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And a neat and pleasant place it looked when Jean and Marion went in that day. Into the pretty parlour the bride that was to be looked shyly, scarcely venturing to follow them.
It was Marion who displayed to Jean the various pretty and useful things already gathered.
On the mantel-piece was a handsome clock, and over it the picture of a s.h.i.+p with all her canvas spread, sailing over smooth seas, in the full light of the sun of an Arctic summer day. There was a low rocky sh.o.r.e in sight, and the gleam of icy peaks in the distance; but the s.h.i.+p with the suns.h.i.+ne on the spreading sails was the point of interest in the picture--and a pleasant picture it was for the eyes of a sailor's wife to rest upon. They were both Mr George Dawson's gift to the bride, Marion told Jean. Jean nodded and smiled.
"Yes, I know," said she.
"Miss Dawson," said Annie taking one step over the threshold where she had been standing all the time. "It is all your brother's work, and you must let me say to you what I canna say to him. Though he had done no more good in the world, it was worth his while to live, to help in the saving such a lad as Tam Saugster."
"They helped one another," said Jean softly.
"Ay. That I can easily believe. There are few men like Tam when ance ye ken him."
"And Jean thinks there are few like George," said Marion smiling, as they came away.
"And isna that what you think of your brother?" said Jean.
"Oh! yes; and with good reason," Marion said; and the rest of their talk was of their brothers, till they came to the gate of Saughleas.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.
A MEETING.
Mr Dawson and Miss Jean were sitting on the terrace by the parlour window as they went in. Jean knew by many signs that her father and Marion had come to be very good friends, and she was prepared to see him give her a warm and kindly welcome. But she was a little surprised at the ease and pleasure with which Marion met him. She did not turn away after a shy brief greeting, as the young people who came there were rather apt to do, but smiled brightly and answered merrily when he asked her whether she had enjoyed all that she had expected to enjoy when she came to Portie. And then she sat down on the gra.s.s at Miss Jean's feet, and looked round with a sigh of satisfaction at "the bonny place."
"What kept you on the way?" asked Miss Jean. "Oh! we came round by the sh.o.r.e," said her niece, "and we sat a while at the Tangle Stanes, and then we went in to see Mrs Cairnie--and by the by--we didna see her after all."
"She was sleeping," said Marion.
"And we were admiring the fine things that Captain Saugster has been gathering for his bride," said Jean.
"That would hardly have kept you long," said Mr Dawson. "A few chairs and a table, and a bed and blankets, and some dishes."
"But we saw more than that; didna we, Marion?"
"Yes. Even Annie herself wasna thinking of chairs and tables and dishes. It was of the new home that is to be there, we were thinking, and it never might have been, if--Jean, tell them what Annie said."
"Tell it yourself," said Jean.
"I canna just mind all," said Marion with hesitation. "But it was to Mr George Dawson that they owed it all--their happiness, I mean--and that it was a grand thing to have a hand in saving such a lad as Tam."
"She thinks muckle o' Tam, it seems," said Mr Dawson laughing. "And he is a good sailor, if he can only keep hold o' himsel' where the drink is concerned."
"His Master will keep hold of him, I trust," said Miss Jean.
"And is he to sail the 'John Seaton,' papa?" asked Jean.
"That is what George says. There is a risk, but we'll take it, and Tam will be none the less safe for the responsibility, let us hope."
"Annie is proud and glad, and so are all the Saugsters," said Marion.
"But the proudest and gladdest of all must be--George."
"Ay, even the angels are glad over a sinner repenting," said Miss Jean.
Mr Dawson looked from one to the other.
"Saved, is he! And George did it? But Tam has hardly been tried yet."
"Oh! yes. He is surely to be trusted now. Three whole years since he has touched a gla.s.s. Yes, nearly three years Annie told me once--and I think she wouldna be vexed at my telling you, because--George belongs to you," said Marion, turning a soft bright glance on Mr Dawson. She rose in her eagerness, and stood before them, and with softened voice and changing colour told the story of one dark night on board the "John Seaton," when some kind word of George's had touched a sore spot in poor Tam Saugster's remorseful heart, and had opened his lips to utter all his shame and sorrow over a life worse than wasted. The very first thought of hope that had come to Tam since Annie forsook him, came when George laughed at him for saying that his life was nearly over. He was but a lad yet, and his life was before him, and the way was to let the past be past, and begin again with better help than he had asked for yet. And Tam was not ashamed to say that his tears had fallen fast into the sea as he listened, and if he had been his own brother, George could not have been more patient with him, or have done more for him than he had done. "And I think," added Marion, turning her s.h.i.+ning eyes on the old man, "that George must be even happier than his friend."
She paused suddenly, turning a startled look to Miss Jean, who had gently touched her hand. Jean was looking at her father with a smile upon her lips, but he was looking away to the sea.
"Shouldna I have said it? Was it wrong? Tell me what you are thinking about, Miss Jean," said Marion in dismay.
"I'm thinking the wind has been making free with your hair, my la.s.sie, and it is near tea-time."
Jean kissed her laughing.
"Come with me and put your hair in order, as auntie says. No, never mind. There is nothing to look grave about. It was only that my aunt was surprised to hear any body say so many words to my father, and about George too. Oh! yes, he liked it, you may be sure. I'm glad that he heard it anyway."
"But I'm afraid that Miss Jean must have thought me--forward," said Marion, hesitating over the hateful word.
"Nonsense, you are not a child any longer. And she was as well pleased as I am that my father should hear it all."
It was Mr Dawson who broke the silence that fell on them when the girls went away.
"She is an outspoken la.s.sie yon."
"Ye canna judge her as ye might any o' the common sort," said Miss Jean shortly.
"I'm no' seeking to judge her. She seems a nice la.s.sie enough. I like her frank, free way."
"She's but a bairn--though she is the height of our Jean, and coming on to womanhood," said Miss Jean with a sigh.
"Ay. She is a weel grown la.s.sie," said Mr Dawson, rising, and then he went away and moved up and down the walks, pausing at shrub or tree, or flower bed, as his manner was when he was at leisure, and he only returned in time to give Miss Jean his arm when they were called into the house.
That evening they were so fortunate as to have the company of James Petrie and his sisters, and several other young people, among whom was Mr Charles Scott, to whom the eldest Miss Petrie was engaged. The young people enjoyed themselves, but Marion was not able to forget the touch of Miss Jean's fingers upon her arm, and she was rather grave and silent, the others thought. They had music, in which she took her part, singing a song or two, and then Miss Petrie played her masterpiece, a very grand piece indeed, in the midst of which Mr Dawson went out to the little gate to wait for his son.
He had gone there many times since that first night of his son's coming home. He did not always wait till he came in sight. He moved away sometimes, as his footsteps drew near, slow to acknowledge to himself, or to let his son see how much his home coming meant to him. But to-night he waited.
"There are young folk at the house to-night," said he, as though giving a reason for being in the garden at that hour.
"The Petries are there, and young Scott, who seems to be one of them.
And your aunt is over and her visitor. Will you go and see them?"
"Oh! yes, surely; only I would need to go upstairs first. Jamie Petrie!
What brings him here? I thought that was over," said George with a laugh.