Rose Galbraith (31 page)

“Oh, I've been reading all those little booklets that you sent me from your wonderful preacher, and I know a lot more than I used to know. From now on we'll be learning together, won't we? Perhaps we can coax your wonderful preacher to come over to the States and visit us next winter. We'll see what we can do. There are churches I know that ought to hear a message like that. I am just eager to hear him.”

Rose walked on in the shelter of Gordon's strong arm, thrilled with the thought of the companionship that was before her. She lifted her eyes to the stars and wondered if her mother knew her happiness, and was rejoicing, too.

At the foot of the mountain they found the cousins, drawn to one side of the road, waiting.

“We figured this was what you'd do,” said Donald, “so we left word with the hotel to tell you if you phoned that we would be here until we saw the lights go out, and then we would come back there and put up for the night. We kept watching the windows, and as no more light appeared in other windows, we decided you would not stay all night. Now how about it? Shall we drive back tonight, or stay at the hotel and start early in the morning?”

They decided for the latter, as Kirsty wanted to get something at a store, and the boys had an errand or two. That gave Gordon a chance to send his cables, one to his father and mother bidding them take the next boat, the other to the engraver at home with whom he had arranged for announcements of the wedding to be sent out from a list he had left with them.

So the two girls, both excited and happy, went to their room and talked half the night.

“How well we are all going to fit together!” sighed Kirsty with satisfaction. “Isn't he just grand? Oh, how I wish you were going to live in this country. It would be wonderful to have you all the time!”

“Yes,” said Rose, with shining eyes, “but we'll be coming over sometimes I expect, and you'll be coming to visit us.”

And then they launched into plans for the wedding.

They opened the big white box and peeped in at the lovely old wedding dress, waiting there all these years for the daughter of the girl for whom it had been made. Rose tried it on, and found that it fit her quite well.

Then they talked about what Kirsty would wear.

“You'll have to be my maid of honor, you know.” Rose said, smiling at her cousin.

“Oh!” said Kirsty with an angelic smile. “I never thought I'd be that. I ought to get a new dress. I'll have to, of course. I'd better look around tomorrow morning.”

“Oh, why bother, Kirsty dear? There'll be no strangers there but Gordon's father and mother, and they will understand you didn't have time to get ready a dress.”

“Yes, but mother has one,” said Kirsty. “It is only a plain cotton, with little pink sort of birds all over. It has fine little satin cords of white. It's sweet. I never thought of that. It wasn't her wedding dress, but it was a sort of party dress, and she's always kept it ever since because she thought it was so pretty. I think she has only worn it a few times, and it's quaint, made in old style.”

“That's just the thing,” said Rose. “We don't want newfangled things at this wedding. They wouldn't fit. Now, let's go to sleep. We've got a full day before us tomorrow.”

When they got home the next day they were full of plans, getting ready for the wedding. Even Aunt Rose's little boys were excited.

One of the first things Gordon and Rose did that afternoon was to go over to find the wonderful preacher and ask him if he would marry them. They were in a great hurry to do that because they didn't know just what they would do if it turned out to be one of the weeks when he was away preaching at conferences. They didn't know anybody else they wanted to ask. Though of course there were plenty of good ministers in that region, this one seemed to belong to them, because they had been talking over his sermons and his little books. They were greatly relieved when they found he was free on the day that they had arranged for the wedding, and was glad to come and perform the ceremony.

“So that's fixed!” said Gordon happily as they started back. “And now, I guess that's the last necessity, so we can begin to have a good time.”

“Oh, but I think it has all been a good time!” said Rose joyously. “Even the hard things like going to the castle turned out to be one of the best times of all. I really believe Aunt Janet liked it. She kissed me almost tenderly when we went away.”

“Yes,” said Gordon thoughtfully, “she got me to one side and asked for our new address. She said she wanted to send you a wedding present. And you know, I wouldn't be surprised at all if we were to see that poor old Uncle Robert come walking into heaven some day. I think he got a little glimpse last night of how to get there. I really do.”

