A Romance of Toronto Part 30

"No, no; you are wrong. _You_ ought to know an Irishman to be the most gallant man that lives," Mr. Cobbe said, sulkily.

"Well, yes, perhaps you are the most gallant," she said, thoughtfully, "but in the bearing of an American man towards my s.e.x there is a something more--there is a gentle courtesy, a deference, a grave tenderness."

"Tut, tut," said Mr. Cobbe, turning over the leaves of an alb.u.m impatiently.

"I fear you flatter us," said Buckingham.

"No, I think not; simply because your great Republic is so highly civilized and progressive, the outcome of which is our enthronement with you; while, in other countries, we are still midway between our footstool of the dark ages and our throne with you."

Here Mr. St. Clair, Captain Tremaine, and a young barrister, a Mr.

McCullogh, made their _entree_.

"Your drawing-room is looking very pretty, Mrs. Gower," said Tremaine; "the holly and mistletoe brings me home again."

"Yes, it looks so well against the blue and tan panels, that I am tempted to let it stay."

"Where did you get it; it is very fine and healthy?" asked St. Clair, admiringly.

"Well, thereby hangs a tale; it is a Christmas gift from Santa Claus.

All I know about it is, it came (Thomas thinks) from Slight's."

"It was no slight to you, Elaine," said Cobbe, jokingly.

On the mention, before so many, of her Christian name she made an expressive _moue_ at Tremaine, unseen by the others, whose attention was momentarily given to several booklets and cards which lay on a pretty gilt stand, and while Miss O'Sullivan and McCullogh turned the pages of "Erminie" for Miss Crew at the piano.

"Wait until Monday, Buckingham. I take the Midland then, in your direction," said St. Clair.

"Impossible, St. Clair. I should have been as far as Lindsay yesterday."

On the clock striking three, St. Clair started to his feet, b.u.t.toning his coat.

"Good-bye, Mrs. Gower. 'Time and tide,' you know."

"Oh, yes; but Time is not such a churl as to bid you away before I have had even a look at you."

"But we men come to look at you, to-day, and, as usual, gratify ourselves. _Au revoir_. I promised Noah to be back at three, to let him off for a skate."

"'What's in a name?'" said Tremaine. "I wonder what relation he of the Ark was to that boy."

"But fancy! I heard a clergyman in this city baptize an unoffending infant Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego."

"Did he throw in the 'and'?" laughed Tremaine.

"Oh, no. Did I give it?"

"Yes. Well, I just call my boy plain Paddy."

"Do you throw in the 'plain'?"

"Oh, come, now; you ladies are having the best of it all through to-day," he said, making his adieux.

"At the polls too?" she said gaily.

Several callers now came in in rapid succession, Mr. Cobbe rising as the last made their exit.

"Think of me, Elaine. I shall come in and cheer you up when I get through," he said, in a loud whisper, as she was having a last quiet word with Buckingham.

Here Mr. Blair entered, and both men thought they saw a something in her smile that had not been given them.

"Good-bye has come again, Mrs. Gower," said Buckingham. "One must always regret leaving Holmnest; but I have only time to catch my train."

"Good-bye, and may all your wishes be granted."

Miss O'Sullivan, saying she must really go, took Miss Crew (who had a new light in her face), Mr. McCullogh accompanying them.

"I am fortunate," said Mr. Blair, as the _portiere_ hangings closed after them; Mrs. Gower smiled.

"Rest, after running about; though I think the fas.h.i.+on of New Year's calls is fast dying out."

"It is, undoubtedly; this is my third and last. You are looking well after your frosty drive," he said, seating himself at the gilt stand beside her.

"Don't you think my friends have good taste?" she said, directing his attention to the cards and booklets; "this white ivory card is pretty, with its golden edge, white roses, and snowdrops, and gold bells, as they ring,

"May every Christmas chime awaken in your heart Each bliss of by-gone years in which your life had part."

"Yes," he said, thoughtfully, "if one could only drink a good b.u.mper of the waters of Lethe, and forget the pain, remembering only the bliss."

"But 'tis the memory of the bliss that brings the pain; at least I have found it so," she said gravely.

"Yes, you are right; I have not thought of putting it to myself in that way; but I must not give you a sad train of thought. Ah, this is original," he said, picking up a large card, on which was painted a bunch of scarlet poppies, with the lines:

"O! sleep; O! gentle sleep, how have I frighted thee, That thou no more will weigh my eyelids down, And steep my senses in forgetfulness?"

"All the way from Ottawa; he evidently sees your eyes, which keep his open," he said, trying to read her.

"You are fanciful, Mr. Blair;" but her color deepens under his gaze; "but, be it as you say, he should close his eyes, possess his soul with honor, and clasp the hand of duty."

"You give him a hard task, still I would lay any wager on your kindliness of heart, on your strong sense of honor. I don't think you would fool with a man's affections," he said, earnestly.

In spite of herself she trembles, for she feels that he is more to her than any living man; and as he sits, his elbows on the table, his fingers ran through his iron-grey hair, looking at her, her eyes droop, her hands nervously play with the cards, her sensitive lips showing her emotion, as she thinks of Mr. St. Clair's words to her the evening of their introduction, of the n.o.bility of this man's character, of his devotion to his late wife, of his clean record among men as to his truth and honor in all business transactions; and now she knows, intuitively, in fact, did at their first meeting, that his heart is seeking hers.

"I am right, you would not play with a man's affections; you have had sorrow yourself; tell me."

In spite of herself, a tear glistened in her eyes as she looked into his face, as she thought of her oath.

"No; do I look so faulty, frivolous and foolishly wicked?"

"No, you have a sweet, kind, womanly face," he said, smiling gravely; "and were I to tell you of my lonely life, and how I long for just such a womanly presence, just such companions.h.i.+p to gladden a home, to make my broken life complete, with a sweet sense of peace and rest, would you send me from you desolate?" and his voice thrilled with intense feeling.