The Major looked at her with pleasure, and then asked, "How is Donald's sister? Is she as lovable and handsome as her brother?"
"Whiles—in a woman's way—yes. Her father's heart is set on her, and she is breaking her heart about Richard Cramer's going to India. What for, at all, did you send him?"
"Me send him?"
"Yes, you."
"Well, as you are a wise woman, and love all of the three youngsters, I'll tell you. I sent Richard Cramer out of my way. I sent him where he could not meddle or interfere with what I am doing to make him solvent and happy. And I wanted him to be under authority a little before I put him in full possession of a big estate, free of debt. He has had too much of his own way—he is obeying orders now—that's good for him."
"But when you set him free, what then?"
"He will marry Marion Macrae, and I count on a Macrae—man or woman—getting their full share of their own way in all things."
"Why did he not come and bid Marion good-bye last night? She is fairly ill this morning. Why did he not come?"
"Because, while the Minister and he were explaining themselves, a telegram came ordering him to join his ship without a moment's delay. She was going to sail Thursday, instead of Saturday. I had two men seeking him, and his valet had packed his valise, and he had twenty minutes to reach his train. He could not have written her, even a line, if someone had not been thoughtful enough to have paper and pencil ready to push into his hand."
"Then he did write to her?"