Rose laughed, a little, uncertain laugh, that had the sound of tears in it; and when Charlie took her hand and put it within his arm, she did not withdraw it, and they went over the field together.
Graeme had been watching them from the porch, and as they passed out of sight, she turned her eyes toward Mrs Snow, with a long breath.
“It has come at last, Janet,” said she.
“I shouldna wonder, dear. But it is no’ a thing to grieve over, if it has come.”
“No. And I am not going to grieve. I am glad, even though I have to seek my fortune, all alone. But I have Will, yet,” added she, in a little. “There is no word of a stranger guest in his heart as yet. I am sure of Will, at least.”
Mrs Snow smiled and shook her head.
“Will’s time will come, doubtless. You are not to build a castle for yourself and Will, unless you make room for more than just you two in it, dear.”
Emily listened, smiling.
“It would be as well to leave the building of Will’s castle to himself,” said she.
“Ah! yes, I suppose so,” said Graeme, with a sigh. “One must build for one’s self. But, Emily, dear, I built Rosie’s castle. I have wished for just what is happening over yonder among the pine trees, for a long long time. I have been afraid, now and then, of late, that my castle was to tumble down about my ears, but Charlie has put his hand to the work, now, in right good earnest, and I think my castle will stand.”