CHAPTER XI
AFTER "THE BALL."
She was conscious of what she had said an instant afterwards andblushed to the brow. If any one at that moment had asked her what's ina name, and she had been compelled to reveal her inmost convictions,the fair Rose, who by any other name would be as sweet, would haveanswered "impropriety, embarrassment, a host of unpleasant emotions."It was impossible to explain to him that she had been helping him tomake hay that evening in Lady Sarah Maitland's parlours, and that thatwas why the name that she had heard so frequently in the meadow hadleft her lips so easily and naturally that night. Better try and seemunconscious. But unconsciousness, like happiness, comes unsought ornot at all. As for Allan, his own name had never made such music inhis ears and surely to no lone watcher waiting for the dawn could thefirst blush of morn be more welcome than was to him this lovelymantling bloom on the face of the girl he loved.
"Charming!" "Exquisite!" "Do sing something else!" were theexclamations rained upon her as she ceased to sing, but she lookedonly to him.
"How is it I have never heard you sing before?" he inquired, with theapplause that the others had uttered shining unspoken in his eyes.
"You have too many professional singers about your home. I am afraidto sing before them. Did you ever hear birds called 'the angels ofearth?'"
"Never."
"Well, if nobody else originated the phrase I am willing to doso--rather than that it shouldn't be originated at all."
"It may be a pretty idea," said Allan, "and yet it fails to suit mycritical taste." They withdrew a little from the crowd, and found aquiet place in which to sit and chat, for now a pianist of note hadbeen led a willing sacrifice to the place Rose vacated.
"You must be hard to please," said Rose. "What can be more like anangel than a bird? It has wings, and it sings, and it is rejoicinglyhappy. It seems to be particularly blest every moment of its blessedlittle life."
"Very likely. Nevertheless I think a flower much more closelyresembles an angel."
"A flower? Why, there is scarcely a point of resemblance."
The young man laughed, but the slight whimsical frown between hisbrows deepened.
"Now that isn't at all what I expected you to say. I thought you mightbe kind enough to inquire, 'What flower?' and then I could reply, 'Thequeen of flowers.'"
Rose looked down a moment at the warm pink hands restlessly twiningand intertwining in her lap. "I am glad I did not make the inquiry,"she said.
"You don't like clumsy compliments?"
"I believe I don't like any kind from you."
"Why, please?"
"I don't know exactly, unless because it seems natural to expectsomething better."
Allan Dunlop was dimly aware that a compliment of a very high orderhad been paid to himself. "Our best friends are those who compel us todo our best," he said. "I hope you will always expect something betterof me than anything I have done."
It was the speech of an ambitious young man. They both recognized thenote of earnestness that seemed to place them for a moment above thefrivolous crowd about them. Only for a moment; then they lapsed easilyinto the light talk so natural to the occasion.
"Have you had a pleasant evening?" he asked.
"Very pleasant." Her mind reverted once more to her delightfulreverie, and the scent of new-mown hay was again about her. Then, asthough he could read her thoughts, she brought them back to thepresent with a quick little blush, and mentioned the name of thegentleman who had absorbed so large a part of her time, if not of herattention, through the evening.
"Now, why should she blush when she mentions his name?" thought poorAllan, with a sharp jealous pang at his heart, for the man she alludedto was an eligible bachelor, who had successfully resisted the charmsof one generation of maidens. "If you find Mr. Gallon's conversationso interesting," he said, rather forlornly, "mine will seem dull bycontrast. What was he expatiating upon?"
"Politics, mostly."
"Are you interested in that subject? I think of going into politicsmore deeply myself some time."
"Do you, indeed? More than you have?" If he had spoken of going into adecline Rose could not have looked more foreboding. Allan glancedacross half-enviously at the personage who had the power to investthat topic with interest. "He seems to be more than usually rousedto-night."
Rose suppressed a yawn. "Does he talk better when he is roused than hedoes when he's asleep?" she asked.
