“And you?” he said, turning to Rena. “Were you with your cousin, and did you like Glasgow and Scotland?”
“Scotland, yes, very much; but really, I didn’t care so much for Glasgow as for some other cities, Edinburgh, for instance,” was Rena’s truthful answer.
“Umpht!” came a little testily from Mr. McPherson, who turned again to Irene, listening with rapt attention while she talked, drawing a good deal upon her imagination, but doing it so well that Rena wondered where she was when Irene saw all she was describing and wished she had seen it, too!
Irene knew how to use her eyes and hands when talking, and if the former were not like Nannie’s, they were so effective and did their work so well that Mr. McPherson was as fully impressed as she could have desired. A clause in his brother’s will was to the effect that although he was to have a life interest in the house, Reginald was to live there after his marriage as much of the time as he chose. On this account Colin was especially interested in the girl who was to be Reginald’s wife and anxious to see her.
“She’ll do. She is just the one to grace our house,” was his mental verdict, as he arose to go.
“By the way,” he said, “I came near forgetting one part of my errand, I have been so well entertained. I have arranged to have you to dinner to-morrow at six. The carriage will come for you at five, and Miss Rena, and the other lady—Miss Bennett.”
Irene was profuse in her thanks. She would like to see the McPherson house, of which she had heard so much, she said.
“You will come, of course. I want to compare you with Nannie,” Colin said to Rena, putting his hand on her hair in a caressing kind of way as if she had been a child he wanted to pet.
She did seem to him much younger than Irene, she was so short and slim, and the expression of her face was so frank and open and innocent.
“Yes, I’ll come,” she said, while I, too, accepted rather reluctantly, feeling that I might be de trop with the young people.