of undertone of Dragon music. Often I had turned my head +as we came from Oban, to see if some car gaining on us from behind were +the Gray Dragon. It never was; and this would not be. But it was not +passing after all. It was stopping near the house--as near as +Blunderbore would allow. + +"Is anything the matter?" I heard the words more clearly the second time +he spoke. + +"No," I said. "There is nothing----" + +He took my hand, which was hanging by my side, for I had forgotten to +give it when he asked. His felt very hot to the touch, so mine must have +been cold. He pressed it warmly, and his eyes called to mine. There was +no light in the room, for it was not needed yet, and I could see that +his face was white. I wished above all things to pull my hand away from +him. + +"I, Basil, take thee, Barribel----" he began formally. + +"I forbid this marriage. It mustn't go on," said a voice at the door. It +sounded like the voice of my knight: but everything was so dream-like +and unreal that I thought the voice was part of the unreality. It could +not be his. + +But it was. He came forward, covered with dust from head to foot, as if +he had been driving far and fast. + +"Barribel MacDonald is already my wife," he said. + +He took my hand away from Basil, who was so astounded that for an +instant he did not resist. But in another second a flood of rage seemed +to sweep over him, giving him strength and presence of mind. + +"That's not true, and you know it!" he exclaimed, while Mrs. West stood +still as a statue, looking suddenly years older than before. "Barrie, +come to me." + +But my knight would not let me go. He grasped my hand so tightly that it +hurt. I felt as if my fingers would break in his, and for just that +moment I was deliriously happy, until I remembered, with a sharp pain +like an icicle in my heart, that he loved Mrs. West. + +"It _is_ true," he said. "We went through the marriage ceremony here, +three weeks ago, she and I, as this man will tell you. I am a Scot, and +I claim her as my wife by the law of Scotland, unless she will swear to +me now, before God, that she loves you and wants you for her husband. If +she can swear that, I will take steps to release her. What do you say, +Barrie?" + +"I--I _like_ Basil very much," I stammered. "I was willing--I am +willing--to marry him." + +"I didn't ask if you liked, but if you loved, him. Do you?" + +"I--I want to marry him," I exclaimed, strength flowing into me as I +thought of Mrs. West. "Don't be afraid, Mr. Somerled. I've troubled you +enough. Even if we really are married, I would rather die than hold you. +I know everything--how it was about me you quarrelled with _her_. But +I've spoiled only a few weeks of your life. I won't spoil the rest. It +is she who ought to be your wife, not I." + +"Who has said that to you?" he asked. + +"It is her own idea!" Mrs. West cried. + +"Then it is a very foolish idea," said he. "Mrs. West and I never had +it. If you love Basil Norman, Barrie, I won't stand in your way. But if +you don't love him, by heaven he shan't take you from me." + +"There's no question of taking her from you. She doesn't belong to you," +Basil flung back at him. "For a marriage to be legal one of the persons +concerned must have lived in Scotland for twenty-one days----" + +"I lived in Scotland seventeen years." + +"But not directly before that foolish business here----" + +"I have never been without a holding in Scotland. Dunelin Castle has +been mine by lease for years. Now it's mine by right of ownership. +Whether our marriage was legal or not will have to be settled by +Scottish Law before the girl can marry any one else, and I shall fight +in the courts for my rights if you dispute them." + +"Are you going to throw me over, Barrie?" Basil asked. + +"You shall not put it to her like that!" said my knight. "Barrie, you +haven't answered my question. Do you love him?" + +"No," I faltered. I could not lie. + +"Do you love me?" + +"You're cruel to ask me that, when you----" + +"When you ought to have seen long ago, that I was at your feet, that I +was mad for you, that you were my one thought. I tried not to be a brute +as well as a fool, so I stood aside and gave all the other men who were +younger, and perhaps worthier, their chance. If you had loved anybody +else I'd have let you alone. But I don't think one of those men made +good. Do you love me, Barrie? Answer me now, as if we were alone +together?" + +"Yes," I whispered. + +He caught me in his arms, and kissed me on the mouth, holding me close +against his breast. + +"Then," he said, "I am your husband. Are you my wife? I ask you before +these witnesses, who know us both." + +"I am your wife," I repeated after him. + +"This time," he exclaimed, "we are safely married, and not all the world +can part us now." + +Basil and Aline went away before we did. Aline said she was going to +Glasgow, to tell Barbara how I had treated them, and to see the man she +was engaged to marry: that it was all a mistake, if not