Playing With Fire Part 9

"And yet, Jessy, Comte does not think all men worthy even of this honor.

Vast numbers will remain in a parasitic state on this Grand Being--really burdens on him, Comte says."

"O Ian! What a poor unhappy G.o.d! Put your thoughts on the first ten words in Genesis. Consider their infinite sublimity and simplicity. In the beginning G.o.d created the heavens and the earth. This G.o.d is our G.o.d, and He has been, and will be our dwelling place in, and for, all generations, _Our Father_! The weakest souls are not parasites or burdens to Him. Like a father He pities them."

"You are relying on the Bible, Jessy. It does not enter into Comte's scheme, and indeed what is called scientific religion discredits the Book generally."

"The Bible was not printed yesterday, Ian. Its a.s.sailants come and go, come and go, but it stands unmoved forever. With what new weapons can it be attacked? You told me yesterday that Strauss thought he had abolished Paul, and that Ewald answered there was nothing new in Strauss. As far as I can see, the giants of unbelief slay each other, while the Bible goes on to blend itself with the thought and speech of every land under the sun."

Such conversations became frequent between the Minister and his sister.

He appeared to provoke and enjoy them. And he looked with a kind curiosity at this woman who had sat nearly twenty years on his hearth, nursing his children, ordering his household, sewing, knitting, telling fairy tales, and yet pondering in her heart the highest questions of time and eternity. The facts violated all his conceptions of women, and one day, after a very vivid ill.u.s.tration of this kind, he said softly to himself, yet with intense conviction:

"Women are inscrutable creatures! I doubt if I know anything about them." And perhaps these very words were "the call" for the wider and sadder knowledge that awaited him.

On Sat.u.r.day he prepared to go to Glasgow to fulfil his usual duty in the Church of the Disciples; but his study of unbelief had got a stronger hold on his mind than he recognized. For the first time in all his ministry he felt a slight reluctance for spiritual work. But Mrs. Caird did not encourage this feeling, she was too anxious about Donald to miss his father's report of him, though she always discounted the same. But she reminded him for his comfort that when he returned from Glasgow on Monday he would find Marion at home to welcome him.

"I expect that," he answered promptly. "If I am disappointed I shall go to Cramer Hall for her."

However, very early on Monday morning Mrs. Caird saw Marion and Lord Cramer from afar, riding very slowly over the brae and, apparently, engaged in a conversation that admitted of none of the little irregularities of light or fugitive intercourse. Their att.i.tude as they came nearer was distinctly, though unconsciously, that of lovers; and when Mrs. Caird met them she saw with delight the suns.h.i.+ne on their faces, mingling with a glory and radiance far sunnier from within; and heard the pride and tenderness in Lord Cramer's voice as he said, "Good morning, Mrs. Caird, I have brought Marion safely back to you."

"You have done well," she answered. "The Minister was wearying for her."

"How soon will he return from Glasgow? I wish to speak with him."

"His times are not set times; he comes this hour, and that hour. He deviates a good deal and, as for speech with him, you had better choose any day but Monday."

"Why not Monday, Mrs. Caird?"

"Because a Minister's stock of loving kindness is apt to be low on Monday, and he is tired and not disposed to frivol, or talk of unsacred things."

"But I want to talk to him of the most sacred of all mortal things. I am sure Dr. Macrae will be reasonable on any day of the week."

"There is a likelihood, but I have lived long enough in this astonis.h.i.+ng world to observe that the head and the heart do not run over at the same time; and men keep their reasonable judgment the while. There's luck in leisure, Lord Cramer. Take my advice and leisure awhile."

Then Lord Cramer led Marion to the little summer house, and Mrs. Caird left them to give some orders concerning lunch, but when it was ready she saw Cramer riding away from the gate, and Marion, still in her habit, standing there watching him. Hearing her aunt's footsteps she turned, went to her side and, kissing her, said, "Dear Aunt, I am glad to be with you again."

