“No, papa. I am not—going with him. He will find some one who will care for him, and who will fill the high position that he can give her better than I could do.”
In his heart the father did not believe that, but he only said,—
“Very likely. You must please yourself I only wish you to ken your ain mind, and understand what you are refusing. He will be Sir Percy Harefield, and there may come a time when you will regret your refusal.”
“I don’t think it, papa.”
“As for not wishing to leave your brother and me—George will marry sometime, and then you will be but second with him, though he may be first with you.”
“Of course he will marry, papa. And I will be ‘Auntie Jean’ to his bairns. And I’ll ay have you, papa.”
“But, Jean, I want you to understand. When George marries it is my intention to give up Saughleas to him. His wife will be mistress here then.”
He watched her face as he said this. She was not looking at him, but out at the window, standing in the full light. She turned to him with a smile like sunshine on her face.
“Then I could live with Auntie Jean when you didna need me any more. ‘The twa Miss Jean Dawsons!’ Wouldna ye like that, Auntie Jean? But, papa,” she added gravely, “it wouldna please George to hear you speak of giving up Saughleas to him.”
“He need not hear it till the right time comes. There need be no haste. His choice will be the wiser the longer he waits, let us hope.”