The Twa Miss Dawsons Part 5

Jean was different. Her dress was made of some dim stuff that looked in the distance like brown holland. A seafaring friend of her father's had brought it to her from India, her aunt remembered, and it came into her mind that perhaps there had not been enough of it, to make the frills and flounces, that young people were so pleased with nowadays. It was severely simple in contrast with her sister's, and her hair was gathered in one heavy braid at the back of her head. She had not her sister's fair and smiling loveliness, but there was something in her face that went far beyond it, her aunt thought, as she watched them standing there looking over the lawn to some one approaching along the road. Her face was bright and her air cheerful enough at the moment, but for all that there was a look of thoughtfulness and gravity upon it--a silent look-- which reminded her father of his sister's look at her age. Only she was more beautiful. She was like a young princess, he thought, in his pride in her.

"Is it her gown?" asked he; "or is it the way that Jean puts her hair?

What has 'come o' a' her curls this while back?"

The question was not to be answered. The opening of a little gate at the side of the lawn made them turn, and then Mr Dawson rose to greet a stranger who was coming up the walk. He was not quite a stranger to him. He knew his name and that he was a visitor at Blackford House, a gentleman's seat seven miles away. It was at this gentleman the girls had been looking, and at the lady who was in the carriage with him, as they pa.s.sed slowly along the highway.

He was a tall fair man--young and good looking--very handsome indeed.

He was a little too much inclined to stoutness perhaps, and rather languid in his movements, it might have been thought, as he came up the walk; but no fault could be found with his graceful and friendly greeting.

It was Miss Jean Dawson that he wished to see. It had been suggested to his sister, Mrs Eastwood, that Miss Dawson would be able to tell her what she wished to hear of a poor woman in whom she took an interest.

She had been at Miss Dawson's house in Portie, and hearing she was at Saughleas, had called on her way to Blackford, to save another journey.

She was in her carriage at the gate, and could Miss Dawson send her a message? Or perhaps--

The gate was hidden by a clump of firs. Miss Jean gave a glance in that direction and then laid her hand on her staff. Then she beckoned to her nieces who were still on the terrace. Jean came quickly toward her, and May followed more slowly. It was worth a body's while, Phemie told her fellow servants afterwards, just to see the way the gentleman took off his hat and bowed as Miss Dawson came near. Phemie saw it all from her young lady's window upstairs, and she would have liked well to hear also.

"It is about Mrs Cairnie, Jean, my dear. Ye ken her daughter Annie went south last year, and her mistress promised to see her mother, when she came north, and would like to hear o' her. I might maybe get to the gate with your help?"

"Certainly not. You are not able to walk so far. If a message will not do, it must wait."

Miss Jean shook her head with a slight smile. She had seen "Miss Dawson's grand air" before, and so had May, but her father looked at her amazed. It was not her words that startled him so much as her manner.

She looked at the stranger who stood with his hat in his hand, as though he were at an immense distance from her. But in a minute she added more gently:

"I will take a message, aunt, if you wish. Or, I could--"

"Pray do not think of such a thing. I could not think of troubling you," said the young man confusedly.

"Or I could write a note," said the young lady taking no notice.

"Or the lady might drive into the place. She need not leave her carriage," said Mr Dawson, not quite pleased at his daughter's manner.

"Certainly that will be much the best way," said the stranger, bowing to Miss Jean and the young ladies.

Miss Jean the elder was generally sparing of words of reproof, and even of words of advice, unless advice was asked, and she said nothing. But May exclaimed,--

"You might have been civil to him at least, Jeannie. We have not so many gentlemen coming to see us."

"To see us! It was Auntie Jean he came to see--on an errand from his sister. And I think it was a piece of impertinence on his part to expect Miss Jean Dawson to go at his bidding--and you so lame, auntie,"

added Jean as she saw her aunt's face.

"He couldna ken that, and I'm no' sure that he did expect me to go to the gate. And I'm no' feared for my ain dignity, Jean la.s.sie, and I dinna think ye need be feared for it either."

"Dignity!" exclaimed May. "Why, he is one of the fine folk that are staying at Blackford House."

"And that is the very reason," said Jean hotly--"the very reason that I--"

"It's but a poor reason," said Miss Jean.

