It was Marion who displayed to Jean the various pretty and useful things already gathered.
On the mantel-piece was a handsome clock, and over it the picture of a ship with all her canvas spread, sailing over smooth seas, in the full light of the sun of an Arctic summer day. There was a low rocky shore in sight, and the gleam of icy peaks in the distance; but the ship with the sunshine on the spreading sails was the point of interest in the picture—and a pleasant picture it was for the eyes of a sailor’s wife to rest upon. They were both Mr George Dawson’s gift to the bride, Marion told Jean. Jean nodded and smiled.
“Yes, I know,” said she.
“Miss Dawson,” said Annie taking one step over the threshold where she had been standing all the time. “It is all your brother’s work, and you must let me say to you what I canna say to him. Though he had done no more good in the world, it was worth his while to live, to help in the saving such a lad as Tam Saugster.”
“They helped one another,” said Jean softly.
“Ay. That I can easily believe. There are few men like Tam when ance ye ken him.”
“And Jean thinks there are few like George,” said Marion smiling, as they came away.
“And isna that what you think of your brother?” said Jean.
“Oh! yes; and with good reason,” Marion said; and the rest of their talk was of their brothers, till they came to the gate of Saughleas.