Gordon laughed.
“Yes, she was in New York, and I met her there, once, but only a very few minutes. That was all!”
“A few minutes!” his mother was appalled.
“Yes, just a few minutes. She was on shipboard, just starting over to Scotland to visit some relatives. She was all alone. Her mother had just died. They had planned to go over together, but her mother died a week before they were to sail. She was pretty well broken up, I think, but of course I didn’t know it. I had been sent down to give some papers to a man who was sailing on the same ship, and as I came down the deck toward the companionway, I saw somebody standing by the rail watching the people, and her back looked sort of familiar. I stopped an instant to identify her, and sure enough, it was Rose Galbraith. I just impulsively stepped up and said, ‘Why, if this isn’t Rose Galbraith!’ or something like that. And she turned around and recognized me, and her face lit up. She seemed so glad to see somebody she knew. She said she was just thinking how she was leaving her native land, and there wasn’t even an acquaintance down in that throng to say good-bye to, and everybody else seemed to have friends. She said she was glad I had spoken to her. She was looking very sweet and pretty. Had something blue on and a blue hat that matched her eyes. I never saw her look so nice and like other girls before, and she seemed so pleased to see me that I lingered a minute or two. I asked her who she was going with and her eyes filled up with quick tears, though she smiled through them and said she was going alone, that her mother and she had been going together, but instead she’d had to leave her mother in the Shandon Cemetery. Well, gosh, that kind of got me, Mother. I felt awfully sorry for her, and I stood there a minute or two more talking, asked her where she was going and all that, you know, and then I realized—well, that isn’t so, I did realize but I did what we usually do when someone we know well is going across the sea or off anywhere for a long time, I just stooped over and kissed her! There, Mother! That’s the story! I suppose you and Dad won’t understand what I mean, but I tell you truly I can’t get away from the memory of her lips, the look in her eyes, her little hand in mine! And it wasn’t any mush-mush stuff, either! It’s real. I’ve been testing it out ever since. I did my best coming home and trying to get interested in that ‘Miss know-it-all’ that you had here for me, but it didn’t work. I even tried her out again, just last night, for she turned up on the train when I was on my way down to Silver Beach where Fran Tallant had coerced me into going to fill in for her brother Ed. I stuck it out till mid evening and then I decided I was done and the time had come to do something decisive. So I called you up, took a taxi to a poky old train, and came home. And here I am! Now, what have you got to say?”
“But, Gordon,” said his father, taking a sudden hand, “do I understand that that scene on the boat is the last? You haven’t seen her or had any contact with her since?”
“Not on your life!” said Gordon. “I’ve been in touch with her right along. I stopped at the flower shop as I went down and ordered a lot of flowers sent up to her cabin before I got off. Then two or three days later I sent her a radio message on shipboard. And ever since we’ve been corresponding. I’ve got her last letter right here in my breast pocket and you can read it, both of you, if you like. It’s a pippin! Of course it’s not a love letter. We haven’t got that far yet. I mean, I have, but I don’t know where she stands as to that. We’ve just been corresponding as friends, so far.”
“Oh-oh!” said Father McCarroll. “So that’s the way it is! Well, Son, I should say you had shown pretty good judgment as to how to go about things. Almost as good work as we got away with, isn’t it, Mother?” And he came over and sat down on the arm of her chair and put a loving arm around his wife. “How about it, little mother, are you going to wish your boy godspeed?”
“Of course!” said Gordon’s mother, wiping away the tears and lighting up her own mother smile.
“But Gordon,” she said a moment later, with a little puzzled look on her brow that almost verged on anxiety, “what are you going to do next? Don’t you think it is time you began to inquire a little more about her? You know you scarcely know her at all.”
“Not on your life, Mother. I know all I need to know. Whatever else I find out I’ll find out from her own lips. The next thing I’m going to do is go over to Scotland and find out if she feels the same way I do. That’s the most important thing, and I’m not going to wait any longer.”
“You mean you are going to give up your job, or have they fired you?” asked his father.