"Surely he displayed no signs of sleepiness when talking with you."
"No; but I cannot answer for myself."
That senseless pang of jealousy died a very easy death after all, andthe only sufferer from it would have been entirely happy were it notfor the advancing form of Commodore Macleod, who came in search of hisdaughter, and bore her off with a speed that left her lover a littlechilled and daunted.
The Canadian winter with its bright, fierce days and sparkling nightswas upon them, but it held no terrors for the young hearts who met itin a mood as defiantly merry as its own. Only a suffering or morbidnature sees in winter the synonym of death and decay; fancies thatmourning and desolation is the burden of the gaily whistling winds;and regards the bare trees, rid of their dusty garments, and quietlyresting, as shivering skeletons, and the dancing snow-flakes as thecolourless pall that hides from sight all there is of life andloveliness. Nature, when the labours of the year are over, sinks torest beneath her fleecy coverings, lulled to sleep in the kindly, yetfrosty, arms of the Northern tempest. What wild weird lullabies aresung to her unheeding ears, dulled by the lethargy of sleep. How earlyfalls the darkness, and how late the long night lingers, the better toensure repose to the sweet mistress of the earth! How bright thestarry eyes of heaven keeping watch above her rest!
The Macleods had settled in a furnished house, through which Rose hadalready diffused the charm of her dainty personality. She was kneelingbefore the hearth, like a young fire-worshipper, one snowy afternoon,and thinking a little drearily that the close environment of asnow-storm in town rendered it almost as lonely as the country, when avisitor was announced, the sound of whose name seemed to make thesolitude populous. It was Allan Dunlop, whom she instantly forgave forso soon availing himself of her permission to call, when she realizedhow welcome a break his coming made in the cheerless monotony of theday. He caught a glimpse of bright hair against a background ofblazing logs, and then she came forward to meet him, not eagerly, notshyly, but with a charming manner in which both eagerness and shynesswere suggested. At that moment all the warmth and brightness of thebleak colourless world shone for him in the eyes and hair of thissweet girl, and in the glowing fire-place before which she drew hischair.
"It is exactly the sort of day on which one expects to be free fromthe annoyance of callers," he said. "Ought I to apologize?"
"By all means--instantly--and in the most profuse and elaborateterms." She assumed her grand air, mounted a footstool, and stoodlooking over his head with her saucy chin elevated, waiting for theabject petition that did not come. The young man's heart rendered thetribute of an unmistakable throb to its "little queen;" but emotionaldeclarations are out of place after a short acquaintance, especiallywhen there exists a decided belief that they will be listened to in anunfriendly spirit, or, what is infinitely worse, in a friendly spirit.It was the fear of making Rose his friend that steeled Allan'sdetermination to bide his time, and that rendered his present replyrather more stiff than sensational.
"I beg a thousand pardons," he began, when she interrupted him with--
"Oh, that is too many. Do try and be a little more moderate in yourdemands. Would it please you to have me spend the whole afternoon inforgiving you?"
Allan laughed--a blithe contented little laugh. "Any way that you liketo spend the afternoon will please me," he said, "so long as I am notdeprived of your presence. Oh, not _that_ way," he added, as a littlefrown crept between her golden-brown eyebrows, "that way excepted."
"Very well. I'll not frown at you, but you must pro
mise not to come sonear again to the verge of a compliment."
"I promise. Anything to keep a frown from marring the--I mean fromyour face. But the difficulty is to think of anything that is as easyto say."
"You might better remind me of my faults."
"Oh, you could scarcely expect me to be eloquent on that subject. Ididn't know that they exist--that is to say, I am incapable ofspeaking upon a subject so wide reaching and profound. Are they likeunto the snow-flakes for multitude?"
"No, not quite so numerous, but far worse in quality. For instance,the other day I never smiled at papa the least bit when I said, goodmorning!"
