“I wonder if uncle will say anything to David Lindsay? I hope he will not, for it was I who brought him to the house this time,” she said to herself, as she knocked again, for her first summons had not been answered. Now, however, the door opened, and Dame Lindsay appeared, smiling kindly, as of old, though looking rather feebler and more infirm than Gloria had ever seen her.
“Ah, young lady, is it ’eeself at last come to see the old ’oman? I knew ’ee would sooner or later! Come in, dearie. Eh! then, what is all this? and where is David, that he has not brought them for ’ee?” she said, on espying the parcels.
“Oh, Granny Lindsay, he did bring them for me, he and uncle; but I would not let them stop. I sent them back to the boat, because I wanted to have you all to myself,” said Gloria, as she picked up one bundle, while the old woman took the other, and they entered the house together.
“Now sit ’ee down, and take off ’ee things, dearie,” said the dame, as she placed a chair.
“I will sit down, dear Granny Lindsay, but not take off my hat this time, because uncle would come, and his doing so has prevented me from spending the day with you as I wished so much to do; for, oh! I remember what happy, happy days I used to have here with you and David! And nothing is changed here! Nothing, nothing! The very chest of drawers and table and chairs sit in the very places where they used to sit in the sweet old time.”
“Why, dearie, everything sits where it must sit. In a room like this everything is put into the place where it fits best, and there it has to stay. There is no room for alterations, dearie.”
“Well, I like to see it as it used to be. Now, dear Granny Lindsay, I must tell you that I wanted to come to see you the day after my arrival home; but it was raining that day and for a week afterwards, and when it cleared off and David Lindsay so kindly came to fetch me, he was told that I was engaged. Well, I might have been doing something, and probably was, but it was nothing that I would not have willingly dropped for the sake of coming to see you, if I had only been told that David Lindsay had come for me; but I was not told—I was never told. I should never have known if I had not met him by chance this morning.”
“I know, I know, dearie, David told me. It was ’ee good guardian’s prudence, dearie, as I explained to David. ’Ee must mind ’ee guardian, dearie, and be guided and governed by him until ’ee comes of a proper age, little lady, and all the more must ’ee submit ’eeself to him who stands in a father’s place, because ’ee has no mother, dearie,” said the dame, speaking conscientiously and affectionately.
“Ah,” thought the poor girl, “if she knew how he frightens and distresses me, she would not say that! I wonder if I could tell her? No, because I could not explain! How could I explain? There is nothing to explain.”
With a sigh Gloria turned from her perplexed thoughts to the pleasant task before her.