Janet's Love and Service Part 5

Graeme writes often, and daily bewails Janet's continued illness, and rejoices over "wee Rosie's" improved health and temper. With her account of the boys and their doings, she mingles emphatic wishes "that they had more sense," but on the whole they are satisfactory. She has much to say of the books she has been reading--"a good many of Sir Walter Scott's that papa does not object to," lent by Allan Ruthven.

There are hints of discussions with him about the books, too; and Graeme declares she "has no patience" with Allan. For his favourites in Sir Walter's books are seldom those who are persecuted for righteousness'

sake; and there are allusions to battles fought with him in behalf of the good name of the Old Puritans--men whom Graeme delights to honour.

But on the whole it is to be seen, that Allan is a favourite with her and with them all.

The beautiful Bay of Boston was reached at last, and with an interest that cannot be told, the little party--including the restored Janet-- regarded the city to which they were drawing near. Their ideas of what they were to see first in the new world had been rather indefinite and vague. Far more familiar with the early history of New England--with such scenes as the landing of the pilgrims, and the departure of Roger Williams to a still more distant wilderness, than with the history of modern advance, it was certainly not such a city they had expected to see. But they gazed with ever increasing delight, as they drew nearer and nearer to it through the beautiful bay.

"And this is the wonderful new world, that promises so much to us all,"

said Allan.

"They have left unstained what there they found.

Freedom to wors.h.i.+p G.o.d,"

murmured Graeme, softly. "I'm sure I shall like the American people."

But Allan was taking to heart the thought of parting from them all, more than was at all reasonable, he said to himself, and he could not answer her with a jest as he might at another time.

"You must write and tell me about your new home," said he.

"Yes--the boys will write; we will all write. I can hardly believe that six weeks ago we had never seen you. Oh! I wish you were going with us," said Graeme.

"Allan will see Arthur when he comes. Arthur will want to see all the country," said Norman.

"And maybe he will like the Queen's dominions best, and wish to settle there," said Allan.

"Oh! but we shall see you long before Arthur comes," said Graeme. "Is it very far to Canada?"

"I don't know--not very far, I suppose. I don't feel half so hopeful now that I am about to know what my fate is to be. I have a great dread on me. I have a mind not to go to my uncle at all, but seek my fortune here."

"But your mother wouldna be pleased," said Graeme, gravely.

"No. She has great hopes of what my uncle may do for me. But it would be more agreeable to me not to be confined to one course. I should like to look about me a little, before I get fairly into the treadmill of business."

In her heart Graeme thought it an excellent thing for Allan that he had his uncle to go to. She had her own ideas about young people's looking about them, with nothing particular to do, and quite agreed with Janet and Dr Watts as to the work likely to be found for them to do. But she thought it would be very nice for them all, if instead of setting off at once for Canada, Allan might have gone with them for a little while.

Before she could say this, however, Janet spoke.

"Ay, that's bairn-like, though you hae a man's stature. I dare say you would think it a braw thing to be at naebody's bidding; but, my lad, it's ae' thing to hae a friend's house, and a welcome waiting you in a strange land like this, and it's anither thing to sit solitary in a bare lodging, even though you may hae liberty to come and go at your ain will. If you're like the lads that I ken' maist about, you'll be none the worse of a little wholesome restraint. Be thankful for your mercies."

Allan laughed good-humouredly.

"But really, Mrs Nasmyth, you are too hard on me. Just think what a country this is. Think of the mountains, and rivers and lakes, and of all these wonderful forests and prairies that Norman reads about, and is it strange that I should grudge myself to a dull counting-room, with all these things to enjoy? It is not the thought of the restraint that troubles me. I only fear I shall become too soon content with the routine, till I forget how to enjoy anything but the making and counting of money. I am sure anything would be better than to come to that."

"You'll hae many things between you and the like o' that, if you do your duty. You have them you are going to, and them you hae left--your mother and brother. And though you had none o' them, you could aye find some poor body to be kind to, to keep your heart soft. Are you to bide in your uncle's house?"

"I don't know. Mrs Peter Stone, that was home last year, told us that my uncle lives in the country, and his clerks live in the town anywhere they like. I shall do as the rest do I suppose. All the better--I shall be the more able to do what I like with my leisure."

"Ay, it's aye liberty that the like o' you delight in. Weel, see that you make a good use of it, that's the chief thing. Read your Bible and gang to the kirk, and there's no fear o' you. And dinna forget to write to your mother. She's had many a weary thought about you 'ere this time, I'll warrant."

"I daresay I shall be content enough. But it seems like parting from home again, to think of leaving you all. My bonnie wee Rosie, what shall I ever do without you?" said Allan, caressing the little one who had clambered on his knee.

"And what shall we do without you?" exclaimed a chorus of voices; and Norman added,--

"What is the use of your going all the way to Canada, when there's enough for you to do here. Come with us, Allan, man, and never mind your uncle."

"And what will you do for him, in case he should give his uncle up for you?" demanded Janet, sharply.

"Oh! he'll get just what we'll get ourselves, a chance to make his own way, and I doubt whether he'll get more where he's going. I've no faith in rich uncles." Allan laughed.

"Thank you, Norman, lad. I must go to Canada first, however, whether I stay there or not. Maybe you will see me again, sooner than I think now. Surely, in the great town before us, there might be found work, and a place for me."

Far-away before them, stretched the twinkling lights of the town, and silence fell upon them as they watched them. In another day they would be among the thousands who lived, and laboured, and suffered in it.

