Shenac's Work at Home Part 13

Is he coming to-morrow?"

"No," said Shenac sharply; "I told him their own barley was as like to suffer for the want of cutting as ours. When we want him we'll send for him."

"But you did not anger him, Shenac, surely?" said her mother.

"No; I don't think it. I'm not caring much whether I did or not," said Shenac.

"Anger him!" cried Dan. "You may be sure she did. She's as grand as if she were the first lady in the country."

This was greeted by a burst of merry laughter from the two Shenacs.

Even the mother laughed a little, it was so absurd a charge to bring against Shenac. Dan looked sheepishly from one to the other.

"Well, it's not me that says it," said Dan angrily; "plenty folk think that of our Shenac.--And you had no business to tell him not to come, when I had spoken to him."

"What will Sandy care for a girl like Shenac?" asked his cousin mockingly.

"Well, _I_ care," persisted Dan. "She's always interfering and having her own way about things--and--"

"Whisht, Dan, lad," pleaded the mother.

"I didn't know that you had spoken to Sandy--not that it would have made any difference, however," added Shenac candidly.

"And, Dan, you don't suppose any one will care for what a girl like Shenac Bhan may say. He'll come all the same to please you," said Cousin Shenac.

"Whether he comes or not, I'm going to McLay's raising," said Dan angrily. "Shenac's not _my_ mistress, yet a while."

"Whisht, Dan; let's have no quarrelling," pleaded the mother.--"Why do you vex him?" she continued, as Dan rushed out of the room.

"I did not mean to vex him, mother," said Shenac gently.

This was only one of many vexatious discussions that had troubled their peace during the summer. Sometimes Shenac's conscience acquitted her of all blame; but, whether it did or not, she always felt that if Hamish had been at home all this might have been prevented. She did not know how to help it. Sometimes her mother blamed her more than was quite fair for Dan's fits of wilfulness and idleness, and she longed for Hamish to be at home again.

Dan went to the raising, and, I daresay, was none the better for the companions.h.i.+p of the offended Sandy. Shenac stayed at home and worked at the barley till it grew dark. She even did something at it when the moon rose, after her mother had gone to bed; but she herself was in bed and asleep before Dan came, so there was nothing more said at that time.

The harvest dragged a little, but they got through with it in a reasonable time. There were more wet weather and more anxiety all through the season than there had been last year; but, on the whole, they had reason to be thankful that it had ended so well. Shenac was by no means so elated as she had been last year. She was very quiet and grave, and in her heart she was beginning to ask herself whether Angus Dhu might not have been right, and whether she might not have better helped her mother and all of them in some other way. They had only just raised enough on the farm to keep them through the year, and surely they might have managed just to live with less difficulty. Even if Dan had been as good and helpful as he ought to have been, it would not have made much difference.

Shenac would not confess it to herself, much less to any one else, but the work of the summer had been a little too much for her strength and spirits. Her courage revived with a little rest and the sight of her brother. He did not come back quite a new man, but he was a great deal better and stronger than he had been for years; and the delight of seeing him go about free from pain chased away the half of Shenac's troubles. Even Dan's freaks did not seem so serious to her now, and she made up her mind to say as little as possible to Hamish about the vexations of the summer, and to think of nothing unpleasant now that she had him at home again.

But unpleasant things are not so easily set aside out of one's life, and Shenac's vexations with Dan were not over. He was more industrious than usual about this time, and worked at cutting and bringing up the winter's wood with a zeal that made her doubly glad that she had said little about their summer's troubles. He talked less and did more than usual; and Hamish bade his mother and Shenac notice how quiet and manly he was growing, when he startled them all by a declaration that he was going with the Camerons and some other lads to the lumbering, far up the Grand River.

"I'm not going to the school. I would not, even if Mr Stewart were coming back; and I am not needed at home, now that you are better, Hamish. You can do what is needed in the winter, so much of the wood is up; and, at any rate, I am going."

Hamish entreated him to stay at home for his mother's sake, or to choose some less dangerous occupation, if he must go away.

"Dangerous! Nonsense, Hamis.h.!.+ Why should it be more dangerous to me than to the rest? I cannot be a child all my life to please my mother and Shenac."

"No; that is true," said Hamish; "but neither can you be a man all at once to please yourself. You are neither old enough nor strong enough for such work as is done in the woods, whatever you may think."

"There are younger lads going to the woods than I am," muttered Dan sulkily.

"Yes; but they are not going to do men's work nor get men's wages. If you are wise, you will bide at home."

But all that Hamish could get from Dan was a promise that he would not go, as he had first intended, without his mother's leave. This was not easy to get, for the fate of Lewis might well fill the mother's heart with terror for Dan, who was much younger than his brother had been.

But she consented at last, and Shenac and Hamish set themselves to make the best of Dan's going, for their mother's sake.

"He'll be in safe keeping with the Camerons, mother, and it will do him good to rough it a little. We'll have him back in the spring, more of a man and easier to do with," said Hamish.

But the mother was not easily comforted. Dan's going brought too vividly back the going of those who had never returned; and the mother fretted and pined for the lad, and murmured sometimes that, if Shenac had been more forbearing with him, he might not have wanted to go. She did not know how she hurt her daughter, or she never would have said anything like that, for in her heart she knew that Shenac was not to blame for the waywardness of Dan. But Shenac did not defend herself, and the mother murmured on till the first letter came, saying that Dan was well and doing well, and then she was content.

