“I do believe Janet is pitying me a little, because of the minister’s inconstancy,” she said to herself. “Why am I laughing at it, Rosie? You must ask Mrs Snow.”
“My dear, how can I tell your sister’s thoughts? It is at them, she is laughing, and I think the minister has something to do with it, though it is not like her, either, to laugh at folk in an unkindly way.”
“It is more like me, you think,” said Rose, pouting. “And as for the minister, she is very welcome to him, I am sure.”
“Nonsense, Rose! Let him rest. I am sure Deacon Snow would think us very irreverent to speak about the minister in that way. Tell me what you are going to do to-day?”
Rosie had plenty to do, and by and by she became absorbed in the elaborate pattern which she was working on a frock for wee Rosie, and was rather more remiss than before, as to doing her part for the entertainment of their guest. She had not done that from the beginning, but her quietness and preoccupation were more apparent, because the rain kept them within doors. Graeme saw it, and tried to break through it or cover it as best she might. Mrs Snow saw it, and sometimes looked grave, and sometimes amused, but she made no remarks about it. As for Mr Millar, if he noticed her silence and preoccupation, he certainly did not resent them, but gave to the few words she now and then put in, an eager attention that went far beyond their worth; and had she been a princess, and he but a humble vassal, he could not have addressed her with more respectful deference.
And so the days passed on, till one morning something was said by Mr Millar, about its being time to draw his visit to a close. It was only a word, and might have fallen to the ground without remark, as he very possibly intended it should do; but Mr Snow set himself to combat the idea of his going away so soon, with an energy and determination that brought them all into the discussion in a little while.
“Unless there is something particular taking you home, you may as well stay for a while longer. At any rate, it ain’t worth while to go before Sunday. You ought to stay and hear our minister preach, now you’ve got acquainted with him. Oughtn’t he, Graeme?”
Graeme smiled.
“Oh! yes, he ought to stay for so good a reason as that is.”
“There are worse preachers than Mr Perry,” said Mrs Snow, gravely.