Thus she followed her thoughts backward and forward until the night grew chilly; then she began again her preparations for sleep, saying softly to herself as she did so: "I am a wiser woman to-night than I was in the morn. I know now why my poor little Marion is to be made to marry Allan Reid, and, moreover, why her selfish father wants the marriage immediately. It is to prevent the joking about his own marriage, for if she got into the Cramer family first it would take a deal of courage to marry his daughter's mother-in-law. My goodness! What a lot of quiet fun and pawky jokes there would be passing round. I must talk it out with Marion in the morning. I am going to sleep now—sleeping must go on, whether marrying does—or not."
In some respects Mrs. Caird's theory was wrong. It was likely that Dr. Macrae had some nascent, unacknowledged admiration for Lady Cramer, but never until that day had he hoped to marry her. Marriage had been so long and so resolutely barred from his thoughts and feelings that it took the encouragement of Lady Cramer to bring it to recognition in his hopes and desires—so the selfishness Mrs. Caird presupposed had not been in any way as yet conscious to him. The situation was sure to present itself, but it had not yet done so. It was probable, also, that it would affect him precisely as it affected Mrs. Caird, but how he would meet or baffle it no one could say. A man in love cannot be measured by those perfectly sane and cool; besides, love has secret keys with which to meet difficulties.
Mrs. Caird had determined to sleep well, but she was restless and had disturbing dreams, for,
"No tight-shut doors, or close-drawn curtains keep
The swarming dreams out, when we sleep."
And the calm freshness and beauty of the morning almost irritated her. What did Nature care that she was unhappy, that she had painful puzzles to solve, and the very unpleasant inheritance from yesterday to dispose of? Still she was disposed to be reasonable, if others were. But Dr. Macrae was neither ready nor wishful to bring questions so important to a hurried and already inharmonious discussion. At that hour the affair between Lady Cramer and himself was more hopeful than settled, her affection being of a tentative rather than of an actual character. She was as yet experimenting with her own heart, and the Minister's heart was a necessary part of the trial, while his sublime confidence in her little coquetries amused her.
Breakfast was usually a very pleasant meal, but this morning all were reserved and silent. Dr. Macrae knew the value of a cool indifference, and he took refuge in that mood. Nothing interested him, he was lost in thought, he answered questions in monosyllables, and placed himself beyond conciliation in any form. Even Marion's remarks passed unheeded, though his heart failed him when she laid her small hand on his and asked softly,
"Are you sick, dear Father?"
"No," he answered, "I am in trouble."
"Can I help you, Father? What is it? Tell me, dear."
"I have brought up children, and they have rebelled against me." His voice was sad and low with the pathetic reproach, and he rose with the words and went to his study. Marion, with a troubled face, turned to her aunt.