a deliberate +falsehood on my part, about her thinking Ian cared for her. Basil went +with her, not saying anything at all, except: + +"Good-bye, Barrie. Some day perhaps you'll understand and forgive me. I +always had a presentiment that I shouldn't be able to bring it off at +the last; that Somerled would cut in and snatch you away from me." + +Ian suggested taking me to Carlisle, only eight miles away, to stay with +Grandma until we could have a more conventional wedding. But when I +said, "_Aren't_ we really and truly married, then?" in a frightened +voice, he said, "Of course we are, my darling child--married as fast as +if by book and bell. Nothing can part us. I shall never let you go out +of my sight for five minutes after this--unless you want to go." + +"But I don't," I said. And a sudden thought came to me. I told him I +wished he would take me to Sweetheart Abbey. If it had been appropriate +to spend the first night of the heather moon there, as Mrs. James had +said, it would be still more appropriate to spend the first night of the +honeymoon. + +We bade the old man of the house good-bye and he shook hands with us +both. Ian gave him something which made him exclaim, "I thank you +kindly, indeed, sir! And I must say, if you'll excuse the liberty, I +never wanted the other gentleman to get her, sir. I felt in my bones +there was something wrong, so I kept on asking questions to delay the +thing. If I hadn't done that, it would all have been fixed up before you +came along." + +"If it had been, I should have taken her away from him, anyhow," said +Ian, "because she was my wife, and she couldn't have been his." + +"Not _exactly_ your wife, sir," the old man tried to explain, taking him +literally. "But----" + +"If not in law she was in heart, and she was meant for me from the +beginning of time," said Ian. + +Then we went out to the dear Gray Dragon, which was white with dust, and +so was dear Vedder. + +"It's all right," Ian said to the stolid-looking fellow; and Vedder +answered, "Hurrah to heaven, sir!" which was a very queer expression, +but I liked it, and loved him for it. Basil used to say that chauffeurs +are a strange new race of men, but I think they are splendid. I hoped +that Ian would double Vedder's wages, and afterward he did. + +We drove fast to Sweetheart Abbey, with the heather moon in the east, a +sweet, pale, thin-cheeked moon, past her prime of youth, but more +beautiful and kind than ever. As we flew along the empty road, the Gray +Dragon purring with joy in our joy, rabbits ran ahead of us, like tiny +messengers impatient to tell the good news of what had happened. Our +big, white headlight turned them into bouncing, gray balls, and there +were dozens of them, tearing along just in front of us sometimes, but we +would not have killed or hurt one for its weight in gold. + +Ian took for us at the inn the very rooms he had taken before for Mrs. +James and me; and in his arms, with no lamplight but the heather moon +smiling through the window at us, I told him about my dream of his +bringing me the locked ebony and silver box, which could be opened only +with the rainbow key. + +"It was a true dream, my darling," he said. "My heart was locked up in a +box for many years, and nobody but you could have opened it, for you are +_you_, and you have the key of the rainbow in your little hands. Never +will the box be locked again. Now my heart doesn't need, doesn't want a +box, because it is forever in your keeping." + +There, at Sweetheart Abbey, in the little inn where I first began to ask +myself if Ian were not the One Man beside whom all others were shadows, +we told each other things and explained things that had seemed +mysterious. + +I told him how I had worshipped him from the beginning, and couldn't +help going on to care more and more, though I feared that he liked Mrs. +West, and thought of me only as a child. "But I wasn't a child," I said. +"From the first minute I loved you I was a woman." + +"You must have been a baby, or you would never have thought for a second +that I or any man could remember Mrs. West's existence when you were +there," he said scornfully. But as he was holding me very tightly in his +arms, the scorn did not hurt. "How you could believe her, when she told +you that what I did for you was from duty, I can't conceive. If you were +the heroine of one of Basil's novels there might be some excuse for you. +Heroines of stories always believe any wild thing the villain or +villainess chooses to tell them, but a real girl, with brains and eyes +and at least some common sense----" + +"Do you think when you're in love your common sense can stay on top?" I +asked. "It seemed too good to be true that you could love me, and she +was far more fascinating than I! And you knew and liked her first, and +had asked her to take a long motor trip with you: and it _was_ true that +you quarrelled about me. Looking back it all seemed so natural, +especially remembering how you kept away from me and schemed--actually +_schemed_--to have me go about with other men, why shouldn't I believe a +woman _much_ older than I, when she _cried_ as she told me the story? +Why, at this very place, after you'd been so heavenly to me in the +Abbey, you were horrid next day, almost cross: and so you were often. +You hurt my feelings a dozen times a day, and every other man I saw was +kinder." + +"Because they weren't fighting a great fight with themselves, as I was," +he said, holding me a little more closely, if possible. "They, the +selfish chaps, were letting themselves go. I was saying to myself, +'Perhaps I'm too old and hard for her. I'm the first man she's ever +known. I must give her a chance to see and talk with others. For her own +sake, I mustn't yield to temptation and try to snatch her away from the +rest. Norman must have his chance. Douglas must have his chance. The +American boys must have theirs----' and by Jove, you seemed to like +giving it to them! You nearly drove me out of my mind." + +"I thought you were being bored with me." + +"You darling, adorable little idiot, as if a man could be bored with +you!" + +"I didn't know." + +"Well, you know now. I was nearly mad in Edinburgh, but I stuck to my +principles. I wanted to be sure one way or the other. But Norman had no +gratitude. He used your mother to help him against me----" + +"That was Mrs. West, I think, who used her." + +"Don't defend the fellow. It was both of them. They--and James sending +for his wife--drove me into a corner. But I wasn't going to be swept off +the board without a struggle. I meant from the beginning to fight for +you, if I saw a gleam of interest in your eyes for me, and sometimes I +thought I did see it. But thanks to Mrs. Bal MacDonald, they'd got you +in their clutches, those two. It suddenly occurred to me when I lost +Mrs. James, to go and get your grandmother--bring her by force if she +wouldn't come. I knew she had a sneaking kindness for me, as a MacDonald +man. There was a queer bond of sympathy between us, which we'd both felt +when we met. All our worst faults are alike. I dashed off to +Carlisle--quickest way, by train, and threw myself on the old lady's +mercy--told her everything. She was a trump, though perhaps her desire +to help was as much a wish to thwart her daughter-in-law as anything +else. She was too rheumatic to come with me in the car. I suppose it was +a wild scheme! But she herself suggested my going to London to invite +the MacDonalds. She thought, if I offered inducements--and she was +right. It was an inspiration on her part." + +"But," I broke in, "isn't it glorious not to have chaperons at all?" + +He didn't answer in words. Yet he made me understand in a far more +emphatic and satisfactory way, that he agreed. + +"You can imagine what I felt when you coolly went off from Ballachulish +with Norman and his sister," Ian went on. "Then I _did_ think it was all +up--that I had been a fool for my hopes and my pains, till dear old +Vedder hummed and hawed and apologized for taking a liberty, and +mentioned that Salomon had boasted he was going to get his 'party' to +Gretna Green in the shortest time on record. 'It's a plot!' I said to +myself, as Mrs. James had warned me. And five minutes later Vedder and I +and the Gray Dragon were off at a pace--well, I'm afraid we exceeded the +legal limit most of the way; but the gods looked after us." + +"And so did the heather moon!" I added. + + * * * * * + +Now we are at Dhrum, our own dear purple island set in a sea of gold; +but first we went back to Carlisle and visited Grandma; and to please +her and Ian, I consented to be married all over again, in church, with a +special license and everything such as the conventional bride does, +though it seemed treacherous to that happy moment at Gretna Green, which +was like heaven after the valley of death. Grandma was wonderful to Ian, +and very nearly nice to me. Not an unkind word did she say of Barbara, +and she didn't even refer to my running away. + +"You have had the sense to choose a real man, and the good fortune to +win him. I'd hardly have thought it of you. A MacDonald too!" she +remarked. And I almost loved her. Mrs. Muir made us a wedding cake, +which she insisted on our taking away, in a large tin box: and when we +left Hillard House, Heppie's nose was pinker than I ever saw it, which +is saying a good deal. + +Aline West was married to Mr. George Vanneck the very day we started +from Carlisle for Dhrum. We saw an account of the wedding in the paper. +It was at Glasgow; and she was going to a lovely place called St. +Fillans for her honeymoon. Basil gave her away, and was to return +immediately after to Canada, "on business." + +It is like a dream to be living in the vast, turreted gray castle of our +ancestors, looking out over an endless sea, and to be the mistress of +such a house--I, little Barrie MacDonald, the princess rescued from a +glass retort. But it is a true dream. Ian says that he won me by a kind +of fraud, as the first Somerled