“Oh, that would be the best thing of all!” said Rose. “And poor Aunt Janet! Mother loved her, you know, and I guess she wasn't always so cross.”

Then they went back to the house, which was already beginning to smell of spice and a lot of nice things that were being prepared for the wonderful fruit cake Aunt Jessie had in mind to make for the wedding.

“Only the wedding'll be far too soon for the guid o' the cake. By rights it shud bide a while an' mellow. But we'll have tae do the best we can.”

There were a few invitations to be written. The family had talked it over and decided on just a very few near relatives who would be hurt if they were not invited.

“Though they may na come,” said Aunt Jessie.

Then a very few close friends of the family. There was Donald's girl and Davie's girl and Kirsty's young man—not definitely hers, but he thought he was going to be. Kirsty wasn't sure yet.

“An' there's Lord an' Lady Cawmill,” reminded Grandmother proudly. “Ye'll nae forgit them! They'll na come, o' coorse, but they maun be invited!”

Rose wrote a sweet little note to Lord and Lady Campbell and another to Aunt Janet and Uncle Robert.

“She'll maybe show it or read it to Uncle Robert,” explained Rose to Kirsty, who was watching her.

Meantime, at the castle, exciting times had been going on. Lady Warloch had sent word to the best packer in the city to come over at once to pack a valuable picture and a fine piano and ship them to the United States. And he had arrived promptly.

She had also sent word to Lord MacCallummore that she thought it best he should give up any further search, at least for the present, for the papers he was so troubled to find. His presence in the house seemed to be sensed by the sick man, and it disturbed him greatly.

Lord MacCallummore came over at once and tried to make Lady Warloch see how wrong she was. He said he made no noise in his search. The very gentle tappings of the wall that he had been making could not possibly be heard through those thick castle walls, and she did not realize how important the matter was.

But Lady Warloch took him to a little room as far as possible removed from the main part of the castle and told him very firmly that it wasn't important at all. All that was important was to make Lord Warloch comfortable.

Lord MacCallummore was most insistent, finally owning that the matter was at least important to him, because the main thing he was hunting for was an agreement between himself and Lord Warloch, certain papers that should have been destroyed long ago, ones which he knew Lord Warloch intended to destroy, papers which referred to certain monies he had borrowed some years ago from Lord Warloch.

But Lady Warloch had been carefully thinking over what Rose had told her of the conversation she had overheard between the two lords, and now, putting them together with what she knew of her husband's miserly habits, had come to the conclusion that it was more than a mere paper Lord MacCallummore was searching for. She knew that it was her husband's habit to put away money in some hidden place in the castle. Lord MacCallummore perhaps suspected this and was trying to find it, thinking that she knew nothing of the matter. Therefore she was very firm.

“I do not wish any further searching for anything to go on in the castle while Lord Warloch is so critically ill,” she said firmly. “I am sorry to disappoint you, but you will have to abide by my decision. Thomas”—she spoke to the servant who was passing the door—“see that Lord MacCallummore's car is ready for him, and attend him to the door. I will let you know, Lord MacCallummore, if there is any further change in Lord Warloch's condition. I am expecting Lord Warloch's brother in a few minutes. I wish you good morning!” And she rose and watched him from the door. He was angry and puzzled, but she realized she had won.

So Lord MacCallummore went forth greatly disturbed in mind and wondering what had stirred up the lady. Wondering why the brother who had been alienated from the lord should have been allowed to come now. Concluding that if Sir Lester Warloch was to be there for any length of time perhaps it would be as well that he did not go for the present. Sir Lester and he had never gotten on well together, and Sir Lester was far too canny a man to be convenient to have around when one was searching for a miser's hoard, though he was sure no one but himself knew of its existence.