“No, neither,” laughed Gordon. “But I get two weeks vacation anyway, and I am reasonably sure I can coax my superior into giving me another week or two to do some business for the firm. The man who was going broke his leg last week, and I heard last night that he isn’t getting on as fast as they hoped he would. I happen to know they are mighty anxious to have somebody from the company over there on the spot. I’m going up to New York tomorrow morning and see what I can do with them, and if all goes well I’ll sail on the first ship leaving New York tomorrow. Will you wish me well or not, Mother? Father?”
“Sure!” said the father happily.
“Why, of course, Gordon,” said the mother in a small tight voice, “but don’t you think you are being a bit hasty? You know marriage lasts a long time. If it’s all right—”
“It’s all right, Mother! Read that letter and see if you don’t think so! She’s a Christian girl, Mother, and a darned sight better Christian than I’ve ever been with all my wonderful upbringing. And if she’s willing to tie up to me, I’ll have to go some to keep step.”
So Mother McCarroll read Rose’s letter, and Father McCarroll sat and beamed on his son happily.
And when his mother had read the letter, she passed it over to her husband.
“Yes, that’s a lovely letter,” she said and got out her handkerchief and wiped her eyes. She was deeply touched. “Yes, she must be a lovely girl!”
So then Gordon started in to tell her all about the other letters he had under lock and key in New York, and Father McCarroll amid it all, trying to read the letter and yet attend to what was being said, nearly lost his mind. He wanted to listen and smile, and he wanted to read, but he managed somehow to do both.
Gordon described the castle and the thatched cottage and the grandmother and the evening and morning worship, and all the sweet Scotch habits and customs he was beginning to love. The parents listened eagerly, thoughtfully, and reflected that much as they had wanted to teach their boy to be a warm, sincere Christian, they had failed to establish a family altar in their home. It had been a long time since they had even thought about such a custom, though it had been a habit in both the homes in which they themselves had been brought up.
“Yes,” said Father McCarroll. “That’s a good thing, family worship. That’s the way I was brought up. And you too, Mother,” nodding toward his wife.
She bowed her head in assent.
“Well, go on, Son! When you get over there what are you going to do next? Get a job and stay there and go courting her?”
“Oh, no,” said Gordon with a grin. “I’ll do that the first few minutes, and then we’re going to get married, if she’ll have me, and I really think she cares. Believe me, Dad, we’re not going to let that sea separate us anymore.”
“Oh!” said the father. “And I suppose your mother and I can stay at home and suck our thumbs. You aren’t even thinking of inviting us to the wedding, are you?”
Gordon’s face lit gorgeously.
“Sure thing, Dad. Would you come? Do you mean you’d leave business and everything and bring Mother over to the wedding?”
“Why of course, if we were invited,” said his parent with a grin.
“Well, you’re invited. We’ll cable an invitation the minute we get the day settled. Say, Dad and Mother, you’re both peaches! Of course I knew you would be, but somehow it’s better than I had even wished!”
And then suddenly the dinner bell rang, and
with their arms about one another as they used to walk when Gordon was a little boy, they all three went abreast into the dining room.
Chapter 20
So there was Gordon McCarroll standing at the door of the thatched cottage in Kilcreggan, and Rose, opening the door, all unaware!
“Gordon!” she cried, a great light coming into her eyes.
He put out his hands and took both of hers in his own, and then with a kind of glory in his face he bent and kissed her. Then suddenly his arms went around her and he drew her close, his lips on hers.
“Rose! My little love!” he whispered softly, as she suddenly nestled closer to him and put her rosy face down on his shoulder. “Rose, I love you! Don’t you know it? Look up, dear. Let me see what your eyes say.”
For answer she lifted smiling eyes, and he laid his lips again on hers. “Oh!” she said softly. “Is this real, or is it just a dream?”
“It is real, little Rose,” he said softly and held her close.
Then they heard footsteps coming toward the kitchen door, and Gordon quickly released her, and stood looking at her, his face shining.
