"Doubtful is their gladness. Two are company, three are a crowd. Yet so it is! I must run into danger, like the rest of women."
"Is that thy Easter gown, Sunna?" asked Mistress Brodie.
"It is. Dost thou like it?"
"Who would not like it? The rumour goes abroad that thy grandfather sent to Inverness for it. Others say it came to thee from Edinburgh."
"Wrong are both stories. I am happy to say that Sunna Vedder gave herself a dress so pretty and so suitable."
With these smiling words she left the room and the elder women shrugged their shoulders and looked expressively at each other. "What can a sensible man like Boris Ragnor see in such a harum-scarum girl!"
was Rahal Ragnor"s question, and Barbara Brodie thought it was all Adam Vedder"s fault. "He ought to have married some sensible woman who would have brought up the girl as girls ought to be brought up," she answered; adding, "We may as well remember that the management of women, at any age, is a business clean beyond Adam Vedder"s capabilities."
"Adam is a clever man, Barbie."
"Book clever! What is the use of book wisdom when you have a live girl, full of her own way, to deal with?"
"Conall chose the husbands for his daughters. They were quite suitable to the girls and they have been very happy with them."
"Thora will choose for herself."
"Perhaps, that may be so. Thora has been spoiled. Her marriage need not yet be thought of. In two or three years, we will consider it. The little one has not yet any dreams of that kind."
"Such dreams come in a moment--when you are not thinking of them."
In fact, at that very moment Thora was learning the mystery of "falling in love"; and there is hardly a more vital thing in life than this act. For it is something taking place in the subconscious self; it is a revolution, and a growth. It happened that after dinner, Conall wished to hear Ian sing again that loveliest of all metrical Collects, "Lord of All Power and Might," and Thora went with Ian to do her part as accompanist on the piano. As they sang Conall appeared to fall asleep, and no more music was asked for.
Then Ian lifted a book full of ill.u.s.trations of the English lake district, and they sat down on the sofa to examine it. Ian had once been at Keswick and Ambleside, and he began to tell her about Lake Windemere and these lovely villages. He was holding Thora"s hand and glancing constantly into her face, and before he recognised what he was saying, Ambleside and Windemere were quite forgotten, and he was telling Thora that he loved her with an everlasting love. He vowed that he had loved her in his past lives, and would love her, and only her, forever. And he looked so handsome and spoke in words of the sweetest tenderness, and indeed was amazed at his own pa.s.sionate eloquence, but knew in his soul that every word he said was true.
And Thora, the innocent little one, was equally sure of his truth. She blushed and listened, while he drew her closer to his side calling her "his own, his very own!" and begging her to promise that she would "marry him, and no other man, in the whole earth."
And Thora promised him what he wished and for one-half hour they were in Paradise.
Now, how could this love affair have come to perfection so rapidly?
Because it was the natural and the proper way. True love dates its birth from the first glance. It is the coming together of two souls, and in their first contact love flashes forth like flame. And then their influence over each other is like that gravitation which one star exerts over another star.
But much that pa.s.ses for love is not love. It is only a prepossession, pleasant and profitable, promising many every-day advantages. True love is a deep and elemental thing, a secret incredible glory, in a way, it is even a spiritual triumph. And we should have another name for love like this. For it is the long, long love, that has followed us through ages, the healing love, the Comforter! In the soul of a young, innocent girl like Thora, it is a kind of piety, and ought to be taken with a wondering thankfulness.
An emotion so spiritual and profound was beyond Sunna"s understanding.
She divined that there had been some sort of love-making, but she was unfamiliar with its present indications. Her opinion, however, was that Ian had offered himself to Thora, and been rejected; in no other way could she account for the far-offness of both parties. Thora indeed was inexplicable. She not only refused to show Sunna her Easter dress, she would not enter into any description of it.
"That is a very remarkable thing," she said to her grandfather, as they walked home together. "I think the young man made love to Thora and even asked her to marry him, and Thora was frightened and said "No!" and she is likely sorry now that she did not say "Yes.""
"To say "No!" would not have frightened thee, I suppose?"
"That is one of the disagreeable things women have to get used to."
"How often must a woman say "No!" in order to get used to it?"
"That depends on several small things; for instance I am very sympathetic. I have a tender heart! Yes, and so I suffer."
"I am glad to know of thy sympathy. If I asked thee to marry a young man whom I wished thee to marry, would thou do it--just to please me?"
"It would depend--on my mood that day."
"Say, it was thy sympathetic mood?"
"That would be unfavourable. Of the others I should think, and I should feel that I was cruel; if I took all hope from them."
"Thou wilt not be reasonable. I am not joking. Would thou marry Boris to please me?"
"Boris has offended me. He must come to me, and say, "I am sorry." He must take what punishment I choose for his rudeness to me. Then, I may forgive him."
"And marry him?"
"Only my angel knows, if it is so written. Men do not like to do as their women say they must do. Is there any man in the Orcades who dares to say "No," to his wife"s "Yes?""
"What of Sandy Stark?"
"Sandy is a Scot! I do not use a Scotch measure for a Norseman. Thou art not a perfect Norseman, but yet, even in Edinburgh, there is no Scot that could be thy measure. I should have to say--"thou art five inches taller than the Scot at thy side, and forty pounds heavier, and nearly twice as strong." That would not be correct to an ounce, but it is as near as it is possible to come between Norse and Scot."
"Thou art romancing!"
"As for the Norse women----"
"About Norse women there is no need for thee to teach thy grandfather.
I know what Norse women are like. If I did not know, I should have married again."
"Well then, Barbara Brodie is a good specimen of a capable Norse woman and I have noticed one thing about them, that I feel ought to be better understood."
"Chut! What hast thou understood? Talk about it, and let thy wisdom be known."
"Well then, it is this thing--Norse women always outlive their husbands. Thou may count by tens and hundreds the widows in this town.
The "maidens of blushing fifteen" have no opportunities; the widow of fifty asks a young man into her beautiful home and makes him acquainted with the burden of her rents and dividends and her share in half a dozen trading boats, and he takes to the golden lure and marries himself like the rest of the world. Thou would have been re-married long ago but for my protection. I have had a very disagreeable day and----"
"Then go to thy bed and put an end to it."
"My new dress is crushed and some way or other I have got a spot on the front breadth. Is it that Darwin book thou art looking for?"
"Yes."
"Would thou like to read a chapter to me?"
"No, I would not."
"Grandfather, I can understand it. I like clever men. Can thou introduce me to him--to Darwin?"
"He would not care to see thee. Clever men do not want clever wives; so if thou art thinking of a clever husband keep thy "blue stockings"
well under thy petticoats."