There was a great deal of enjoyment crowded into the few weeks of their stay. “If Harry were only here!” was said many times. But Harry was well, and well content to be where he was, and his coming home was a pleasure which lay not very far before them. Their visit came to an end too soon for them all; but Norman was a busy man, and they were to go home by Merleville, for Norman declared he should not feel quite assured of the excellence of his wife till Janet had pronounced upon her. Graeme was strongly tempted to yield to their persuasions, and go to Merleville with them; but her long absence during the summer, and the hope that they might go to Emily’s wedding soon, decided her to remain at home.
Yes; they had enjoyed a few weeks of great happiness; and the very day of their departure brought upon Graeme the pain which she had almost ceased to fear. Arthur told her of his engagement to Miss Grove. His story was very short, and it was told with more shamefacedness than was at all natural for a triumphant lover. It did not matter much, however, as there was no one to take note of the circumstances. From the first shock of astonishment and pain which his announcement gave her, Graeme roused herself to hear her brother say eagerly, even a little impatiently—
“Of course, this will make no difference with us at home? You will never think of going away because of this, Rose and you?”
By a great effort Graeme forced herself to speak—
“Of course not, Arthur. What difference could it make? Where could we go?”
When Arthur spoke again, which he did not do for a moment, his tone showed how much he was relieved by his sister’s words. It was very gentle and tender too, Graeme noticed.
“Of course not. I was quite sure this would make no change. Rather than my sisters should be made unhappy by my—by this affair—I would go no further in it. My engagement should be at an end.”
“Hush, Arthur! It is too late to say that now.”
“But I was quite sure you would see it in the right way. You always do, Graeme. It was not my thought that you would do otherwise. And it will only be a new sister, another Rosie to care for, and to love, Graeme. I know you will be such a sister to my wife, as you have ever been to Rose and to us all.”
Graeme pressed the hand that Arthur laid on hers, but she could not speak. “If it had been any one else but that pretty, vain child,” thought she. She almost fancied she had spoken her thought aloud, when Arthur said,—