CHAPTER XV

  A PECULIAR DINNER-PARTY

  We did not stop at Aboyne, but ran on beyond Kincardine O'Neill, andtook our second rest close to the Bridge of Potarch where we had tea atthe little hotel on the right bank of the river. Then for a while weleaned over the parapet and looked at the water flowing swiftly farbelow as the river narrows from its pebbly bed to the gorge of rock onwhich the bridge rests. There is something soothing, perhaps somethinghypnotic, in the ceaseless rush of water. It unconsciously takes one'sthoughts on and on, till the reality of the present is in some measurelost and the mind wanders towards imagination through the regions of theunknown. As I looked at Marjory, with the afternoon sun falling on hersuperb figure and showing up her clear-cut profile with all the finishof a cameo, I could not but be struck with the union of gentleness andindependence which was so clearly manifested in her. Without thinking, Ispoke out my mind. It is a privilege of those who understand each other,or of the very young, to give voice to the latter portion of a train ofthought without feeling it necessary to enlighten the hearer as to whathas gone to make up the conclusion. The feeling was hourly growing uponme that, even if I could not quite understand Marjory, at least sheunderstood me.

  "But then all you American girls are so independent!" She did not seema bit surprised by this fag end of reasoning; she had evidently beenfollowing up some train of thought of her own, and by some happyinstinct my words fitted in with it. Without turning towards me, butstill keeping her eyes fixed down the stream to where far away it swayedto the right through a gap between pine clad hills she answered:

  "Yes! We are as a rule brought up to be independent. It seems to be apart of what our people call the 'genius' of the country. Indeed formany, women as well as men, it is a sort of necessity. Our nation isso vast, and it expands so quickly, that there is nearly everywherea family separation. In the main, all the children of one generationbecome the heads of families of the next. Somehow, the bulk of our youngpeople still follow the sunset; and in the new life which comes toeach, whether in the fields or in the city or in the reclamation ofthe wilderness, the one thing which makes life endurable is thisindependence which is another form of self-reliance. This it is whichenables them to brave hunger and thirst and all danger which comes topioneers; which in the cities makes the solitude of lonely life bearableto the young as well as to the old; which makes them work and studyin patience; which makes them self-sacrificing, and thrifty, and longenduring. I tell you it is this which makes a race of patriots, whosevoices swell in unison till the great voice of the nation, raised insome good cause, can ring and echo through the world!" As she spoke shegot more and more earnest, more and more enthusiastic, till her voicebegan to vibrate and her face to flush. When she turned towards me atthe end, her eyes were full of spiritual light. I looked at her, and Isuppose my love as well as my admiration must have expressed itself, forher eyes fell and the flush on her face melted into a soft blush. Sheturned, looked at the water again, and then went on speaking:

  "This is the good side of our independence and _faute de mieux_ itserves; those who know no better do not miss what might be. But oh! ithas to be paid for. The little sufferings of day by day can grow into amass which in the end outweighs those seemingly far greater ills whichmanifest themselves all at once. No one knows, no one ever will know,how much quiet, dull pain goes to tame a woman's heart to the solitudeof life. I have not seen so much of it as some others; my life has beenlaid in pleasant places, and only through the small accidents of lifehave I come to know of the negative pain which other girls have toendure. It is so much to have round one the familiar faces of our youth;to meet sympathy at every turn of life, and to know that there isunderstanding for us always. We women have to give something in order tobe happy. The stronger-minded ones, as we call them, blame the Creatorfor this disposition of things--or else I do not know who or what theyblame; but the rest of us, who are wise enough to accept what cannotbe altered, try to realise what can be done for the best. We all wantto care for some one or something, if it is only a cat or a dog. Formyself, so far back as I can remember, I longed to have a brother orsister, but I think that in my secret heart it was a brother I wanted.Of course as I merged into my actual surroundings I grew out of this;but once it was brought home to me with new force. We were staying for afew days in one of those great English houses where there was a growingfamily of boys and girls. There was one sweet young girl, just about myown age, who seemed idolised by all her brothers. When we arrived theywere all going in to evening prayers. The last of the sunlight wasfalling through the old stained glass window of the great baronial hall,and lit up the little family group. The girl sat between two of heryoung brothers, great stalwart lads who had all the characteristics ofa family of soldiers. During prayers each of them held one of her hands;and when they all knelt, her arms went round their necks. I could nothelp feeling deeply--down into the very depths of my soul--how goodit was for them all. I would have given everything I have, or am everlikely to have, that mine had been such an upbringing. Think, how inafter years it will come back to those boys in hours of trial, or pain,or prosperity, or passion; in all times when their manhood or theirhonour or their worth is to be tried; how they will remember the wordswhich were spoken to them as those were spoken, and were listened to asthose were listened to, in the midst of sympathy and love. Many and manya time in years to come those boys will bless such hours, and GodHimself will surely rejoice that His will was being wrought in so sweeta way. And the same thing is going on in a thousand English homes!" Shepaused and turned to me and the feeling in her heart found expression inthe silent tears that ran down her cheeks. Again she turned her eyes tothe running water and gazed awhile before speaking again. Then lookingat me, she went on:

