“There are a great many to keep Harry from a fate like that, besides me,” said Graeme, “even if there was any danger to one of his loving and generous nature.”
She was more in earnest than the occasion seemed to call for.
“Graeme,” said Fanny, eagerly, “you don’t suppose Arthur is in earnest. He thinks there is no one like Harry.”
Arthur laughed.
“I don’t think there are many like him, certainly, but he is not beyond spoiling, and Graeme, and you, too, make a great deal too much of him, I am afraid.”
“If that would spoil one, you would have been spoiled long ago,” said Graeme, laughing.
“Oh! that is quite another matter; but as to Harry, it is a good thing that Rose is coming home, to divert the attention of you two from him a while,” added he, as his brother came into the room. “And you will do your best to spoil her, too, if some of the rest of us don’t counteract your influence.”
“What is it all about?” said Harry. “Are you spoiling your son, Fanny? Is that the matter under discussion?”
“No. It is you that we are spoiling, Graeme and I. We admire you quite too much, Arthur says, and he is afraid we shall do the same for Rose.”
“As for Rose, I am afraid the spoiling process must have commenced already, if admiration will do it,” said Harry. “If one is to believe what Norman says, she has been turning a good many heads out there.”