“Please, please Daddy and … Husband I would really rather you two went first, and arm in arm as father and son should go. For that is what it is to be from this on; isn’t it? I would rather a thousand times see the two men I love best in all the world going so, than walk in front of them as a Queen.”
“That’s very prettily said!” was the comment of her father. Then with a fond look back at her he took the young man’s hand from his own arm and placed his own hand on the other’s arm. “That’s better!” he said. “Age leaning on Youth, and Beauty smiling on both!”
And in this wise they entered the Sheriff’s room, in time to see him sitting at one end of the sofa and Judy sitting at the furthest corner away from him—blushing.
CHAPTER XXIII.
A HARMONY IN GRAY
As the trio entered the room Judy jumped from the sofa vivaciously. The Sheriff followed with an agility wonderful in a man of his age; he bade them all welcome with a compelling heartiness. Judy was full of animation; indeed she out-did herself to a degree which made Joy raise her eyebrows. Joy was a sympathetic soul, and unconsciously adapted herself to her Aunt’s supra-vivacity.
To Colonel Ogilvie, less enthusiastic by nature and concern, it appeared that she was as he put it in his own mind “playing up to the old girl.” He seemed to realise that the Sheriff was ardent in his intentions; and, with the calm, business-like aptitude of a brother-in-law to a not-young lady, had already made up his mind to give his consent.
Judy flew to Joy and kissed her fervently. The kisses were returned with equal warmth, and the two women rocked in each other’s arms, to the envy, if delight, of certain of the onlookers viewing the circumstance from different standpoints. Judy took her niece to the now-vacated sofa, and an animated whispering began between them. Joy’s attention was, however, distracted; her senses had different objectives. Her touch was to Judy sitting beside her and holding her close in a loving embrace; her ears were to her father who was talking to the Sheriff. But her eyes were all with her husband, devouring him. There came a timid knock at the door, and in answer to the Sheriff’s “Come in,” it was partly opened. The voice of the landlady was heard: “May I speak with ye a moment, Sheriff?” He went over to the door, and a whispered colloquy ensued, all his guests turning their eyes away and endeavouring in that way, as usual, to seem not to be listening. Then the Sheriff, having closed the door, said:
“Our good hostess tells me that there will be a full half hour of waiting before we can breakfast, if she is to have proper time to do justice to the food which she wishes to place before us. So I must ask pardon of you all.”
“Capital! Capital!” said Colonel Ogilvie, “that half hour is just what we want. Mr. Sheriff, we have a little ceremony to go through before we breakfast. The fact is we are going to have an Irregular Marriage. If you are able to take part in such a thing I hope you will assist us.” Joy rose up and stood beside Athlyne. The Sheriff answered:
“Be quite easy on that point, sir. I am not in my own shrieval district, and so, even if such were contra to my duties at home, I am free to act as an individual elsewhere. But who are the contracting parties? You are married already; so too are your daughter and my Lord Athlyne. Indeed it looks, Miss Hayes, as if you and I are the only available parties left. But I fear such great happiness is not for me; though I would give anything in the wide world to win it!” He bowed to her gallantly and took her hand. She looked quite embarrassed—though not distressed, and giggled like a schoolgirl.