“Of course she had heard something,—that they cared for one another,—and that George’s heart was nearly broken when Elsie died. But she had never heard of your displeasure, nor of some other things. Though how he thought it would help him to tell all this to her, I canna tell—unless he may be afraid that—But she is to go hame with her brother, it seems, and I hope that no ill may come o’ my bringing her here.”
“Nonsense, Jean! What ill should come of it? And why should you take the blame of it? It was her mother’s doing, sending her here. And if it should end in her agreeing with James Petrie, ye may be sure she will be well pleased.”
“I’m no’ sure. Though, puir body! she maybe was thinking o’ that too.”
“It is to be supposed that she kens her ain mind about it. James Petrie will be a rich man some day. Doubtless she thinks of that.”
“Less than ye would suppose. But she is not a strong woman, and if any thing were to happen to her, the lassie would be left alone almost. She would be safe here among douce, well-doing folk, like the Petries, and in time she might be content enough.”
“But how should he think to help his cause by—by telling that tale? And what kens he about it?”
“He kens just what other folk ken, and guesses something, I dare say. He thought to help his wishes by letting her ken, that when George looked kindly at her it was for her sister’s sake.”
“George!” repeated Mr Dawson in dismay. Miss Jean had not been betrayed into saying this, though that was her brother’s first thought.
“Yes. She is like her sister—and he hasna forgotten her. But I think it was chiefly your anger and vexation that he held up to her—as against his own father’s kindness.”
“But George?” repeated Mr Dawson. “Yes. But it is not George I am thinking about, but Marion. And her mother too. Do ye ken that though he has ay gone to see Mrs Calderwood whenever he has been in London, George had never seen her daughter after the time of May’s marriage till he saw her the ither night at Saughleas? That was her mother’s will. What with one thing and another,—his love for her sister, and his friendship for her brother, and his being lost from hame so long—the lassie was ay inclined to make a hero of George. And minding on Elsie, and all she had suffered, the mother grew to have a fear that was unreasonable, lest Marion should come to care for him beyond what should be wise. So she kept her out of his sight, and she would never have let her come north but that she knew George was going away. She may have had her ain thoughts of young Mr Petrie—as I had myself, since he showed that he had the sense to see her value.”