“Oh! the voyage is nothing; a matter of ten days or less,” said Arthur. “It is like living next door neighbours, in comparison to what it was when we came over. Of course he may come any month. I don’t understand your desolation, Charlie.”
Charlie laughed. “When is Will coming?”
“It does not seem to be decided yet,” said Graeme. “He may come in the spring, but if he decides to travel first, as he seems to have an opportunity to do, he will not be here till next autumn, at the soonest. It seems a long time to put it off; but we ought not to grudge the delay, especially as he may never get another chance to go so easily and pleasantly.”
“What if Will should think like Mr Ruthven, that a life at home is to be desired? How would you like that, girls?” said Harry.
“Oh! but he never could have the same reason for thinking so. There is no family estate in his case,” said Rose, laughing.
“Who knows?” said Arthur. “There may be a little dim kirk and a low-roofed manse waiting him somewhere. That would seem to be the most appropriate inheritance for his father’s youngest son. What would you say to that Graeme?”
“I would rather say nothing—think nothing about it,” said Graeme, hastily. “It is not likely that could ever happen. It will all be arranged for us, doubtless.”
“It was very stupid of you, Harry, to say anything of that sort to Graeme,” said Rose. “Now, she will vex herself about her boy, as though it were possible that he could stay there. He never will, I know.”
“I shall not vex myself, indeed, Rosie—at least I shall not until I have some better reason for doing so, than Harry’s foolish speeches. Mr Millar, you said you might go home next summer. Is that something new? Or is it only new to us?”
“It is possible that I may go. Indeed, it is very likely. I shall know soon.”