The Twa Miss Dawsons Part 51

"They have all said that," said Mr Dawson to himself. Aloud he said with a dubious smile, "And ye'll promise no' to break your heart about him yet?" But his eyes softened wonderfully as he looked at her.

"Papa," said Jean laying her hand on his shoulder as she stood a little behind him, "we love one another dearly. And you ay liked Willie, papa, and so did--mamma."

"My dear, I like him well. But have you thought of all you will have to bear as a sailor's wife?--the anxiety and suspense, the long, long waiting, and--"

"But, papa, I should have that anyway. I _have_ had it, though--"

"My dear, ye little ken. And it might have been so different with you?"

"No, papa. It never could have been different. I wouldna have broken my heart, but I could never have cared for any one else."

A knock at the door prevented any thing more, and in answer to Mr Dawson's voice Captain Calderwood entered.

"I beg your pardon, Mr Dawson. I thought you were alone," said he in some embarra.s.sment.

"Come awa' in," said Mr Dawson. "I thought, my lad, there was nothing more to be said the nicht?"

"And so did I. And indeed there has been little said as yet."

Mr Dawson laughed uneasily. No one was less fitted to act the part of the mollified father at the last moment, and he felt quite as little at his ease as either of them. But he could not but look with pride and pleasure on the handsome pair.

"I doubt there is little more that need be said."

"Only a single word from you, sir. I know as well as you that I am not worthy of her, but man and boy I have loved her all my life."

Mr Dawson had risen and Jean's face was hidden on his shoulder. He raised her face and kissed her, saying softly,--

"I doubt the word is with Jean now."

It is possible that even now Mr Dawson might have resented a triumphant claiming of Jean on her lover's part. But he only smiled, well pleased when the young man bowed his handsome head and kissed her hand as if it had been the hand of a royal princess. And then he sent them away to be congratulated by Aunt Jean and the rest.

"And if they are any of them more surprised at my consent than I am myself, it will be strange," said he to himself as he sat down again, not sure even yet that he was not displeased, or at least disappointed still. But by the time he heard the slow unequal steps of his sister coming, as was her custom when any thing more than usual was going on, for a word or two with him before she went to her bed, he was able to receive her softly spoken congratulations cheerfully enough.

She did not use many words; for she had an intuitive knowledge that some of her brother's thoughts about this matter had better not be uttered.

But there was no mistaking the grave gladness of her face, and it came into her brother's mind that his sister's thoughts about most things were such as usually commended themselves to him in the end.

As for the others to whom Captain Calderwood after a little conducted his promised wife, none of them except Marion confessed to surprise, and none of them seemed to share the old man's doubt as to whether it was matter for rejoicing or no. Jean's first glance at Mrs Calderwood was a little wistful and beseeching, as though she were not quite sure of a daughter's welcome. But two or three low spoken words set that at rest forever. Captain Calderwood's doubtful looks were cast on Miss Jean.

"I ken weel I'm no worthy of her, auntie," he said.

"Ah! weel!--if she thinks it--that is the main thing," said Miss Jean.

"My friend, and twice my brother," was all George said to him. And to Jean he said softly, "Happy woman?" and that was all.

Not a soul in Portie but had something to say about them on the occasion. Every body was surprised at the first announcement of the news, though afterwards there were two or three who had had, they said, an inkling of it all along. There was a whisper among the fine folk in the High-street which implied that Miss Dawson might have laid herself open to the suspicion of having "pa.s.sed through the wood to find a crooked stick at the last." But even in the High-street no one ventured to say it aloud. For the handsome sailor, though he was not a rich man, was as good as the best of them, even in their own partial opinion.

It was a grand ending to Captain Calderwood's romance of the sea in the opinion of all the seafaring folk of the town. The hand of the best and bonniest la.s.s in Portie was a suitable reward for the hero. And when it was whispered that they "had ay cared for one another since they were bairns together" the tokens of the general approbation were given with enthusiasm.

"And that is an end o' the twa Miss Jeans. But it's o' George Dawson himsel' that I'm ay thinkin'," said Mrs Cairnie to all who would listen to her. "As for auld Miss Jean--her consent was what ye would expect.

She was ay soft-hearted, and she has had an experience o' her ain. But as for auld George!--"

But even Mrs Cairnie owned that if he was not satisfied with the prospects of his daughter, "ye wouldna ken it by him." And Mr James Petrie, who watched him closely, and had better opportunities, said the same, and so did Portie generally.

