“Shall I speak to him, Graeme? What would you like me to do? I don’t think there is much to fear for him.”
“Well, I will think so, too. No; don’t speak to him yet. It was hearing that he might be sent away, that made me speak to-night. I dare say I am foolish.”
They walked on in silence for a little, and then Graeme said,—
“I hope it is only that I am foolish. But we have been so happy lately; and I mind papa and Janet both said to me—it was just when we were beginning to fear for Menie—that just as soon as people were beginning to settle down content, some change would come. It proved so then.”
“Yes; I suppose so,” said Arthur, with a sigh. “We must expect changes; and scarcely any change would be for the better as far as we are concerned. But, Graeme, we must not allow ourselves to become fanciful. And I am quite sure that after all your care for Harry, and for us all, you will not have to suffer on his account. That would be too sad.”
They said no more till they overtook the children,—as Rose and Will were still called in this happy household.
“I have a good mind not to go, after all. I would much rather stay quietly at home,” said Arthur, sitting down on the steps.
“But you promised,” said Graeme. “You must go. I will get a light, and you need not stay long.”
“You must go, of course,” said Rose. “And Graeme and I will have a nice quiet evening. I am going to practise the new music you brought home.”
“A quiet evening,” said Will.