The door opened, and there was Aunt Jessie with a wondering look on her sweet face. Rose, all shining-faced and happy, took Gordon by the hand shyly and led him over to her aunt.
“Aunt Jessie, this is my friend Gordon McCarroll, from home.”
Aunt Jessie turned a sudden quick look on the young man, and then apparently satisfied, beamed upon him.
“Yir verra welcome,” she said extending her hand in greeting. “A’ doot it’s a glad day for oor little lassie tae see a frien’ frae hame. Tak his hat, Rosie, an’ gie him a chair. Air ye juist frae the ship, or came ye by Liverpool?”
“Yes, I came by Liverpool,” said Gordon. “I landed two days ago. Had to stop in London on business for the company that demanded haste, and then I came right on here by train. I am so very glad to find Rose here. I was afraid she might have gone to the castle in Edinburgh, but I decided to try here first.”
A quick look passed between Rose and her aunt.
“But I almost did,” said Rose, with a motion of her hand to her heart. “I was just saying this minute that I thought I ought to go at once, and Aunt Jessie was saying she wouldn’t let me go alone, that I would have to wait till my cousins came back. It wasn’t safe.”
“Safe?” said Gordon with quick alarm in his eyes. “Why wouldn’t it be safe?”
“Mayhap a’ shudna hae mentioned it,” said Aunt Jessie penitently. “I thocht ye micht know a’ aboot it.”
“Not quite all,” said Rose with flaming cheeks, “but it’s all right, Aunt Jessie. I’ll tell him about it at once. I’m sure he’ll understand.”
“Well, sit ye doon in the shade in the yaird whiles an’ talk, an’ a’ll get a bit meal on the table. Then when the lads come ye can eat an’ go if gang ye must.”
Hand in hand they went out in the yard to the rustic bench under the big tree and sat down, and Gordon put his arm about her and drew her closer to him.
“Darling!” he said, looking deep into her eyes. “Do you really love me?”
It was several minutes before they could tear their thoughts away from their delight in each other
But suddenly Gordon straightened up and said: “But now, what is all this about going to Edinburgh? Can I go too? Because I’m not going to let you out of my sight while I’m here, and when I have to go, I want to take you back with me.”
Then they had to talk about that for a few minutes. Rose almost lost her breath entirely at the thought. Go back with Gordon as his wife! It brought a glow to her cheeks that lasted a long time. It was too new a thought to be dismissed lightly.
But then suddenly Rose realized that the boys would be coming back in a few minutes and they would be called to lunch. She must tell Gordon about her letter from Aunt Janet.
In the end the story was told very rapidly. But Gordon gave instant attention when she began to tell about Lord MacCallummore and her uncle’s talk that she had overheard. His eyes were upon her lovely face as she talked, and now and again his hand would reach up and just touch her cheek lightly with the tip of his finger, as one touches something very precious indeed. And then at last she brought out her aunt’s two letters which she had been comparing when he arrived, and while he read them, her hand was in his and she was watching him and trying to take it in that henceforth he would belong to her, and they would be together as long as they both should live. How wonderful God was to her.
When he had finished he looked up, handing back the letters.
“Why, of course you will go,” he said gravely. “You would always feel condemned if you didn’t. It is a chance to do what you call ‘testify,’ isn’t it?” And his face lighted like one who had succeeded in speaking a foreign tongue so that it could be understood.
She flashed back a smile.
“You have been reading the book I sent you,” she charged.
“Yes,” he said, “and it was great! And now I’m trying to live it. You know, a book is no good unless you can put it into practice—unless it’s worth putting into practice. And I’ve learned that about the Bible, too. You read a little way till you find some direction and then you go out and live it until you find out what it was the Lord was trying to call your attention to when you read it.”
“Oh, Gordon, it’s going to be so wonderful to have us interested in the same things!”
“Isn’t it!” said Gordon, pressing her hand softly. “My sweet! My little sweet girl! And to think I went to school with you all those years and never knew how dear you were till you went sailing away out of my life, and I only had a chance to kiss you good-bye.”
