"Oh, I hope he has some good luck! He is such a fine fellow!"
"Luck! Wonderful luck! Undreamed of good luck. But that is the way godsends come—steal round a corner of your life, and stand at your door, and never sign or whisper before them."
"If I have to stay a few days, Uncle, is there not something I can do to earn my bread while I wait?"
"Plenty of writing you can do; only, you'll not write a line to your sister. If you do, she will come with her own answer, all smiles and tears and compliments, things I can't stand against, and won't try to."
"I will not write to Marion at all. I must write to my aunt. She will tell no one. I will swear it for her."
"As far as I know, your aunt is a prudent, douce woman; but crooked and straight are all women, uncertain, Donald, uncertain as the law."
"Not so with aunt. Jessy Caird is straight all through and at all times."
"I'll take your word for her. It is only for an odd occasion; one promise at a time is as far as I durst trust myself with any woman."
So Mrs. Caird was not astonished when, one morning in the early part of the following week, Lord Cramer entered the Minister's parlor while the family were at breakfast. He held Marion's hand while he offered his other hand to Dr. Macrae; and Dr. Macrae took it, though Mrs. Caird noticed that he left the table while doing so, saying he had finished his breakfast and, when Lord Cramer had done likewise, he would be glad if he would come into his study for a little conversation. "And, pray," he added, "how was Lady Cramer when you left her?"
"In the finest of health and spirits," was the answer. "Indeed, sir, you would vow she was but twenty years old. She is the gayest of the gay, and outdresses the Parisians."