"Then we are both glad, and your father will be glad also. Run upstairs and take off your hat and that width of trailing broadcloth. Then come and get a good lunch."

In a few minutes Marion appeared at the table in the simplest of her home dresses and, with a sigh of pleasure, said again, "Oh, but I am glad to be with you, Aunt!"

"Yet you had a happy time at Cramer Hall?"

"Richard was there. That was enough."

"And many other pleasant people?"

"Yes."

"And Lady Cramer?"

"I do not think she had a nice time. She was weary of company, and it was an effort for her to be quite polite during the last week."

"You ought, then, to have come home."

"I had no excuse for doing so."

"And you had an excuse for staying, eh?"

"Yes."

"Lord Cramer?"

"He begged me to stay. And, as I am going to marry him, I did what he desired, of course."

"Of course. And, of course, you will do what your father desires?"

"If Father is reasonable."

"The Fifth Command says you are to obey your father, and it does not make any exceptions as to whether he is reasonable or unreasonable."

"I intend to marry Richard, and no other man in all the wide world."

"You do not require to be so pointed about it. There is no one here wishes to prevent you."

"No one can prevent me, Aunt. I love Richard and he loves me. We fell in love with each other the moment we met."

"That is the right way. I like men that go over head and ears at first sight. Most take little careful steps, hesitating, fearing, one at a time. Cowardly lovers! No woman wants such. She just looks scornfully at them, and then turns her eyes toward something pleasanter."

All afternoon they talked on this and kindred subjects, and the time went so rapidly that the clock struck five before Mrs. Caird reflected that the Minister was two or three hours behind his usual time. What was keeping him? What was wrong? Then she began to worry about Donald; for, if anything usual becomes unusual, our first thought is not--what is right? or what is happy or profitable? but, always, what is wrong? And Mrs. Caird's anxieties drifted to the youth she loved so dearly.

"I wonder! I wonder whatever is wrong, Marion? Your father is always home by three, or at most four o'clock. I am feared something is wrong with Donald." And, in spite of Marion's optimistic persuasions, she was constantly asking her heart this woeful question. From the door to the gate she went with tiresome frequency, but it was after eight o'clock ere she saw two men walking leisurely toward the house. The twilight was over the earth, and nothing was very clear, but she knew them. Hurrying into the house she called to Marion in a voice of great pleasure and excitement:

"Your father is coming! And Donald is with him! And what can that mean?"

"Something good, Aunt."

But Mrs. Caird did not hear her. She was ordering this and that luxury, which she knew would be welcome to the belated travelers, and she had the natural wisdom and good-nature which never once asked, "What kept you so late?" She was satisfied with their presence, and with the fact that both were happy, and in the most affectionate mood with each other.

She placed Donald's chair beside her own and, when he touched her hand, or smiled in her face, or whispered, "Dear, dear Aunt!" she had a full payment for all her anxious hours about him.

It was not until Marion and Donald had gone to their rooms that the Minister felt inclined to explain his tardy return from the city. "I was afraid you would be anxious, Jessy," he said; and she answered, "Not about you, Ian. I knew you were all right, but I was feared about Donald. I thought something was wrong with him, and I could not fix on any particular danger. I thought of the trains and the sea, but someway they both a.s.sured my mind they were innocent of doing him any harm. The trouble was an unknown one. What was it, Ian?"

"Not much, Jessy. Donald has not been behaving himself after the ways and manners approved of by the Reids."

"I never yet heard any word of the Reids being set for our example. What way was Donald breaking their laws?"

"It seems, Jessy, that last Wednesday night there was some kind of civic anniversary--the Provost's birthday, or the birthday of some great man or other. I have totally forgotten the name or event. And serenading came into the thoughts of Donald and four others, and they lifted their violins and went together to the Provost's house. As it happened, he was eating a late supper after his speech in the City Hall, and the lads played and sang the songs in every Scotsman's heart. And there were three or four of his cronies with the Provost and, when the lads had sang twice over,

'Scots wha hae wi' Wallace bled,'