It was a Lover and His Lass

by Mrs. Oliphant

This silenced Miss Jean, whose mind was dazzled by her sister's greater purposes and larger grasp. She retired to her inner room with a compunction, feeling guilty. It was a shame to deceive even for the best motives, she felt; but, on the other hand, she could relieve her conscience to-morrow, and there was such sense in all Margaret said.

"Margaret is just a wonderful creature for sense," Miss Jean said to herself. This had indeed been her chief consolation in all the difficulties of her life.

Meanwhile, other conversations were going on among the groups which streamed from the manse, taken leave of heartily by the family at the gate. It was "such a fine night" that Mrs. Seton herself threw a shawl over her head, and walked, with those of her friends who were walking, to the gate.

"Oh, yes, yes, I'll not deny, though I say it that shouldn't, I think it has gone off very well," she said; "and, indeed, we have to thank Mr. Murray, for I take no credit to myself to-night. Oh, yes, I'll allow in a general way I do my best to keep you all going: but, dear me! I'm not to be mentioned by the side of Mr. Murray. A performer like him condescending to play your bits of waltzes and polkas for you!—you ought to be very proud. Oh, yes, I know fine playing when I hear it, though I never did much, except in the way of dance music, myself. In dance music I used to think I would give in to nobody; but pride will have a fall, and I have just sense enough to know when I'm beaten—oh, yes, that I am. You'll be very glad to come back to me when Mr. Murray is not to be had, I make no doubt; you are just ungrateful monkeys, but I'll trust you for that."

Mrs. Seton's voice ran on in a sort of continued solo, to which all the other murmurs of talk afforded an accompaniment. She shook hands with Lewis at the gate with the most cordial friendliness.

"And whenever you weary," she said, "be sure you just come up to the manse. Mr. Seton will always be glad of a talk, and there is nothing I like so well as to hear about foreign society and scenery and all that; and I can understand it better than most, for I have been up the Rhine myself: and Katie will be most grateful for a little help with her German; so, you see, you'll be welcome on every hand," the lady said, with a grasp of his hand which meant everything she said.

Lewis walked to the river-side with young Stormont, who was not quite so cordial.

"You've had it all your own way to-night, Murray," this young fellow said, with a laugh which was not pleasant to hear.

"They are very kind to a stranger—it is true hospitality; but I think it was you that had it your own way, for you would not listen to my music," said Lewis. Then he, too, laughed—a laugh which was to the other's like sunshine to a cloud. "I did cheat you all the same," he added, "for the waltz was Beethoven's too—and quite as difficult, if you had but known."

Mr. Stormont did not understand much about Beethoven, but he felt that it was impossible to say the fellow was stuck-up about his music; privately in his own mind he despised all male performances as things unworthy of the sex.