But no more could be added, for the carriage was pa.s.sing round the drive toward the spot where Miss Jean was sitting. The lady was driving her own ponies, and very nice she looked in her fresh muslins and simple straw hat. She was not very young, judging from her lace, which was thin and rather dark, but she had a youthful air, and a sweet smile, and seemed altogether a pleasing person. Even Jean could find no fault with her manner, as she addressed her aunt. There was respect, even deference, in every tone of her voice, and in every bend of her graceful head.

There was not very much to be said between them however. Miss Jean told the lady where Mrs Cairnie lived. Any body in Portie could have told her that. Then there was something said about the poor old lady's wants and ways, and the chief thing was that the daughter had sent some money and other things, which were to be left in Miss Jean Dawson's hands, for a reason which the lady could not explain. But explanation was unnecessary, for Miss Jean knew more of poor Tibby Cairnie's troubles and temptations than even her own daughter did.

It was all arranged easily enough, but still the lady seemed in no hurry to go. She could hardly have gone at once, for Mr Dawson had taken Captain Harefield round among the trees, and they were out of sight at the moment May admired the ponies, and Jean stood with her hand on her aunt's chair looking straight before her.

"A striking face and graceful figure, and a wonderfully intelligent look as well," thought Mrs Eastwood, and then in a pretty friendly way she seemed to include the silent girl in the talk she had been making with Miss Jean about the trees, and the views, and the fine weather they had had of late; and when Miss Jean became silent, as she generally did unless she had something to say that needed to be heard, Jean took her part in the conversation and did it well.

When the gentlemen returned, Mrs Eastwood still seemed in no haste to go. A new idea had seized her. Would Miss Dawson kindly go with her some morning soon to see Mrs Cairnie? It would be a pleasure to a faithful servant, if she could tell her on her return that she had seen her old mother; and if Miss Dawson could make it convenient to go with her, she would call some morning soon, and drive her to Portie.

No serious objection could be made to this, though in her heart Miss Jean doubted whether the absent Annie would care much to have the lady see her old mother, who was not always in a state fit for the eyes of "gentlefolk." However a day was set, and other little matters agreed upon, and then with many pleased looks and polite hopes that they might meet again, their visitors went away.

That night when they were sitting alone in the long gloaming, the sisters being not at home, Mr Dawson suddenly returned to the discussion of the subject which had been touched on in the garden.

"I couldna divide the land, but there is enough of money and other property to do fair justice to the other, and I think the land should go to Jean."

His sister said nothing.

"She is the eldest, and the strongest in every way. If she were to give her mind to it, she might, in time, hold her own in the countryside with the best of them."

He was silent for a minute.

"And she might many, and get help in that way. And her son would have the place. And he might take my name, which is an honest one at least."

"Ye're takin' a lang look," said Miss Jean at last.

He gave an uncertain laugh.

"Oh! weel! That's atween you and me, ye ken. It might be. A lad like him that was here the day, for instance--a gentleman by birth and breeding. He is a poor man, as poverty looks to the like of him, a two or three hunder pounds or so a year. It would be wealth to most folk, but it's poverty to the like o' him. But if it should so happen--and I were to live another ten years--I might satisfy even the like o' him."

There was much which Miss Jean might have said to all this, which fell like the vainest folly on her ears, but she said nothing.

"And as for my Jean!--she needs to see the world and society, and all that, doubtless, but if there's many o' the fine London ladies that will hold a candle to her as far as looks go--it's mair than I think. She might stand before the queen herself with any of them."

And still Miss Jean said never a word.

"It might very well be, and I might live to see it. There's more land to be had too, if I'm willing to pay the price for it--and with this in view I might care to do it. I'll do nothing in haste."

He seemed to be speaking to himself, rather than to her.

"I'll do nothing in haste," he repeated. "But I could do it, and there would be some good in life--if this thing could be."

"Are ye forgetting that ye ha'e a son somewhere in the world?" said his sister gravely.

Mr Dawson uttered a sound in which pain and impatience seemed to mingle.

"Have I? It is hardly to be hoped. And if he is--living--it is hardly such a life as would fit him to take his place where--he might have been. I think, Jean, it might be as weel to act as if I had no living son."

"But yet he may be living, and he may come home." Mr Dawson rose suddenly and went and leaned against the darkening window.

"No, Jean, if he had ever been coming home, he would have come ere now.

He was seen in Portie not three months since, and he never came near me.