“She is the sweetness of all the years that are gone, and of all that are to come.”
“And Sophy loves you as you love her? I hope she does that, my dear Andrew.”
“She will do. She will do! no doubt of it, Christina! She is shy now, and a bit frighted at the thought of marriage—she is such a gentle little thing—but I will make her love me; yes I will! I will make her love me as I love her. What for not?”
“To be sure. Love must give and take equal, to be satisfied. I know that myself. I am loving Jamie just as he loves me.”
“He is a brawly fine lad. Peddie was saying there wasn’t a better worker, nor a merrier one, in the whole fleet.”
“A good heart is always a merry one, Andrew.”
“I’m not doubting it.”
Thus they talked with kind mutual sympathy and confidence; and a certain sweet serenity and glad composure spread through the little room, and the very atmosphere was full of the peace and hope of innocent love. But some divine necessity of life ever joins joy and sorrow together; and even as the brother and sister sat speaking of their happiness, Christina heard a footstep that gave her heart a shock. Andrew was talking of Sophy, and he was not conscious of Jamie’s approach until the lad entered the house. His face was flushed, and there was an air of excitement about him which Andrew regarded with an instant displeasure and suspicion. He did not answer Jamie’s greeting, but said dourly:—
“You promised to take my place in the boat to-night, Jamie Logan; then what for are you here, at this hour? I see one thing, and that is, you cannot be trusted to.”
“I deserve a reproof, Andrew, for I have earned it,” answered Jamie; and there was an air of candid regret in his manner which struck Christina, but which was not obvious to Andrew as he added, “I’ll not lie to you, anent the matter.”