He was not so late the next morning.
Ere he had finished his breakfast he had made up his mind that he must beware of the earl. He was satisfied that the experiences of the past night could not be the consequence of one glass of wine. If he asked him again, he would go to dinner with him, but would drink nothing but water.
School was just over when Simmons came from his lordship, to inquire after him, and invite him to dine with him that evening. Donald immediately consented.
This time lady Arctura was not with the earl.
After as during dinner Donal declined to drink. His lordship cast on him a keen, searching glance, but it was only a glance, and took no farther notice of his refusal. The conversation, however, which had not been brilliant from the first, now sank and sank till it was not; and after a cup of coffee, his lordship, remarking that he was not feeling himself, begged Donal to excuse him, and proceeded to retire. Donal rose, and with a hope that his lordship would have a good night and feel better in the morning, left the room.
The passage outside was lighted only by a rather dim lamp, and in the distance Donal saw what he could but distinguish as the form of a woman, standing by the door which opened upon the great staircase.
He supposed it at first to be one of the maids; but the servants were so few compared with the size of the castle that one was seldom to be met on stair or in passage; and besides, the form stood as if waiting for some one! As he drew nearer, he saw it was lady Arctura, and would have passed with an obeisance. But ere he could lay his hand on the lock, hers was there to prevent him. He then saw that she was agitated, and that she had stopped him thus because her voice had at the moment failed her. The next moment, however, she recovered it, and her self-possession as well.
"Mr. Grant," she said, in a low voice, "I wish to speak to you--if you will allow me."
"I am at your service, my lady," answered Donal.
"But we cannot here! My uncle--"
"Shall we go into the picture-gallery?" suggested Donal; "there is moonlight there."
"No; that would be still nearer my uncle. His hearing is sometimes preternaturally keen; and besides, as you know, he often walks there after his evening meal. But--excuse me, Mr. Grant--you will understand me presently--are you--are you quite--?"
"You mean, my lady--am I quite myself this evening!" said Donal, wishing to help her with the embarrassing question: "--I have drunk nothing but water to-night."
With that she opened the door, and descended the stair, he following; but as soon as the curve of the staircase hid the door they had left, she stopped, and turning to him said, "I would not have you mistake me, Mr. Grant! I should be ashamed to speak to you if--"
"Indeed I am very sorry!" said Donal, "--though hardly so much to blame as I fear you think me."
"You mistake me at once! You suppose I imagine you took too much wine last night! It would be absurd. I saw what you took! But we must not talk here. Come."
She turned again, and going down, led the way to the housekeeper's room.
They found her at work with her needle.
"Mistress Brookes," said lady Arctura, "I want to have a little talk with Mr. Grant, and there is no fire in the library: may we sit here?"
"By all means! Sit doon, my lady! Why, bairn! you look as cold as if you had been on the roof! There! sit close to the fire; you're all trem'lin'!"
Lady Arctura obeyed like the child Mrs. Brookes called her, and sat down in the chair she gave up to her.
"I've something to see efter i' the still-room," said the housekeeper. "You sit here and hae yer crack. Sit doon, Mr. Grant.
I'm glad to see you an' my lady come to word o' mooth at last. I began to think it wud never be!"
Had Donal been in the way of looking to faces for the interpretation of words and thoughts, he would have seen a shadow sweep over lady Arctura's, followed by a flush, which he would have attributed to displeasure at this utterance of the housekeeper. But, with all his experience of the world within, and all his unusually developed power of entering into the feelings of others, he had never come to pry into those feelings, or to study their phenomena for the sake of possessing himself of them. Man was by no means an open book to him--"no, nor woman neither," but he would have scorned to supplement by such investigation what a lady chose to tell him. He sat looking into the fire, with an occasional upward glance, waiting for what was to come, and saw neither shadow nor flush. Lady Arctura sat also gazing into the fire, and seemed in no haste to begin.
"You are so good to Davie!" she said at length, and stopped.
"No better than I have to be," returned Donal. "Not to be good to Davie would be to be a wretch."
"You know, Mr. Grant, I cannot agree with you!"
"There is no immediate necessity, my lady."
"But I suppose one may be fair to another!" she went on, doubtingly, "--and it is only fair to confess that he is much more manageable since you came. Only that is no good if it does not come from the right source."
"Grapes do not come from thorns, my lady. We must not allow in evil a power of good."
She did not reply.
"He minds everything I say to him now," she resumed. "What is it makes him so good?--I wish I had had such a tutor!"
She stopped again: she had spoken out of the simplicity of her thought, but the words when said looked to her as if they ought not to have been said.
"Something is working in her!" thought Donal. "She is so different!
Her voice is different!"
"But that is not what I wanted to speak to you about, Mr. Grant," she re-commenced, "--though I did want you to know I was aware of the improvement in Davie. I wished to say something about my uncle."
Here followed another pause.
"You may have remarked," she said at length, "that, though we live together, and he is my guardian, and the head of the house, there is not much communication between us."
"I have gathered as much: I ask no questions, but I cannot tell Davie not to talk to me!"
