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Andrew gazed at him gloomily. "It may pass off," his face cleared a little, "in fact, it's certain to." "It doesn't feel much like it at present: I'm fairly bursting with spirits," smiled Mr. Walkingshaw, and then recollected himself and grew grave again. "What's to be done supposing people do notice?" he asked.
As Heriot Walkingshaw strode between the spring breeze and the murmuring pines, his son's arm through his, listening to his gratitude and Ellen's praises, he too felt happier than ever before in his life. What a lot of pleasure he had learned how to give. And the way to give it was so simple once you found it out.
"Oh, come now, hang it, look me in the eye and repeat that!" For an instant, she looked into that roguish eye, and her worst suspicions were confirmed. "Mr. Walkingshaw," she answered, with trembling candor, "I feel very much honored, but really I must ask you not to not to say anything more. Our ages oh, everything I couldn't! I had better go back now." The philanthropic father gasped.
Walkingshaw deliberately faced the situation. He had not meant to commit himself that evening not, in fact, till he had enjoyed an untrammeled week in town; but he had placed his reputation in this charming lady's hands, and he realized he must obtain a receipt for it. "Don't you care about me?" he inquired tenderly. "What what do you mean, Heriot?" she faltered.
Naturally, Lucas stayed to dinner, and naturally also he and Jean were left in uninterrupted occupation of the private sitting-room, while her father and Frank smoked and talked together in a quiet corner of the hall. Mr. Walkingshaw was radiant with the reflection of the happiness he had brought about.
A desperate gesture dismissed Miss Walkingshaw; yet, though she trembled beneath his wrathful eye, she could not refrain from beseeching him again "He must be, Andrew he must be! Just compare him with the picture." And then she shrank out of the drawing-room. "Leave us," he commanded his wife. Her pale eyes gazed on him defiantly. "I certainly shall not. I demand a full explanation, Andrew!"
Aglow with sentiments, which from being mere amorphous ecstasies were rapidly developing into shapely visions of black eyes and well-nourished contours, Mr. Walkingshaw bade good-night to the ladies and settled himself comfortably in his easy-chair before a friendly fire and in company with a fragrant pipe. How delicious his tobacco tasted! Evidently this last tin must be of a superior quality.
He was the first to break the silence. "Why you don't see a respectable doctor, I can't imagine," said he. "I went to Mackenzie. I went to Grant," replied Mr. Walkingshaw shortly. "A lot of good either of them did my gout!" "Gout!" said Andrew. "And have you exchanged that for anything better? You ought to have stayed in bed to-day. I wonder you ventured out in the state that man's got you into."
George's uncle tried to sing after they thought all was over." Her brother frowned. The possibility that the head of Walkingshaw & Gilliflower might exit singing exceeded his gloomiest forebodings. He wished women did not have that habit of talking about unpleasant things. Could they not keep the like of that to themselves? Even as he frowned the second tap disturbed them.
But, on the other hand, to share the remainder of her existence with Andrew Walkingshaw There rose vividly a picture of that most respectable of partners, and the emotion attendant on this vision drew from her a sigh that ought to have convinced the most skeptical she was very hard hit indeed. It was at this moment that she spied a lad approaching from the house. "Well, Jimmy?" she inquired.
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