Janet's Love and Service Part 44

Graeme sank down with a cry, wringing her hands.

"Oh! Harry! Harry!"

Mr Ruthven made one step toward her.

"Miss Elliott, I dare not say to you that you think too severely of Harry's fault. But he is young, and I do not really fear for him. And you have more cause to be hopeful than I. Think of your father, and your father's G.o.d. Graeme, be sure Harry will come back to you again."

Graeme sat still with her head bowed down.

"Graeme--Miss Elliott. Tell me what you would have me do?"

Graeme rose.

"You are very kind," she repeated. "I cannot think to-night. We must wait--till Arthur comes home."

He went up and down the room several times, and then came and stood by her side again.

"Graeme," said he, in a low voice, "let me hear you once say, that you believe me to be your true and faithful friend."

"Why should I not say it, Allan. You are my true and faithful friend, as I am yours."

Her voice did not tremble, and for a moment she calmly met his eye. He turned and walked away, and when he came back again he held out his hand and said,--

"Good-night."

"Good-night," said Graeme.

"And you will see about Harry--what you wish for him?"

"Yes. Good-bye."

He raised the hand he held to his lips, and then said, "Good-bye."

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.

The next few days were weary ones to all. Will had reached that stage of convalescence in which it was not easy to resign himself to utter idleness, and yet he had not strength to be able to occupy himself long without fatigue; and in the effort to amuse and interest him, Graeme's spirits flagged sadly. She looked so exhausted and ill one day when the doctor came in, that he declared that Will must be left to the tender mercies of Rose, while her sister went first for a walk in the keen morning air, and then to her room for the rest of the day. It is possible that solitude and her own thoughts did Graeme less good than attendance on Will would have done, but doctors cannot be supposed to know everything; and even had he known all there was to account for her hot hands and pale cheeks, it is doubtful whether his skill could have suggested anything more to the purpose than his random prescription was.

At any rate, Graeme was thankful for a few days' quiet, whether it was good for her or not; and in the mean time Rose and Will got on very well without her.

And Harry--poor, unhappy, repentant Harry, trying under a mask of sullen indifference to hide the shame and misery he felt at the remembrance of that night--these were dreary days to him. Graeme never spoke to him about that night. She had not the courage, even if she had felt hot that it would be better not to do so. The preparations for his departure went on slowly, though it was becoming doubtful, whether he should go West after all. He said little about it himself, but that little it was not pleasant for Graeme to hear.

Much to the surprise of everyone, and to the extreme indignation of Harry, Mr Ruthven had again left town, saying nothing of his destination or the length of his stay, only in very brief fas.h.i.+on, telling him to make no further arrangements for his departure until his return.

"He does not trust me. He does not think me fit to take charge of his affairs," said Harry to himself, with his vague remembrance of Allan's share in the events of that miserable night, he could hardly wonder that it should be so, and in his shame and impatience he was twenty times on the point of breaking his connection with his employers, and going his own way. However, he forced himself to wait a little.

"If I am sent West after all, well and good. If not I shall remain no longer. The change of arrangements will be sufficient excuse, at least I will make it so. I can't stay, and I won't. If he would but come back and put an end to it all."

And Harry was not the only one who was impatient under the unreasonable absence of Mr Ruthven. Poor Mr Elphinstone, ill and irritable, suffered not an hour to pa.s.s without vexing himself and others, wondering at, and lamenting, his delay. Lilias had much ado to keep him from saying angry and bitter things about his nephew, and exaggerated the few details she had gathered with regard to their recent losses, in order to account to him for Allan's untimely devotion to business. Poor girl, she looked sad and ill in these days, and grew irritable and unreasonable amid the preparations of Mrs Roxbury, in a way that shocked and alarmed that excellent and energetic lady. She considered it a very equivocal proof of Lilias' love to her father, that she should be so averse to the carrying out of his express wishes. There had been nothing that is proper on such an occasion, and Mrs Roxbury seemed bent on fulfilling his wishes to the very letter. So, at last, Lilias was fain for the sake of peace to grow patient and grateful, and stayed more and more closely in her father's room, and her aunt had her will in all things that concerned the wedding, that under such melancholy circ.u.mstances was drawing near.

"Graeme," said Harry, one night, when they were sitting together after the rest had all gone up-stairs, "don't you think we have been uncomfortable long enough? Don't you think you have given us enough of that miserable, hopeless face for one occasion? I think a change would be agreeable to all concerned. It would to me, at any rate."

Graeme was so startled at this speech, that for a little she could not say a word. Then she said something about being tired and not very well--and about its being impossible always to help one's looks.

"Why don't you say at once that it is I who have made you so miserable that you have lost all faith in me--that I am going straight to ruin.

That is what you mean to say--you know very well."

"Harry," said she, gently, "I did not mean to say anything unkind."

Harry left his seat, and threw himself on the sofa with a groan.

"If you would only rate a fellow soundly, Graeme! If you would only tell me at once, what a weak, pitiful wretch you think me! I could bear that; but your silence and that miserable face, I cannot bear."

"I cannot say I think you weak or pitiful, Harry. It would not be true.

And I am afraid you would not like my rating better than my silence. I can only say, I have had less courage in thinking of your going away to fill an important and responsible situation, since that night."

Harry groaned.

"Oh! well; don't bother yourself about my going away, and my responsibilities. The chances are some one else will have to fill the important situation."

"Have you seen--has Mr Ruthven returned?"

"Mr Ruthven has returned, and I have seen him, but I have not spoken with him. It was not his will and pleasure to say anything to-night about that which has been keeping me in such miserable suspense. He was engaged, forsooth, when a moment would have settled it. Well, it does not matter. I shall take the decision into my own hands."

"What do you mean, Harry?"

"I mean, I shall give up my situation if he does not send me West--if he hesitates a moment about sending me, I shall leave his employment."

"But why, Harry?"

"Because--because I am determined. Ruthven does not think me fit to be entrusted with the management of his affairs, I suppose."

"Harry," said his sister, gravely, "is it surprising if he does not?"

"Well, if I am not to be trusted there, neither am I to be trusted here, and I leave. Graeme, you don't know what you are talking about. It is quite absurd to suppose that what happened that night would make any difference to Allan Ruthven. You think him a saint, but trust me, he knows by experience how to make allowance for that sort of thing. If he has nothing worse than that against any one in his employment, he may think himself fortunate."

"Then, why do you say he does not trust you?"

"I shall call it sufficient evidence that he does not, if he draws back in this. Not that I care much. I would rather be in the employment of some one else. I shall not stay here."

"Harry," said Graeme, coming quite close to the sofa on which he had thrown himself, "what has happened between you and Allan Ruthven."

"Happened! What should have happened? What an absurd question to ask, Graeme."

"Harry, why are you so determined to leave him? It was not so a little while ago."

"Was it not? Oh, well! I daresay not. But one wants a change. One gets tired of the same dull routine, always. Now, Graeme," added he, as she made an incredulous gesture, "don't begin to fancy any mystery.

That would be too absurd, you know."