"What's the matter?" cried Jean, for the memory was in some way painful to her, and reflected itself so in her face.
"Nothing," exclaimed Olive, withdrawing her hand in mortified haste, and flushing scarlet again.
"I thought perhaps you was getting ready to blow his head off," exclaimed Mr. Congreve, as if in relief. "That's something the way you looked at me, only not so ferocious, no! God bless my soul, no! I should have run if it had been; I should indeed. Now let's go to supper. Jeanie, come and help your old uncle along, and Roger, you take your Cousin Olive, and lead the way."
Olive was angry, mortified and confused, so her reception of Roger's arm was none too gracious, nor the few words she uttered in answer to what he said, anything but barely audible and civil. Sensitively aware that she had allowed her feelings to get possession of her in the commencement, she tried to rectify matters now, and grew so frigid that there was no thawing her out. Roger Congreve's eyes wore a constant twinkle, and he looked at her so frequently that Olive defiantly felt that he was laughing at her awkward confusion, and the thought made his prospects towards gaining her friendship, none too bright. So on the whole, supper was not a successful meal, for Mr. Congreve never, when at the table, allowed any duty or pleasure to interfere with his eating; in consequence of which, he now devoted himself solely to chicken and chocolate, with only an occasional word, shot in edgeways, between bites. Jean was worried, because Olive looked so displeased, and as for Mr. Congreve the younger, he soon found that their guest preferred to say little or nothing, so allowed her to have her way. Immediately at the close of the meal, Jean and Olive went up stairs. Mr. Congreve went to sleep, with a big pocket handkerchief over his head, and his hands folded solemnly over his waistcoat; and the young gentleman took himself away,—to see "Miss Murray," said Jean, as she settled in Olive's lap for a chat. "I know he's going there, because I heard him tell Carl, that's the gardener, to gather a beautiful bouquet."
For the first week the two sisters were left entirely to themselves; and they talked early and late, until every step travelled by each; during their separation, had been gone over, and made familiar with, by the other. Almost every day, Jean wanted to hear Ernestine's story repeated, and each time it seemed to grieve her more, though she never failed to say with a patient trusting faith—"She will come back, I know she will, for I ask God every night, and then somehow I always feel as though he had said to me: 'Wait a little longer Jean, I'm not ready quite yet,' so I'm waiting, Olive."
Such perfect unquestioning faith, was something that Olive could not understand; and many times, when Jean spoke in such a simple trusting way, of how she talked to God, and told Him her little wants and worries, the elder sister would feel, with a thrill of fear, that perhaps God was going to take onto Himself, the child, who, all her short life had seemed to breath the air of Heaven more than of earth; and that up above, she would be united to the sister, who seemed lost to them below.
They wrote home nearly every day, and Olive's letters were such blessings, for were they not filled, from beginning to end, with news of Jean! How she was growing strong and well, and would, perhaps, walk before Fall; how every one, from Uncle Ridley down, were devoted to her, and what a little dream of luxury her life was now, with every want or wish gratified, and everything that heart could wish. "And she is so sweet and unselfish," writes Olive. "A very little angel she seems to me, mama, and every hour that I spend with her, helps me in some way. There is a little lesson for me in all her childish words, and I'm not ashamed to tell you that I wish I could be more like her, though I never can. She seems apart some way, and is a constant study, that becomes more precious to me every day. When I pray, it seems to me like an important extra thing, that I must make some preparation for and be precise about; and then I cannot help feeling, that perhaps I'm not heard after all, which I know is wrong; but it is so different with Jean. She goes to God, as she would to you or papa, and never seems to doubt that every word is heard, and interested in. She is perfectly confident that Ernestine is coming back, and it gives me hope just to be near such perfect faith."
After having given them several days of uninterrupted talk, Mr. Congreve began to lay claims to more of their time. He said he was lonesome for Jean, and that he was not getting any better acquainted with Olive, than as if she had staid at home; and that he thought they might talk to him, five minutes a day, at least; so after that, Jean spent her usual time with him, and Olive brought bits of sewing, or a little sketch she might be working on, down to the library, and they spent hours together. It was a pleasing study, to see how this companionship with the girls, affected the crusty old gentleman. He would sit by the hour with Jean on his knee, listening to her quaint childish talk, and looking alternately at her and at Olive, sketching or sewing, in the window seat; and the dear knows, what all he might be thinking about; but it must have been much; for it sometimes got the better of him, in a way that made easy breathing difficult, and brought the red handkerchief into vigorous use; and then he would jump up, flurry about, as though he were scaring a whole brood of chickens from the room.
"There! clear out, clear out; God bless my soul! I want to read and be quiet awhile. Jeanie, hunt up my glasses, and get down my book, and then trot out, and be quick about it."
The first time he dismissed them in this abrupt fashion, Olive left with dignity, and told Jean that they would not trouble him again; then she thought it over, and changed her mind, and went back the next day as usual, to his evident surprise, for he had noticed her heightened color the day before, and little expected to see her back; so that when she came in, he gave vent to an astonished "humph!" and after a moment's pause, took one or two thoughtful turns around the room.