The Clever Woman of the Family

sadly, and with a flush of shame on his cheek. “I do not say that she says anything untrue, but the truth is not in her. She is one of those selfish people who are infinitely better liked than those five hundred times their worth, because they take care to be always pleased.”

“They give as much pleasure as they take.”

“Yes, they take everyone in. I wish to my heart I could be taken in too, but I have seen too much of her avoidance of every service to my uncle that she did not like. I verily believe, at this moment, that one great inducement with her is to elude the care of him.”

“Stern judgments, Alick. I know you would not speak thus without warrant; but take it into account that marriage makes many a girl’s selfishness dual, and at last drowns the self.”

“Yes, when it is a marriage of affection. But the truth must be told, Colonel. There was a trumpery idle fellow always loitering at Littleworthy, and playing croquet. I set my face against it with all my might, and she always laughed to scorn the notion that there was anything in it, nor do I believe that she has heart enough to wish to marry him. I could almost say I wish she had, but I never saw her show the same pleasure in anyone’s attentions, and I believe he is gone out to Rio in hopes of earning means to justify his addresses.”

Colonel Keith sat gravely considering what he knew would not be spoken lightly. “Do you mean that there was attachment enough to make it desirable that you should tell my brother?”

“No, I could say nothing that she could not instantly contradict with perfect truth, though not with perfect sincerity.”

“Let me ask you one question, Alick⁠—not a flattering one. May not some of these private impressions of yours have been coloured by your long illness?”

“That is what Bessie gives everyone to understand,” said Alick, calmly. “She is right, to a certain degree, that suffering sharpened my perceptions, and helplessness gave me time to draw conclusions. If I had been well, I might have been as much enchanted as other people; and if my uncle had not needed her care, and been neglected, I could have thought that I was rendered exacting by illness. But I imagine all I have said is not of the slightest use; only, if you think it right to tell your brother to talk to me, I would rather stand all the vituperation that would fall on me than allow this to take place.”

Colonel Keith walked up and down the room considering, whilst Alick sat in a dejected attitude, shading his face, and not uttering how very bitter it had been to him to make the accusation, nor how dear the sister really was.

“I see no purpose that would be answered,” said Colonel Keith, coming to a pause at last; “you have nothing tangible to mention, even as to the former affair that you suspect. I see a great deal in your view of her to make you uneasy, but nothing that would not be capable of explanation, above all to such a man as my brother. It would appear like mere malevolence.”

“Never mind what it would appear,” said Alick, who was evidently in such a ferment as his usually passive demeanour would have seemed incapable of.

“If the appearance would entirely baffle the purpose, it must be considered,” said the Colonel; “and in this case it could only lead to estrangement, which would be a lasting evil. I conclude that you have remonstrated with your sister.”

“As much as she gave me time for; but of course that is breath spent in vain.”

“Your uncle had the same means of judging as yourself.”

“No, Colonel, he could do nothing! In the first place, there can be no correspondence with him; and next, he is so devotedly fond of Bessie, that he would no more believe anything against her than Lady Temple would. I have tried that more than once.”

“Then, Alick, there is nothing for it but to let it take its course; and even upon your own view, your sister will be much safer married than single.”

“I had very little expectation of your saying anything else, but in common honesty I felt bound to let you know.”

“And now the best thing to be done is to forget all you have said.”

“Which you will do the more easily as you think it an amiable delusion of mine. Well, so much the better. I dare say you will never think otherwise, and I would willingly believe that my senses went after my fingers’ ends.”

The Colonel almost believed so himself. He was aware of the miserably sensitive condition of shattered nerve in which Alick had been sent home, and of the depression of spirits that had ensued on the news of his father’s death; and he thought it extremely probable that his weary hours and solicitude for his gay young sister might have made molehills into mountains, and that these now weighed on his memory and conscience. At least, this seemed the only way of accounting for an impression so contrary to that which Bessie Keith made on everyone else, and, by his own avowal, on the uncle whom he so much revered. Every other voice proclaimed her winning, amiable, obliging, considerate, and devoted to the service of her friends, with much drollery and shrewdness of perception, tempered by kindness of heart and unwillingness to give pain; and on that sore point of residence with the blind uncle, it was quite possibly a bit of Alick’s exaggerated feeling to imagine the arrangement so desirable⁠—the young lady might be the better judge.

On the whole, the expostulation left Colonel Keith more uncomfortable on Alick’s account than on that of his brother.

XVI

An Apparition

“And there will be auld Geordie Tanner,
Who coft a young wife wi’ his gowd.”

Joanna Baillie

“Mamma,” quoth Leoline,