About this time they had a visit from their Uncle Allister, their mother's brother, in whose house Hamish had pa.s.sed the summer. He brought his two daughters--pretty, cheerful girls--who determined between themselves, encouraged by Hamish, that they should carry off Shenac for a month's visit when they went home. They succeeded too, though Shenac declared and believed it to be impossible that she should leave home, even up to the day before they went. The change did her a great deal of good. She came back much more like the Shenac of two years ago than she had seemed for a long time; and, as spring drew on, she could look forward to the labours of another summer without the miserable misgivings that had so vexed her in the fall. Indeed, now that Hamish was well, whether Dan came home or not, she felt sure of success, and of a quiet and happy summer for them all.

But before spring came something happened. There came a letter from Allister--not this time to the mother, but to Angus Dhu. It told of wonderful success which had followed his going to the gold country, and made known to Angus Dhu that in a certain bank in the city of M--- he would find a sum of money equal to all his father's debt, with interest up to the first day of May following, at which time he trusted that he would give up all claim to the land that had been in his possession for the last two years, according to the promise made to his father. He was coming home soon, he added; he could not say just when. He meant to make more money first, and then, if all things were to his mind, he should settle down on his father's land and wander no more.

It was also added, quite at the end of the paper, as though he had not intended to speak of it at first, that he had had nothing to do with the going away of his cousin, as he had heard the lad's father had supposed, but that he should do his best to bring him home again; "for," he added, "it is not at all a happy life that folk must live in this golden land."

To say that Angus Dhu was surprised when this letter came would not be saying enough. He was utterly amazed. He had often thought that when Allister was tired of his wanderings in foreign lands he might wander home again and claim his share of what his father had left. But that he had gone away and stayed away all this time for the purpose of redeeming the land which his father had lost, he never for a moment supposed. He even now thought it must have been a fortunate chance that had given the money first into Allister's hand and then into his own. He made up his mind at once that he should give up the land. It did not cost him half as much to do so as it would have cost him two years ago not to get it.

It had come into his mind more than once of late, as he had seen how well able the widow's children were to manage their own affairs, that they might have been trusted to pay their father's debt in time; and, whatever his neighbours thought, he began to think himself that he had been hard on his cousin. Of course he did not say so; but he made up his mind to take the money and give up the land.

And what words shall describe the joyful pride of Shenac? She did not try to express it in words while Angus Dhu was there, but "her face and her sparkling eyes were a sight to behold," as the old man afterwards in confidence told his daughter Shenac. There were papers to be drawn up and exchanged, and a deal of business of one kind or another to be settled between the widow and Angus Dhu, and a deal of talk was needed, or at least expended, in the course of it; but in it Shenac took no part. She placed entire reliance on the sense and prudence of Hamish, and she kept herself quite in the background through it all.

She would not acknowledge to any one who congratulated her on Allister's success, that any surprise mingled with her pleasure; and once she took Shenac Dhu up sharply--gave her a down-setting, as that astonished young woman expressed it--because she did not take the coming of the money quite as a matter of course, and ventured to express a little surprise as well as pleasure at the news.

"And what is there surprising in it?" demanded Shenac Bhan. "Is our Allister one whose well-doing need astonish any one? But I forgot. He is not _your_ brother. You don't know our Allister, Shenac."

"Don't I?" said Shenac Dhu, opening her black eyes a little wider than usual. "Well, I don't wonder that you are proud of your brother. But you need not take a body up like that. I'm not surprised that he minded you all, and sent the money when he got it; but it is not, as a general thing, the good, true hearts that get on in this world. I was aye sure he would come back, but I never thought of his being a rich man."

Shenac Dhu sighed, as if she had been bemoaning his poverty.

"She's thinking of Evan yonder," said Shenac Bhan to herself. "Our Allister is not a rich man," she said gravely. "He sent enough to pay the debt and the interest. There is a little over, because your father won't take the interest for the last two years, having had the land.

But our Allister is not rich."

"But he means to be rich before he comes home," persisted Shenac Dhu; "and neither he nor Evan will be content to bide quietly here again-- never. It aye spoils people to go away and grow rich."

Shenac Bhan looked at her with some surprise.

"I cannot answer for Evan, but our Allister says he is coming home to stay. I'm not afraid for him."

"Oh, but he must be changed after all these years. He has forgotten how different life is here," said Shenac Dhu with a sigh. "But, Shenac, your Allister speaks kindly of our Evan--in the letter your mother got, I mean."

"That he does," said Shenac Bhan eagerly. "He says they are like brothers, and he says your father need not be sorry that Evan went away.

He needed hardening, and he'll win through bravely; and Allister says he'll bring Evan with him when he comes. You may trust our Allister, Shenac."

"May I?" said Shenac Dhu a little wistfully. "Well, I will," she added, laughing. "But, Shenac, I cannot help it. I _am_ surprised that Allister should turn out a rich man. He is far too good for the like of that. But there is one good thing come out of it--my father has got quit of the land. You can never cast that up again, Shenac Bhan."

Shenac Bhan's cheek was crimsoned.

"I never cast it up to you, Shenac Dhu," said she hastily. "I never spoke to any one but himself; and I was sorry as soon as I said it."

"You need not be. He thought none the worse of you, after the first anger. But, Shenac, my father is not so hard a man as folk think. I do believe he is less glad for the money than he is for Allister and you all. If Evan would only come home! My father has so set his heart on Evan."