One token of his satisfaction was of a kind that all Portie could appreciate, though those chiefly concerned would gladly have dispensed with it. He insisted on a grand wedding, and as Captain Calderwood's time was limited, the wedding had to be hastened, and there was some dismay at Saughleas at the thought of it. But May, who agreed with her father heartily on this point, came down, and took the matter into her own hands, and distinguished herself on the occasion.

It was a grand wedding. There were many guests and many gifts, and it must be confessed many opinions entertained, though not expressed, as to the wisdom of the marriage. But no one ventured to hint that the wedding itself was not a splendid success.

Strangely enough, Sir Percy Harefield was there and his sister. They were visitors at Blackford again. Mrs Eastwood looked with silent and rather scornful amazement on the girl who had slighted all that her brother had to offer, and who was now giving herself to this--sailor.

Even Mrs Eastwood could not look at Captain Calderwood on his wedding morning and join any contemptuous term to his name. He was like a young sea king among them all, she acknowledged; and he was a hero, it seemed, to these quaint northern folk that made his world. With a dim remembrance of her own youthful dreams, she acknowledged that perhaps, after all, Miss Dawson's choice was not so surprising; and even her love and admiration for her brother could not make her blind to the contrast which the two men made. But she was scornful of Jean's choice all the same.

Sir Percy was scornful of no one, but friendly and admiring, though a little heavy and dull, among so many gay folk. But he presented the bride with an elegant bracelet and bore no malice. He offered his congratulations to both bridegroom and bride with sufficient heartiness, and not even his sister could tell whether any painful sense of regret touched his heart that day.

One good thing came out of the grand wedding. There were guests from far and near, and among the rest--as one of the bridesmaids--came pretty Emily Corbett. Not the slip of a la.s.sie who had clambered over the rocks and run about the sands with her little brother and sister and the rest of the bairns that happy summer long ago, but a stately young Englishwoman, tall and fair and wise.

In her presence Mr James Petrie forgot several things, and among the rest, his father's pawky hints about Miss Langrigs and her tocher, which were to be had for the asking, as he thought. And despite many prophecies to the contrary, James married for love a portionless bride, and was made a man of by the doing it.

The "young sea king" and his bride had a few days among the Highland hills, and a few days more among the English lakes. But the real "wedding journey" was made in the "Ben Nevis." They sailed away together into a new summer beneath Southern skies, and Jean got a glimpse of a new world full of wonders to her untravelled eyes.

Happily both voyages were as peaceful and pleasant as the last had been tempestuous, and nothing happened to darken a single hour of that happy time. Through the quiet of the soft sunny days, and the glory of nights made beautiful by the light of unfamiliar stars, these two young people, who had been for the last five years almost as strangers to each other, renewed their acquaintance, and indeed grew into a truer and deeper knowledge of each other than years of common life might have brought them, and before the happy outward voyage was over, there mingled with Jean's love for her husband the reverence which no true heart can withhold from the man "who is good before G.o.d."

It was not a full experience of sea life which his wife had got, Captain Calderwood owned, but this was less to be regretted, that she looked forward to many another voyage in the years that were before them. In the mean time she came home to her own house in the High-street where Miss Jean and Mrs Calderwood had been living together all this time.

It was her home and theirs for many a happy year, and other homes in Portie were made happier through the happiness of theirs.

Jean had much work laid to her hand in her own home as the years went on, and she found also something to do beyond it. She was her father's almoner to many a widow and orphan child in Portie; and she helped her brother with higher work than her father's almsgiving.

Through her Miss Jean enjoyed in her last days, that which had made the happiness of her life for many years--the ministry of love to the "stranger," the "naked," the "sick, and in prison," for His sake who said, "Inasmuch as ye did it to the least of these, ye did it unto me."

And her experience as a sailor's wife and the mother of children, did not make her less fit for this work, but more. It made her wise to understand, and strong to help other sailors' wives in their time of need, and firm as well as tender in her dealings with many a child whom the cruel sea made fatherless.

And to many "puir auld bodies," who had forgotten the events of yesterday, and last year, and of many a long year besides; and had come in their second childhood to live over the days of their youth again, the help and comfort which made their days of waiting a quiet rest, before the last "flitting," still came to their belief as help and comfort used to come through "The Twa Miss Jeans."

The End.