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Mac-Morlan perused it with eyes that sparkled with delight, snapped his fingers repeatedly, and at length exclaimed, 'Available! it's as tight as a glove; naebody could make better wark than Glossin, when he didna let down a steek on purpose. 'Ah! And how shall we know whether she has done so? 'Somebody must attend on Miss Bertram's part when the repositories of the deceased are opened.
Norris wanted to persuade her that Fanny could be very well spared she being ready to give up all her own time to her as requested and, in short, could not really be wanted or missed. "That may be, sister," was all Lady Bertram's reply. "I dare say you are very right; but I am sure I shall miss her very much." The next step was to communicate with Portsmouth.
The Colonel, indeed, reflected that this might be a most important crisis for Miss Bertram's interest, and resolved that his strong inclination to throw Glossin out at window or at door should not interfere with it. He put a strong curb on his temper, and resolved to listen with patience at least, if without complacency. He therefore let Mr.
Bertram's story, being confined to the accident of Hazlewood, and the confusion made between his own identity and that of one of the smugglers who had been active in the assault of Woodbourne, and chanced to bear the same name, was soon told. Dinmont listened very attentively.
At this period he was, or professed to be, very much guided in his public life by Mr. Bertram's opinion. And thus he fell in with Caroline.
She went down to the stateroom to " This time it was Billy who stopped abruptly. The two men facing her could not see what she saw, and not until their brother Bertram's merry greeting fell on their ears did they understand her sudden silence. "And is this the way you meant to run away from us, young lady?" cried Bertram. "Not so fast!
Bertram saw him for a few moments alone; then he went into Mrs. Bertram's room. He stayed with her for some hours; it was long past midnight when he left her. Catherine and Mabel had gone to bed, but Bertram met the Rector outside his mother's door. "Come home with me," said Mr. Ingram; "I have a message to give you. I have something to say." "How is my mother, sir?"
Blake showed no awkwardness. Indeed, on the whole, he looked amused; but his face grew graver as he fixed his eyes on Mrs. Challoner. "Though I'm rather late, you'll let me wish you happiness," he said. "I believe it will be yours. Bertram's a good fellow; I have much to thank him for." There was a sincerity and a hint of affection in his tone, and Bertram looked uncomfortable.
"I am true, true to your son, and to you. But Mrs. Bertram, don't interrupt me. In being true, I must give you pain." Again Mrs. Bertram's dark brows drew together until they almost met. Her heart beat fast. "I am not very strong," she said, in a sort of suffocating voice. "You are concealing something; tell it to me at once." "I will. Can you manage not to speak for a moment or two?"
They read and walked and talked together, to be sure, and Bertram's devotion to her lightest wish was beyond question; but more and more frequently these days Billy found him hovering over his sketches in his studio; and once, when he failed to respond to the dinner-bell, search revealed him buried in a profound treatise on "The Art of Foreshortening."
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