Lady Warloch went up to the sickroom and found the nurse writing a letter. “Has Lord MacCallummore gone yet?” she asked Lady Warloch as she came in. Lady Warloch went and stood at the foot of the bed and watched her husband's face as she spoke clearly.

“Lord MacCallummore will not be coming here anymore for a while,” she said. “I have sent him away. I did not think his continual presence was a good thing for my husband.”

And then she was amazed at the look of relief that seemed to come over the poor strained face there on the pillow. She had been right, then, when she thought he looked worried at the little sounds of tapping here and there that attended Lord MacCallummore's workings. But just to make sure, she sent the nurse on some trifling errand and then, looking straight at her husband, she said distinctly, “Robert, are you glad I have sent Lord MacCallummore away? If you are glad, close your eyes.”

The old eyes closed instantly. That was one thing she had discovered the man could do. His eyelids were not paralyzed.

“Now open them.”

The eyelids opened.

“All right, Robert. I won't let him come again. Not till you want him. Is that right?”

The eyes slowly closed again, and then opened.

“Well, it's a relief to know that, and that you can let me know what you want. Robert, we have talked together! Isn't that wonderful?”

A vague flickering of something like an attempt at a smile hovered over the lips that were locked in silence, like pale sunshine almost seen and then withdrawn.

So she went on.

“Robert, once several years ago you gave me a letter which you said I was to keep safely and not to open unless something happened to you. Do you remember that?”

The eyes closed quickly, and then opened again with an almost anxious expression in them.

“Well, Robert, is there any reason why you would like to open it now while you are still alive?”

The eyes closed again, and then slowly opened and watched her.

“Very well,” she said calmly. “I'll go and get it. Now you go to sleep. Don't fret!” And then she stooped and kissed him gently on his poor silent lips, a thing she had not done for many years.

She went and got the letter and read it. It was brief, but it sent her to a certain place for a certain key, that would unlock a certain panel in the wall behind a piece of furniture that she could easily move. A certain spot to press, and another panel swung open. At last an unexpected vault was revealed, large and roomy, and almost filled with wealth. Paper and silver and even gold in quantities!

Janet Warloch laid hold of the wall by which she stood and closed her eyes to steady the feeling that she was going to reel, and fall. She looked again, a breathtaking look, and then she turned away. She closed the panels one by one, locked the last one, and pushed back the piece of furniture. She placed everything as it had been, and then she went and put the letter away among her own private things where no one could ever find it, or would dream what it was if they did.

She found Lord Warloch sound asleep in the most restful sleep he had had since the stroke. Later, when he awoke, he found her sitting near him with her knitting and a pleasant look upon her face. He lay there a long time looking at her before she noticed he was awake, but when the nurse went out for a few minutes she came near and spoke to him.

“It's all there, I'm sure. Nothing has been disturbed. Now don't worry anymore.” And she laid her hand on his paralyzed one and pressed his softly.

Then she spoke again.

“Did you like the reading the other night when Rose Margaret was here?”

His eyes closed again and opened.

“That's nice,” she said, with a note in her voice that reminded him of her girlhood days. “Would you like me to read some more verses sometime?”

The answer came after a steady, questioning, almost wondering look.

“That will be nice. We'll read together every day.” Was she imagining the interest in his eyes, she wondered. She was silent for a time, knitting, and then she said, “I've sent for Lester, Robert. I thought it was time we both gave up hard feelings. He may be here today. Do you want to see him when he comes?”

Slowly Lord Warloch closed his eyes and opened them again, and the look in them was one of satisfaction. There was no longer distress in his face.

The nurse came back and Lady Warloch withdrew to get ready for her brother-in-law's coming and to prepare to read those verses that Rose had left for her. She was not accustomed to finding places in the Bible, but Rose had left her own large-print Testament that had also the Psalms bound with it. She had marked all the places with clearly written bits of paper, so her aunt found it was not going to be a hard thing to do after all.