won his Pictish princess; because we +weren't really married by that game we played with the photograph people +at Gretna Green. Only, he made up his mind even then, that if the wrong +man ever got a hold upon me, he would use the episode to frighten him +away. How thankful I am that it happened! If it hadn't, perhaps I should +have missed my happiness: but Ian says no, he would have snatched me +from Basil somehow, if not in one way, then in another. Poor Basil, I +can afford to remember him with forgiveness, and even a kind of +tenderness now! I think he always hated himself in his heart for doing +what he did. But tragedy came so near for a few hours that sometimes, if +Ian is separated from me for a moment, we have to rush to find each +other, and say "It's true--after all!" + +At Dunelin Castle there are all the things I used to wish for: MacDonald +tartan on the walls and floors of many rooms; and torn, faded MacDonald +banners hanging in the dimness high up on the stone walls of the great +dining-hall--where we never dine. Pipers pipe us away in the morning, +and the skirl of the pipes mingles with the crying of gulls and the boom +of the sea in a thrilling way. The old servants look as if they had +never been born and could never die. They are delightfully superstitious +and quaint, and not one of them would kill a spider. Neither would I, +for the matter of that! I suppose it's my MacDonald blood and my love of +Bruce. You ought to see the elaborate precautions that are taken to get +rid of a spider in Dunelin Castle without insulting or hurting its +feelings! + +Ian always wears the kilt; and if I hadn't loved him as much as I +possibly could before, I should have fallen in love with him all over +again the day I saw him in it first. He is painting my portrait in the +Gretna Green costume; and when we are tired, we take long walks +together, I in a short tweed, with my hair down my back, Ian in the +kilt. Our favourite tramp is to a mysterious, hidden lake, surrounded +with rugged black mountains like petrified guardian-dragons watching a +treasure. This wild, mountain walled lake is called the "Heart of +Dhrum," and Ian says it is no more wild or savage or dark with clouds +than _his_ heart used to be every day when he was giving other men their +chance with me. He says, too, that if the lady who used to be imprisoned +in a fearful dungeon under the dining-hall at Dunelin, and fed only with +salt beef, had been Aline West it would have served her right. He would +have given her no sympathy, but a great deal of salt and very little +beef. But of course he does not mean that. His heart overflows with +kindness for all humanity nowadays, and it never was hard really. He +finds the world a glorious place with very few faults; but he says it is +I who have taught him this lesson, and that I should be able to make a +skeleton-ghost, condemned to clank chains in an underground prison +through eternity, see his fate in a rose-coloured light. I love him to +say foolish things. And I love him when he says nothing at all, but only +looks at me. + +He has taught me to dance the Highland fling. I do it with my hair down, +while the pipers pipe; and Ian cries Hoo! and Ha! and claps his hands, +as we dance, like the true Highlander he is. He was splendid in the +Games Week; for he could do the great jumps and "put" the stones as well +as the best of the Skye men who came over to compete with the men of +Dhrum. And here at Dunelin, where we danced reels till morning, on the +night of the ball we gave, he danced everybody else down--except me. + + * * * * * + +This castle, which my fierce ancestors built nearly a thousand years +ago, is a fairy castle for me and for Ian. It is all our own now, to +have and to hold, because he has bought it, so it will belong to a +MacDonald while it and the world lasts--I pray. We shall go to live in +America, where I hope Barbara may let me see her sometimes; but we shall +have this fairy island of purple and gold to come back to always, the +hidden home of our hearts. + +I used to ask myself, when the heather moon vanished behind a mountain +or into the sea, in what secret place she lurked while she hid from the +world? Now I know that the purple island of Dhrum is her fastness, and +that because she loved us she brought us safely here, together. + +I wonder sometimes if Basil will ever write his romance of our +journeyings and adventures under the heather moon--months or years from +now, when he has forgotten to be sad, and is only pleasantly romantic, +as when I knew him first? Ian says he will never write it, because if he +did, he would have to be the villain; and no man ever yet made himself +the villain of his own book. Perhaps that is true. But I do not think +there ought to be a real villain in a story about a rainbow key and a +heather moon. + + +THE END + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Heather-Moon, by +C. N. Williamson and A. M. 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