An Orkney Maid Part 8

"A great lie is that! Conall Ragnor would not give Queen Victoria a party in Lent. Who told thee such foolishness?"

Then Sunna retailed the information given her and asked, "What hast thou done to Conall Ragnor? Always before he bid thee to dinner when the Bishop was at his house? Or perhaps the offence is with Rahal Ragnor? Not long ago thou spent an afternoon with her and black and dangerous as a thunder storm thou came home."

"This day the dinner was an accidental gathering. Rahal knows well that I have no will to dine with Mistress Brodie. Dost thou want her here, as thy stepmother?"

"If Mistress Brodie is not tired of an easy life, she will turn her feet away from this house. If Sunna cannot please thee, thou art in danger of worse happening. Yes, many are guessing who it is thou wilt marry."

"And which way runs the guessing?"

"Not all one way. For thee, that is not a respectable thing. Thou should not be named with so many old women."

"I am of thy opinion. An old woman is little to my mind. If I trust marriage again, I will choose a young girl for my wife--such an one as Treddie Fae, or Thora Ragnor."

"Thora Ragnor! Dreaming thou art! I am sure Barbara Brodie has brought this young man here for Thora's approval. Can thou stand against a young man?"

"Yes. Adam Vedder and fifty thousand pounds can hand any young man his hat and gloves. Thy father's father is not for thee to make a jest about. So here our talk shall come to an end on this subject. Go to thy bed! Sleep, and the Good Being bless thee!"

Sunna was not yet inclined to sleep. She sat down before her mirror, uncoiled her plentiful hair, and carefully brushed and braided it for the night, as she considered the news that had come to her.

"This beautiful young man, this singing man, is one of Barbara Brodie's 'finds.' Not much do I think of any of them! That handsome scholar she brought here turned out an unbearable enc.u.mbrance. I believe she paid him to go back to Edinburgh. That Aberdeen man, who wanted to invest money in Kirkwall had to borrow two pounds from grandfather to take him back to where he came from. That witty, good-looking Irishman left a big bill at the Castle Hotel for some one to pay; and the woman who wanted to begin a dressmaking business, on the good will of people like Barbara Brodie, knew nothing about dressmaking. This beautiful young man, I'll warrant, is a fish out of the same net. As for the Bishop being taken with his beauty, that is nothing! The poorer a man is, the better Bishop Hedley will like him.

So it goes! I wish I knew where Boris Ragnor is--I wish----

"Pshaw! I wonder what kind of a dress Mistress Barbara Brodie brought Thora. Not much taste in either men or clothes has she! Too large will the pattern be, or too strong the colours, and too heavy, or too light, will be the material. I know! And it will not fit her.

Too big, or too little it is sure to be! With my own dress I am satisfied. And if grandfather asks no questions about it, I shall count it a lucky dress and save it till Boris comes home. I am going to forgive him when he comes home--perhaps----Now I will put the hopes and worries of this world under my pillow and be off to the Land of Dreams----Tomorrow is Sunday, Easter Sunday--I shall sing the solo in my new dress--that is good, I like a religious feeling in a new dress--I think I am rather a religious girl."

Alas for the hopes of all who wanted to dress for Easter. It was an uncompromising, wet day. It was oil skin and rubber for the men; it was cloaks and pattens and umbrellas for the women. Yet, aside from the rain, it was a day full of good things. The cathedral was crowded, there was full cathedral service, and the Bishop preached a transfiguring sermon. The music was good, the home choir did well, and Sunna's solo was effectively sung; but after she had heard Ian Macrae's "Gloria," she was sorry she had sung at all.

"Grandfather!" she commented, "No private person has a right to sing as that man sings! After him, non-professionals make a show of themselves."

"Thou sang well--better than usual, I thought."

"I was told he was such a handsome young man! And he has black hair and black eyes! Even his skin is dark. He looks like a Celt. I don't like Celts. None of our people like them. When they come to the fis.h.i.+ng they are not respected."

"Thou art much mistaken. Our men like them."

"Boris Ragnor says they are poor traders."

"Well then, it is to fish they come."

"What they come for is no care of mine. Boris is ten times more of a man than the best of them. No notice shall I take of this Celt."

"Through thy scorn he may live, and even enjoy his life. The English officers do that."

"This chicken is better than might be. Wilt thou have a little more of it?"

