"Yes," said Kate! "I do see! These people should be encouraged to make our timber for us that we may live in ease and luxury, and even to save us from fire and from blood-thirsty mobs, as occasions may offer, but as for friendships and that sort of thing--""Oh, Kate," burst in Maimie, almost in tears, "you are so very unkind. You know quite well what I mean.""Yes, I know quite well; you would not invite Ranald, for instance, to dine at your house, to meet your Aunt Frank and the Evanses and the Langfords and the Maitlands," said Kate, spacing her words with deliberate indignation.
"Well, I would not, if you put it in that way," said Maimie, petulantly, "and you wouldn't either!""I would ask him to meet every Maitland of them if I could," said Kate, "and it wouldn't hurt them either.""Oh, you are so peculiar," said Maimie, with a sigh of pity.
"Am I," said Kate; "ask Harry," she continued, as that young man came into the room.
"No, you needn't mind," said Maimie; "I know well he will just side with you. He always does.""How very amiable of me," said Harry; "but what's the particular issue?""Ranald," said Kate.
"Then I agree at once. Besides, he is coming to supper next Sunday evening!""Oh, Harry," exclaimed Maimie, in dismay, "on Sunday evening?""He can't get off any other night; works all night, I believe, and would work all Sunday, too, if his principles didn't mercifully interfere. He will be boss of the concern before summer is over.""Oh, Harry," said Maimie, in distress, "and I asked Lieutenant De Lacy and his friend, Mr. Sims, for Sunday evening--""Sims," cried Harry; "little cad!"
"I'm sure he's very nice," said Maimie, "and his family--""Oh, hold up; don't get on to your ancestor worship," cried Harry, impatiently. "Anyway, Ranald's coming up Sunday evening.""Well, it will be very awkward," said Maimie.
"I don't see why," said Kate.
"Oh," cried Harry, scornfully, "he will have on his red flannel shirt and a silk handkerchief, and his trousers will be in his boots; that's what Maimie is thinking of!""You are very rude, Harry," said Maimie. "You know quite well that Ranald will not enjoy himself with the others. He has nothing in common with them.""Oh, I wouldn't worry about that Maimie," said Kate; "I will talk to Ranald." But Maimie was not quite sure how she should like that.
"You are just your Aunt Frank over again," said Harry, in a disgusted tone; "clothes and people!"Maimie was almost in tears.
"I think you are both very unkind. You know Ranald won't enjoy it.
He will be quite miserable, and--they'll just laugh at him!""Well, they'd better laugh at him when he isn't observing," said Harry.
"Do you think Ranald would really mind?" interposed Kate, addressing Harry. "Do you think he will feel shy and awkward? Perhaps we'd better have him another evening.""No," said Harry, decidedly; "he is coming, and he's coming on Sunday evening. He can't get off any other night, and besides, I'd have to lie to him, and he has an unpleasant way of finding you out when you are doing it, and once he does find out why he is not asked for Sunday evening, then you may say good by to him for good and all.""Oh, no fear of that," said Maimie, confidently; "Ranald has good sense, and I know he will come again.""Well," cried Harry, "if you are not going to treat him as you would treat De Lacy and that idiotic Sims, I won't bring him!" And with that he flung out of the room.
But Harry changed his mind, for next Sunday evening as the young ladies with De Lacy and his friend were about to sit down to supper in their private parlor, Harry walked in with Ranald, and announced in triumph: "The man from Glengarry!" Maimie looked at him in dismay, and indeed she well might, for Ranald was dressed in his most gorgeous shanty array, with red flannel shirt and silk handkerchief, and trousers tucked into his boots. Sims gazed at him as if he were an apparition. It was Kate who first broke the silence.
"We are delighted to see you," she cried, going forward to Ranald with hands outstretched; "you are become quite a hero in this town.""Quite, I assure you," said the lieutenant, in a languid voice, but shaking Ranald heartily by the hand.
Then Maimie came forward and greeted him with ceremonious politeness and introduced him to Mr. Sims, who continued to gaze at the shantyman's attire with amused astonishment.
The supper was not a success; Ranald sat silent and solemn, eating little and smiling not at all, although Mr. Sims executed his very best jokes. Maimie was nervous and visibly distressed, and at the earliest possible moment broke up the supper party and engaged in conversation with the lieutenant and his witty friend, leaving Harry and Kate to entertain Ranald. But in spite of all they could do a solemn silence would now and then overtake the company, till at length Maimie grew desperate, and turning to Ranald, said:
"What are you thinking of? You are looking very serious?""He is 'thinking of home and mother,'" quoted Mr. Sims, in a thin, piping voice, following his quotation with a silly giggle.
Kate flushed indignantly. "I am quite sure his thoughts will bear telling," she said.
"I am sure they would," said Maimie, not knowing what to say.
"What were they, Ran--Mr. Macdonald?"
"I was thinking of you," said Ranald, gravely, looking straight at her.
"How lovely," murmured the lieutenant.
"And of your aunt, Mrs. Murray, and of what they would be doing this night--""And what would that be?" said Kate, coming to the relief of her friend. But Ranald was silent.
"I know," cried Harry. "Let's see, it is ten o'clock; they will all be sitting in the manse dining-room before the big fire; or, no, they will be in the parlor where the piano is, and John 'Aleck' will be there, and they will be singing"; and he went on to describe his last Sabbath evening, two years before, in the Glengarry manse. As he began to picture his aunt and her work, his enthusiasm carried him away, and made him eloquent.