  "And the girl, too, how good it was for her! What an antidote toselfishness! How much of self-control, of sympathy, of love, oftoleration was begun and fostered and completed in those moments of theexpression of her heart! What place can there really be for selfish wantand sorrows in the heart of a woman so trained to sympathise with andhelp others? It is good! good! good! and I pray that in the laterdevelopment of my own dear country, all such things may have a part.Expansion at its present rate must soon cease; and then some predominantidea must take the place of the eternal self-independence. We shall, Itrust, moult no feather of our national feeling of personal duty; butI am sure that our people, and more especially our women, will leadhappier as well as healthier lives."

  This present phase of Marjory's character was new to me, fresh andenchanting. Every hour seemed to bring out new worths and beauties ofthe girl's character, of her intellectual gifts, of the endless wealthof her heart.

  When she ceased speaking I took her hand in mine, she not resenting, andkissed it. I said only one word "Marjory!" but it was enough. I couldsee that in her eyes which made my heart leap.

  Then a new life seemed to come to both of us. With one accord we movedtowards our bicycles, and mounted in silence. After a few minutes ofrapid spin down the sloping road from the bridge, we began to chat againgaily. For myself I was in wildly joyous spirits. Even a self-doubtinglover could not fail to understand such a look in his mistress's eyes.If ever love spoke out in eloquent silence it was then, all doubt meltedfrom my heart, as the night shadows pale before the dawn. I was contentto wait now, illimitably and in silence. She, too, seemed altogetherhappy, and accepted in unquestioning faith all the little pleasureswhich came in the progress of our journey. And such pleasures are many.As we drew down the valley of the Dee, with the mountains fallingback and the dark pinewoods running up them like tongues of flame andemphasising by their gloom the brightness of grass and heather whichcropped up amongst the rocks beyond, every turn of the road brought usto some new scene of peaceful beauty. From under the splendid woods ofCrathes Castle we saw the river running like a blue ribbon far to theeast and on either side of it fields and gardens and woods spreadingwide. On we sped with delight in every moment, till at last throughm
iles of shady woods we came to the great stone bridge, and ended ourjaunt over the rough granite cobblestones of Aberdeen.

  We were a little before the time the train was due; so leaving ourwheels in the Palace Hotel we went down on the platform to meet Mrs.Jack on her arrival.

  We met her in due course, and brought her up to the hotel. At thestairway Marjory, who had lingered half a flight behind her companion,whispered to me:

  "You have been a good boy to-day, a real good boy; and you shall beforelong have your reward." As she gave me her hand, I whispered:

  "I am content to wait now Marjory; dear Marjory!" She blushed andsmiled, and fled upstairs with a warning finger laid upon her lips.

  It had been understood that I was to dine with Mrs. Jack and her friend,so I went up to the room which I had secured, to change my clothes.When I came down, in what I thought was a reasonable time, I went tothe private sitting-room and knocked. As there was no answer I knockedagain; then receiving no reply I took it for granted that the ladies hadnot yet come from their rooms and entered.

  The room was empty but on the table which was laid for dinner for threewas a note in Marjory's hand directed to me. With a sinking of the heartI opened it, and stood for a few minutes amazed. It had no apostropheand ran as follows:--

  "We have had to leave suddenly, but Mrs. Jack wants you to oblige her very much if you will be so good. Stay in the room, and when dinner is served sit down by yourself and eat it. Please, please do not think hardly of Mrs. Jack's request; and do not fail to carry it out. There is good reason for it, as you will very soon know. More depends on your doing as Mrs. Jack"--the "Mrs. Jack" was written over an obliterated "I"--"asks than you may think. I am sure that by this time you know you can trust me.

  "MARJORY."

  The situation was disappointing and both humiliating and embarrassing.To be a guest under such conditions was almost ridiculous; and underordinary circumstances I should have refused. But then I remembered thatlast look of Marjory's eyes at the bridge of Potarch! Without a word, oranother thought, of revolt I sat down to the dinner which the waiter wasjust now bringing into the room.

  As it was evident to me that my staying in the room was for some purposeof delay, I lingered over my wine and had two cigars before I cameaway.