What awaited them there? Not that they feared the future, or doubted a welcome. Indeed, they were too young to think much of possible evils.

A new life was opening before them, no fear but it would be a happy one.

Graeme had seen more trouble than the rest, being older, and she was naturally less hopeful, but then she had no fear for them all, only the thought that they were about to enter on a new, untried life, made her excited and anxious, and the thought of parting with their friend made her sad.

As for Janet, she was herself again. Her courage returned when the sea-sickness departed, and now she was ready "to put a stout heart to a stiff brae" as of old. "Disjaskit looking" she was, and not so strong as she used to be, but she was as active as ever, and more than thankful to be able to keep her feet again. "She had been busy all the morning,"

overhauling the belongings of the family, preparatory to landing, much to the discomfort of all concerned. All the morning Graeme had submitted with a pa.s.sably good grace to her cross-questionings as to the "guiding" of this and that, while she had been unable to give personal supervision to family matters. Thankful to see her at her post again, Graeme tried to make apparent her own good management of matters in general, during the voyage, but she was only partially successful.

There were far more rents and stains, and soiled garments, than Janet considered at all necessary, and besides many familiar articles of wearing apparel were missing, after due search made. In vain Graeme begged her never to mind just now. They were in the big blue chest, or the little brown one, she couldna just mind where she had put them, but of course they would be found, when all the boxes were opened.

"Maybe no," said Janet. "There are some long fingers, I doubt, in the steerage yonder. Miss Graeme, my dear, we would need to be carefu'. If I'm no' mistaken, I saw one o' Norman's spotted handkerchiefs about the neck o' yon lang Johnny Heeman, and yon little Irish la.s.sie ga'ed past me the day, with a pinafore very like one o' Menie's. I maun ha' a look at it again."

"Oh, Janet! never mind. I gave wee Norah the pinafore, and the old brown frock besides. She had much need of them. And poor Johnny came on board on the pilot boat you ken, and he hadna a change, and Norman gave him the handkerchief and an old waistcoat of papa's,--and--"

Janet's hands were uplifted in consternation.

"Keep's and guide's la.s.sie--that I should say such a word. Your papa hadna an old waistcoat in his possession. What for did you do the like o' that? The like o' Norman or Menie might be excused, but you that I thought had some sense and discretion. Your father's waistcoat! Heard anybody ever the like? You may be thankful that you hae somebody that kens the value of good clothes, to take care of you and them--"

"Oh! I'm thankful as you could wish," said Graeme, laughing. "I would rather see you sitting there, in the midst of those clothes, than to see the Queen on her throne. I confess to the waistcoat, and some other things, but mind, I'm responsible no longer. I resign my office of general caretaker to you. Success to you," and Graeme made for the cabin stairs. She turned again, however.

"Never heed, Janet, about the things. Think what it must be to have no change, and we had so many. Poor wee Norah, too. Her mother's dead you ken, and she looked so miserable."

Janet was pacified.

"Weel, Miss Graeme, I'll no' heed. But my dear, it's no' like we'll find good clothes growing upon trees in this land, more than in our own.

And we had need to be careful. I wonder where a' the strippet pillow slips can be? I see far more of the fine ones dirty than were needed, if you had been careful, and guarded them."

But Graeme was out of hearing before she came to this.

They landed at last, and a very dreary landing it was. They had waited for hours, till the clouds should exhaust themselves, but the rain was still falling when they left the s.h.i.+p. Eager and excited, the whole party were, but not after the antic.i.p.ated fas.h.i.+on. Graeme was surprised, and a little mortified, to find no particular emotions swelling at her heart, as her feet touched the soil which the Puritans had rendered sacred. Indeed, she was too painfully conscious, that the sacred soil was putting her shoes and frock in jeopardy, and had too much trouble to keep the umbrella over Marian and herself, to be able to give any thanks to the sufferings of the Pilgrim fathers, or mothers either. Mr Elliott had been on sh.o.r.e in the morning, and had engaged rooms for them in a quiet street, and thither Allan Ruthven, carrying little Rose, was to conduct them, while he attended to the proper bestowment of their baggage.

This duty Janet fain would have shared with him. Her reverence for the minister, and his many excellencies, did not imply entire confidence in his capacity, for that sort of business, and when he directed her to go with the bairns, it was with many misgivings that she obeyed. Indeed, as the loaded cart took its departure in another direction, she expressed herself morally certain, that they had seen the last of it, for she fully believed that, "yon sharp-looking lad could carry it off from beneath the minister's nose."

Dread of more distant evils was, however, driven from her thoughts by present necessities. The din and bustle of the crowded wharf, would have been sufficient to "daze" the sober-minded country-woman, without the charge of little Will, and unnumbered bundles, and the two "daft laddies forby." On their part, Norman and Harry scorned the idea of being taken care of, and loaded with baskets and other movables, made their way through the crowd, in a manner that astonished the bewildered Janet.

"Bide a wee, Norman, man. Harry, you daft laddie, where are you going?

Now dinna throw awa' good pennies for such green trash." For Harry had made a descent on a fruit stall, and his pockets were turned inside out in a twinkling.

"Saw ever anybody such cheatry," exclaimed Janet, as the dark lady pocketed the coins with a grin, quite unmindful of her expostulations.

"Harry lad, a fool and his money is soon parted. And look! see here, you hae set down the basket in the dubs, and your sister's bed gowns will be all wet. Man! hae you no sense?"