"Enough is plenty. I have had enough. At Conall Ragnor's there is always good eating and I am going there for my supper. Wilt thou go with me? Then with Thora thou can talk. This beautiful young man is likely at Ragnor's. It was too stormy for Mistress Brodie to go to her own house at the noonday. Dost thou see then, how it will be?"

"I will go with thee, I want to see Thora's new dress. I need not notice the young man."

"His name? Already I have forgotten it."

"Odd was calling him 'Macrae.'"

"Macrae! That is Highland Scotch. The Macraes are a good family. There is a famous minister in Edinburgh of that name. The Calvinists all swear by him."

"This man sang in a full cathedral service. Dost thou believe a Calvinist would do that? He would be sure it was a disguised ma.s.s, and nothing better."

Adam laughed as he said, "Well, then, go with me this night to Ragnor's and between us we will find something out. A mystery is not pleasant to thee."

"There is something wrong in a mystery, that is what I feel."

"Thou can ask Thora all about him."

"I shall not ask her. She will tell me."

Adam laughed again. "That is the best way," he said. "It was thy father's way. Well then, five minutes ago, the wind changed. By four o'clock it will be fair."

"Then I will be ready to go with thee. If I am left alone, I am sad; and that is not good for my health."

"But thou must behave well, even to the Celt."

"Unless it is worth my while, I do not quarrel with any one."

"Was it worth thy while to quarrel with Boris Ragnor?"

"Yes--or I had not quarrelled with him."

"Here comes the suns.h.i.+ne! Gleam upon gloom! Cheery and good it is!"

"They say an Easter dress should be christened with a few drops of rain. That is not my opinion. I like the Easter suns.h.i.+ne on it. Now I shall leave thee and go and rest and dress myself. Very good is thy talk and thy company to me, but to thee, I am foolishness. As I shut the door, the big book thou art reading, thou wilt say to it: 'Now, friend of my soul, some sensible talk we will have together, for that foolish girl has gone to her foolishness at her looking gla.s.s.'"

"Run away! I am in a hurry for my big book."

Sunna shut the door with a kiss--and as she took the stairs with hurrying steps, the suns.h.i.+ne came dancing through the long window, and her feet trod on it and it fell all over her.

At four o'clock she was ready for her evening's inquest and she found her grandfather waiting for her. He had put on a light vest and a white tie, and he had that clean, healthy, good-tempered look that pleases all women. He smiled and bowed to Sunna and she deserved the compliment; for she was beautiful and had dressed her beauty most becomingly. Her gown was of Saxony cloth, the exact colour of her hair, with a collar, stomacher and high cuffs of pale green velvet.

The collar was tied with cord and small ta.s.sels of gold braid; the stomacher laced with gold braid over small gilt b.u.t.tons, and the high cuffs were trimmed to match. Very handsome gilt combs held up her rippled hair, and a large red-riding-hood cloak covered her from the crowning bow of her hair to the little French pattens that protected her black satin slippers. She expected to make a conquest, and her thoughts were usually the factors of success.

A little disappointment awaited her. She was usually shown into the right-hand parlour at once, and she relied on the bit of colour afforded by her scarlet cloak to give life to the modest shades of her spring colours of pale fawn and tender green. But servants were setting the dinner table in the right-hand parlour; and Conall and Rahal and Aunt Barbara had taken themselves to Conall's little business room where there was a bright fire burning. There, in his big chair, Conall was next door to sleeping; and Barbara and Rahal were talking in a sleepy, mysterious way about something that did not appear to interest them.

At the sound of Adam Vedder's voice, Conall became wide awake; and Barbara's face lighted up with a fresh interest. If there was nothing else, there was a chronic quarrel between them, which Barbara was ready to lift at a moment's notice. But Sunna was not dissatisfied.

Conall's quick look of admiration, and Rahal's and Barbara's glances of surprise, were excellent in their way. She knew she had given them a subject of interest sufficient to make even the hour before dinner appear short.

"Where is Thora?" she asked, as she turned every way, apparently to look for Thora, but really to allow her admirers to convince themselves that her dress was trimmed as handsomely at the back as the front--that if the stomacher was perfect in front, the sash of green velvet at the back was quite as stylish and elaborate.

"Where _is_ Thora?" she asked again.

"In the drawing room thou wilt find Thora with Ian Macrae," said Rahal. "Go to them. They will be glad of thy company."