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Updated: June 4, 2025
Airlie and the reverend gentleman sat talking: while mother and children warmed themselves with sense of duty in the cheerless kitchen. And often, as Mr. Airlie, who was of an inquiring turn of mind, had convinced himself, the only evening meal that resources would permit was the satisfying supper for one brought by the youngest daughter to her father where he sat alone in the small dining-room.
In fact it was only under long and heavy pressure, from circumstances as well as from Aunt Theresa, that he gave his consent to a plan which never quite met with his approval. Several things at this time seemed to conspire to effect it. The St. Quentins were going on long leave, and Miss Airlie would go with them. This was a heavy blow.
They went to the piano, where Lord Airlie awaited them; and Lillian, looking at her small, jeweled watch Lord Earle's present saw that it wanted three minutes to nine. She at once quitted the room, unobserved, as she thought; but Lionel saw her go. No words can tell how distasteful and repugnant was the task she had undertaken. She would have suffered anything almost to have evaded it.
Lady Helena hurried away to sit with Lillian. Lord Airlie had been smiling very happily over a mysterious little packet that had come by post. He asked Beatrice if she would go out with him he had something to show her. They went out into the park, intending to return in time for luncheon. The morning was bright and calm.
All those pleasant, happy days were over for him. The dinner party was over, and carriage after carriage rolled up to the Hall; the rooms began to fill; there was a faint sound of music, a murmur of conversation and laughter. "You have not forgotten your promise to me, Miss Earle?" said Lord Airlie. "I am to have the first dance and the last, certainly, and as many more as you can spare."
In various posts of command under Montrose were the aged Earl of Airlie, Viscount Aboyne, Colonel Nathaniel Gordon, Maclean of Duart, the chief of Clanranald, and MacColkittoch with his Irish.
So she sat in the evening gloaming, and Lord Airlie, listening to the superb voice, wondered at the pathos and sadness that seemed to ring in every note. "What weird music, Beatrice!" he said, at length. "You are singing of love, but the love is all sorrow. Your songs are generally so bright and happy. What has come over you?"
"Sooner than to any one else in the world," replied Ronald. "Is she willing?" "I think so," was the answer, Lord Airlie's heart thrilling with happiness as he remembered her words. "Let us see," said Lord Earle. He rang the bell, and sent for his daughter. Lord Airlie never forgot the beautiful, blushing face half turned from him as Beatrice entered the room.
"Oh, I am so sorry," she began, but Lillian interrupted her, she came close to her, and lowered her pale face over her sister's arm. "Beatrice," she said, slowly, "you must let me tell him. He cares for me. He loves me; I promised to be his wife, and I love him just as you do Lord Airlie." Under the shock of those words Beatrice Earle sat silent and motionless. "I love him," continued Lillian.
"Beatrice," said Lord Airlie, "you see the sun shining there in the high heavens. Three weeks ago I should have thought it easier for that same sun to fall than for me to win you. I can scarcely believe that my highest ideal of woman is realized. It was always my ambition to marry some young girl who had never loved any one before me. You never have.
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