"Horrible! what an unnatural daughter!"
"It was because he wouldn't let me dance as often as I wanted to thenight before. He said he must draw the line somewhere. It is strangethat the word _somewhere_ in that sentence invariably means theprecise point where it is most painful to have it drawn."
Allan Dunlop, who had already had some experience of the Commodore'sability to draw the line at the sensitive point designated by hisdaughter, murmured only, "very strange."
"Not that he was in the least unkind about it," continued Rose. "Papais always lovely to me, no matter how I behave."
"Very lovely?"
"_Very_ lovely."
"I never before was so struck with the truths of heredity," mused theyoung man. "You are exactly like him."
"_Oh_!" the girl dropped her face in her hands a moment, and thenthrust them out with the palms toward her guest. "You have need to bega thousand pardons and a thousand more to cover the offences you havecommitted. And you have broken your promise!"
"What a harsh accusation! I promised not to come to the verge of acompliment. Do you think that was on the verge?"
"No! It was too blunt--too dreadfully--"
"It is a pleasure to hear you so emphatically contradict an assertionmade by yourself."
"That is a mere quibble--a legal quibble. Well, there is no doubt thatyou would make a very successful lawyer."
"Is that a compliment, or does it approach the verge of one?"
Before this problem could be solved Herbert, who was deeply engaged ina game of checkers with his younger sister, at the other end of theapartment, suddenly announced: "Rose, here is Mr. Galton coming acrossthe street, making directly for our house."
"Oh, dear!" was the very inhospitable exclamation of its prettymistress. Then as she caught an amused glance from Allan's eyes, sheadded demurely, "I am so glad."
"Perhaps it would be better for me to go." The words escaped withobvious reluctance.
"Better for which of us?"
"For both, I think."
"Your charities are conducted on too large a scale. Now, if you couldonly content yourself with benefiting _one_ of us you would remain. Ihave a dread of that man."
"So have I, but from a different motive. As your dread increases, minegrows less."
Close analysis and consideration of this fact gave a very becomingtint to her cheeks as she welcomed the entering guest. "Ah, MissRose," he exclaimed, "blooming as ever, in spite of wintry days. Doyou know I came very near going past your door?" He allowed theannouncement of this providentially averted calamity to sink deep intoher heart, while he bowed to Allan.
"This is an unexpected pleasure," murmured the young lady, withsufficient formality to prevent her words from being dangerouslyinsincere.
"Unexpected to you and a pleasure to me?" queried the gentleman, witha keen glance at the pair, whose _tete-a-tete_ he had evidentlydisturbed, "or do your words bear reference to the idea of seeing megoing past your door?"
The amount of truth in these very good guesses startled the girl towhom they were addressed into an uncomfortable sense of guilt. "Howcan you accuse me of anything so horrid?" she said, drawing her chairnot far from him, and looking into his face with the appreciative airand attitude that are not to be resisted.
"Mr. Galton," said Herbert, who, having completed the game, andvanquished his sister, could afford to turn his attention to thefrivolous conversation of his elders, "do you know what Rose saidwhen she saw you coming? She said, 'Oh, dear, I am so glad!'"
"Herbert," implored Rose, crimsoning under these carefully reportedwords, and fearing that Mr. Galton, not being aware of the motivewhich prompted them, would not know whether to be ecstatic orsarcastic, "you are a terrible boy!"
"Herbert has done me a great kindness," exclaimed the flatteredgentleman, who considered Rose's embarrassment quite natural, and verypleasing under the circumstances. "All my doubts of a welcome he hashappily removed."
In the fear that these doubts might unhappily return if he wereallowed to continue conversation with a too-confiding younger brother,Rose devoted herself with nervous intentness to his entertainment, andsucceeded brilliantly. Fragments of laughter and chat drifted acrossto where Eva was trying to persuade Allan into playing checkers.
"Just one game, please, Mr. Dunlop," pleaded the little damsel, inresistless accents.
