But it is impossible to describe the consternation of Mr. Charles when he heard of the departure of their visitor. This was when he returned to luncheon, which he did at the cost of some personal inconvenience—for he had to return to the Links for a match at three o’clock. It was sheer benevolence that brought him, and fear least Marjory should feel herself uncomfortable—thus receiving a stranger, “and no man in the house.” The announcement, however, took him entirely by surprise. “Mr. Fanshawe away!” he said; “bless me, Marjory, what has taken him away? What did the man come for, if he was to go away so soon? I was just saying to myself to-day, if he was the same as he was at Pitcomlie, we might have a difficulty in getting rid of him; and here I find he’s off! Maybe, my dear, it was your fault?”
She was annoyed with herself for blushing; but she answered calmly enough: “I do not think so, uncle; he took me very much by surprise.”
“Well, my dear,” said Uncle Charles, “you must manage your own affairs, and no doubt you’ll do it well; but you must mind that though he’s a very pleasant person, and was very serviceable, we’ve heard but a poor account of Mr. Fanshawe. I cannot say I recollect, just at this moment, what it was I heard—”
“Whatever it was,” said Marjory, with some heat, “I do not believe it, Uncle Charles.”
“Well, well!” said Mr. Charles once more, in a tone of soothing; “I do not bid you believe all you hear, my dear; still it should not be altogether neglected; that’s not wise; in short, far from wise. To tell the truth, if he is not away in a pet about something I know nothing of, I’m not sorry, for my part, to be alone to-day. I am vexed by some news I have from good Dr. Murray. I will have to go over there.”
“Has anything gone wrong?”
“These young women,” said Mr. Charles, shaking his head; “I doubted it from the appearance of them. These young women are behaving themselves very strangely, my dear; they are turning everything upside down. From what I hear, they are meditating meddling with the house; pulling something down, or putting something up, I cannot tell which; but it’s a thing that must not be allowed—nay—so far as I’m aware—guardians have no such power. I mean to speak to Mungo Barmaster this afternoon, and see what he says. But the end of it will be, that I shall have to go over myself,” said Mr. Charles, as if there was in that suggestion something very terrible and decisive. He knitted his gentle brows, and repeated once more, with a wavering swing upon his long legs, “I will have to go over myself.”
Here another impulse seized upon Marjory, which she obeyed suddenly in her excitement, by way of relieving her own highly wrought feelings.
“Uncle Charles,” she said, “there is something on my mind which I would like to tell you. I do not know what you may think of it, whether it may trouble you or please you; but anyhow, it is not a thing we can be indifferent to. I once showed you a letter I had found among poor Tom’s papers.”
“Among Tom’s papers! Ay! do you say so? I’ve no recollection—”