And then the old car came rattling up to the gate, and Donald and David came pell mell up to the house and out again as soon as their mother had told them to give that newcomer a “once-over.” They were keen-eyed lads, those two, and they saw at once what their cousin’s friend was like, and were satisfied.
And when the introductions were over, David was impatient to be gone. “Shall we go?” he asked.
“Mither said come an’ eat. There’s Kirsty. Let’s go!” said Donald.
They went into the house, and Gordon stood among them as one of them, exactly as if he had known them a long time.
“Three braw laddies,” said Jessie, looking at them pridefully. “I mind yir name’s Gordon. That’ll be a guid Scotch name.”
“Yes.” Gordon said with a grin. “I’ve been banking on that a lot to pass with you all. And now, Aunt Jessie, I may as well tell you the whole thing. I came over here to marry your niece and take her home with me. Now, perhaps you won’t want me to call you that yet.”
Aunt Jessie gave a quick look at Rose, and then at the rest of them and smiled.
“Who wud have suspected that?” said Aunt Jessie comically. “Wi’ Rose a-snatchin’ for yir letters as if they wes meat and drink! Now what a braw laddie! Anither new laddie to ca’ me Aunt Jessie! God be praised. A’ like ye fine!”
And then out came Grandmother, walking over and taking his hand in hers, studying his smiling face there above her.
“Ye’ll dae,” she said with decision. “A’ can trust ye with my wee Rose.” And suddenly she reached up her two hands to each side of his face and pulled him down and kissed him fairly on his lips. “A guid laddie,” she said, with his hands in hers. “A’m sateesfied!” Then she smiled.
Gordon bent and kissed her brow reverently where the silver hair parted on her forehead. And standing up straight and solemn he said, “I’m proud to have passed that examination. I think that has meant more to me than a degree from any university would mean.”
They sat down at the table and the old lady, with her eyes on the guest, said, “Gordon will return thanks!” She looked straight at him with the challenge. Gordon, with heightened color, bowed his head. It happened that he had never been asked to serve in that way before, but he spoke with tender reverence.
“Lord, we th
ank Thee for this coming together, and for this food, and for the fellowship we have with Thee. Bless and lead us today for Thy name’s sake. Amen.”
No one said anything as they raised their heads, and Jessie began to serve the rich Scotch broth and to pass the bread. But there was a feeling in the air that Gordon had passed even a far greater examination than before.
Kirsty was quiet and busy, watching the guest now and then, and Rose looked up.
“Kirsty, you’re going along with us. Can you spare her, Aunt Jessie? She can be seeing the sights of Edinburgh while Gordon and I go in to see Aunt Janet.”
And so Kirsty went with them, and very soon they were on their way, the boys and their sister in front and Rose and Gordon in the backseat.
“You can talk better together that way,” said Donald wisely, “and belike there’ll be plenty tae say. Ye’ll not be feelin’ that we’re watchin’ ye a’l the time, either,” he added with a grin and a wink.
“Yes,” said Rose, a little troubled. “We must plan what to say when we get there. I must tell Gordon all about the MacCallummores.”
“But do you really think that I should go in?” asked Gordon anxiously. “Won’t I seem to be intruding?”
“Belike you’ll gang in wi’ ’er or she wull nae gang hersel’,” said Donald fiercly. “It’s no safe for her inside thae walls. Ye’ll gang, or else I’ll gang mysel’, an’ that winna be guid!”
So they began to discuss the matter, and Gordon said yes, if it was a matter of Rose’s safety, of course he would go.
But they had a happy drive in spite of the errand that weighed so heavily on them, and late in the afternoon they arrived at the castle. There was grave silence as they followed the winding drive up to the massive structure above them.
“I shall never forget this sight,” said Gordon proudly. “It may be a thing of menace, but it’s a proud one, and I’m glad I saw it.”
After they had made an agreement as to the time they would return, Rose and Gordon got out and mounted the steps to the door, and Donald drove his old car slowly down the winding road while David and Kirsty kept a furtive watch out for when Thomas would open the door.
Rose Galbraith Page 22