'O hush you and cease your din;
For I'm going back to my sleeping,
Till Meenie brings summer in.'
Well, it was but a trifle; but trifles are sometimes important things when seen through lovers' eyes.
Next morning he went along to the Botanic Gardens; paid his sixpence with equanimity (for he had dispensed with the ceremony of dining the previous day) and entered. It was rather a pleasant morning; and at first sight he was rather shocked by the number of people—nursemaids and children, most of them—who were idly strolling along the trimly-kept walks or seated in front of the wide open parterres. How was he to find Meenie in such a great place; and, if he did find her, were they to walk up and down before so many eyes? For he had guessed that Meenie would be in no hurry to tell her sister of what had happened—until the future seemed a little more clear and secure; it would be time enough to publish the news when that had assumed a more definite character.
But on and on he went—with glances that were keen and sharp enough—until suddenly, just as he had passed the greenhouses, he came almost face to face with Meenie, who was seated on a bench, all by herself, with a book before her. But she was not reading. 'O and proudly rose she up'; and yet shyly, too; and as he took her hand in his, the joy with which she regarded him needed no confession in words—it was written there in the clear tender eyes.
'Indeed I am so glad to see you, Ronald!' she said. 'I have been so miserable these two days—
'But why?' he asked.
'I don't know, hardly. I have been wondering whether I had done right; and then to go about with my sister, keeping this secret from her; and then I was thinking of the going away back to Inver-Mudal, and never seeing you, and not knowing how you were getting on. But now—now that you are here, it seems all quite right and safe. You look as if you brought good news. What does he think, Ronald?'
'He?' he repeated. 'Who?'