Christian and Anne sat by the fire in a quiet corner. Lawrie, proud of his new kindred, and bashfully exultant over them all, hovered between them and the uncle Lewis, whose good looks and independent young manhood already powerfully attracted the boy: while on either side of Mrs. Ross herself sat Norman and Marion, and Lilie loyal to the newly-come mamma, joining her childish talk to theirs; and all so willing and eager to do honor to the head of the household—the sole remnant of an older generation. Deep peace fell upon Merkland that night in all its many chambers—deeper than had been there before for years.
The evening was not far spent when Archibald Sutherland stole in among them, not unwelcome, and with him to the gate of Merkland—no further—came Marjory Falconer; she had one word to say to Anne. Anne went to her at the gate; it was almost a relief in all this gladness to have a minute’s breathing time.
“I came to congratulate you, Anne,” said Marjory breathlessly. The moon was up, and at some little distance a tall dark shadow fell across the Oran, which Anne smiled to see. “To wish you manifold joy of all the arrivals—all, Anne. If I come down to-morrow, will you introduce me to your brother?”
“Surely, Marjory,” said Anne, “but why not come to-night?”
“I might have come if you had married Ralph,” said Marjory laughing, “but as it is, a stranger must not intermeddle with your joy. No, no—but I shall come to see them all to-morrow. By the by—”
“What, Marjory?”
“Oh, not much—only speaking of Ralph—I have found her at last; I have fairly laid my hands upon her. To-morrow I shall have her safely housed in Falcon’s Craig!”
“Who is it?—what do you mean?”
“The daughter of Nimrod! the mighty huntress! I have got her all safe, Anne. I invite you to a wedding at Falcon’s Craig in three months. I give them three months to do it in.”
“You should know the necessary time,” said Anne smiling.—”Shall there not be two, Marjory?”