"If you but knew what a wretched player I am," said the young mangloomily.
"Oh, _are_ you a wretched player?" she exclaimed brightly, "I am soglad. Then there is some chance for me." She added confidentially, "Iam even more wretched."
"I hope you may never have the same reason to be," said Allan, with ahalf-suppressed glance at the lively pair near the window.
A lover, from his very nature, must be decidedly unhappy or supremelyblest, and it is scarcely to be expected that perfect felicity canreign in a heart whose pretty mistress is spending her smiles onanother man. Allan did not believe that Rose really cared for Mr.Galton--he had seen too many proofs to the contrary--but he didbelieve that she was giving that objectionable gentleman every reasonto think that she did care. With how many men did she pursue thiscourse of action, and was he to believe her guilty of carelesscoquetry? Upon how many admirers may a rose breathe perfume and stillkeep its innocent heart sweet for its lover? These were the questionsthat rankled in his mind, while Eva set the checkers in place.
"Perhaps I can keep you from getting a king," she said exultantly.
"If I can only keep my queen," observed the young man absently.
"Why, Mr. Dunlop, there are no queens in this game; it isn't likechess."
"There! you see how little I know about it," was the regretful reply.
Despite this painful manifestation of ignorance the two combatantsappeared for a while to be very equally matched. Then the advantagewas clearly on Allan's side. His king committed frightful havoc amongthe scattered ranks of the enemy, till suddenly, as he observed thepainful stress of attention and warm colour in the face of his fairlittle foe, a strange and unaccountable languor fell upon his troops.They seemed to care not whether they lived or died, while theirshameless commander, surveying them with anxious countenance, gavevent to his emotion in such ejaculations as, "Dear me!" "Why didn't Isee that move?" or, "The idea of your taking two men at one jump!" Atlast the announcement that he was completely vanquished was joyfullymade by Eva, and incredulously listened to by Herbert, who viewed hissister's opponent with amazement, not unmingled with pity.
"The battle is indeed lost!" Herbert said, quoting the historic wordsin a consolatory way; "but there is time to win another."
"I'm afraid not," said Allan, rising and preparing to depart.
"I wish that you could have won the game, too," said Eva, suddenlystricken with remorse in the midst of her good-fortune.
"You are a very kind little girl. I can depend on you to consider myfeelings."
The accent, ever so slight, upon the "you" aroused Rose's attention."Why, you are not going?" she exclaimed, coming towards him.
"Such is my charitable intention," he replied, smiling with sad eyes.
"I was only waiting for you to finish your game before bringing Mr.Galton to the fire to talk politics with you."
"That is a warm topic, and a warm place."
"Perhaps Mr. Dunlop fears that we shall quarrel on the subject. Youknow w
e are on different sides, Miss Macleod."
"We shall hardly come to blows, I think," returned Allan, with thelook of bright good-fellowship which made him a favourite with bothpolitical parties.
"The idea of your quarrelling with anybody!" said Rose, as sheaccompanied him to the door.
"I may have a very serious disagreement with him some time," repliedher jealous though unacknowledged lover, "but it will not be aboutpolitics."
He ran hastily down the steps, unconsciously brushing againstCommodore Macleod, who favoured him with a bow of about the sametemperature as the weather. Muttering a hurried excuse, he went oninto the cold gloom of the early winter twilight, shivering slightly,not from the chill without, but from the deadlier chill within. 'Whata pompous unbearable old fellow the elder Macleod was. How could heendure to have him for a father-in-law? Ah! how could he endure notto have him?' The fear that he might never stand in a closerrelationship to a man for whom he had so little liking lay heavilyupon him.
That same evening the object of these mingled emotions laid adetaining hand upon the shoulder of his pretty daughter as she bent tobestow a bed-time kiss upon his grizzled moustache. "I wish to have alittle conversation with you, my dear, on a serious subject."
"Oh, but Papa," replied the spoiled girl, "I am not at all in aserious frame of mind."
"It is highly probable that you will find yourself so at the end ofour talk."
"Charming prospect! After such an inducement as that I can't resistany longer." She sank back into a low chair near a great case ofbooks, for they were sitting in the cosy library.
"I met young Dunlop coming out of the house as I was coming in," beganthe Commodore. "I was sorry to see that."
"I was sorry to see it, too, Papa, but he couldn't be persuaded tostay longer."
"That is not a very respectful answer to give to your old father;nevertheless, I am glad to hear it, as it assures me that you have notreached the point when his absence will leave you sad."
"Oh, no! But I am willing to admit that over Mr. Galton's departure Idid come very near shedding tears--of joy."
"I hope my little girl will have no cause to shed any other kind."
"His little girl" endeavoured to look oracular as she replied: "Thatwill largely depend upon the nature of the information you are aboutto communicate to me."
"It is only a request, my dear! I wish for your own sake that youwould have as little as possible to do with that young Dunlop."
There was an appreciable interval of silence. Rose stared hard at thefire. Her father added, "Of course, I do not wish you to do anythingunreasonable."
"I am sure of that," said the girl softly, "nor anything unkind."
The gentleman stirred a little uneasily in his chair. "You mustremember," he said, "that the greatest unkindness one can do anotheris to encourage false hopes in him."
"How would you like me to treat him?"
"Oh, my dear child, I can't tell. You know perfectly well yourself. Bepreoccupied, absent-minded, indifferent, when he comes. Make himrepeat what he says, and then answer him at random. Look as though youhad a thousand things to distract your attention, and treat him asthough he were the chair on which he is sitting."
"And you think that would be an ample and delicate return for thecountless kindnesses shown me by himself, and his people last summer?"
"Oh, hang himself and his people!" was the Commodore's mental comment.Aloud he said, "Well, the young fellow could hardly leave you toperish under the horse's heels. What he did was only common decency."
"Then, perhaps, it would be as well to treat him with common decency.Don't you think that desirable quality is omitted from your course oftreatment?" Her tones were those of caressing gentleness, but theflame of the firelight was not more red than the cheek on which itgleamed.
"Why, bless me, Rose, I don't want you to give him the cut direct.There is no need to put him either in paradise or the inferno. Betteradopt a happy medium."
"Yes; but purgatory is rather an unhappy medium."
"Well, my dear, I have nothing more to say. I suppose it is naturalthat you should set aside the counsel of a man who has loved you fornineteen years in favour of the attention of one who has known youabout the same number of weeks."
"Papa, you are unjust!" The repressed tears came at last, but theywere dried as quickly as they dropped.
"Can't you understand," he continued in a softened tone, "that I wouldwillingly give him anything in return for his kindness--except myeldest daughter?"
"That is a gift he would never value. A society man might do so, butthe idea of a young fellow of talent and energy and ambition andbrains looking at a little goose like me!"
The Commodore laughed. "No doubt it would be a great hardship for himto look at you; but young men of talent, ambition and that sort ofthing are not afraid of hardship. In fact they grow to love it. So youthink he would not value the gift?" He laughed again very heartily.
"I am perfectly certain," declared the young girl, with impressiveearnestness, "that he will never stoop to ask you for it."
"Then there is nothing more to be said," replied the Commodore, withan air of great relief. "The whole question could not be moresatisfactorily settled. You are my own loyal little girl and--and youdon't think me a dreadfully cross old bear, do you?"
She went straight to his arms. "How can I help it," she asked, withher customary bright smile, "when you give me such a bearish hug?"
But alone in her room, the smile vanished in a tempest of fast-comingtears. There was a reason for them, but she was unconscious of itthen. Later she discovered it to lie in the fact that in her heart ofhearts she was not a "loyal little girl" at all, but an "out and outlittle traitor and rebel."