Harder to bear? Yes, Ermine had already been
passing through a heart sickness that made the morning
like an age. Her resolute will had struggled
hard for composure, cheerfulness, and occupation; but
the little watchful niece had seen through the endeavour,
and had made her own to the sleepless night and the
headache. The usual remedy was a drive in a
wheeled chair, and Rose was so urgent to be allowed
to go and order one, that Ermine at last yielded, partly
because she had hardly energy enough to turn her refusal
graciously, partly because she would not feel herself
staying at home for the vague hope and when the child
was out of sight, she had the comfort of clasping
her hands, and ceasing to restrain her countenance,
while she murmured, “Oh, Colin, Colin, are you
what you were twelve years back? Is this all
dream, all delusion, and waste of feeling, while you
are lying in your Indian grave, more mine than you
can ever be living be as it may,—
“’Calm
me, my God, and keep me calm
While these hot breezes blow;
Be like the night dew’s
cooling balm
Upon earth’s fevered brow.
Calm me, my God, and keep me calm,
Soft resting on Thy breast;
Soothe me with holy hymn and psalm,
And bid my spirit rest.’”
CHAPTER V
MILITARY SOCIETY.
“My
trust
Like a good parent did beget of him
A falsehood in its contrary as great
As my trust was, which had indeed no limit.”—Tempest.
Rose found the wheeled chair, to which her aunt gave
the preference, was engaged, and shaking her little
discreet head at “the shakey chair” and
“the stuffy chair,” she turned pensively
homeward, and was speeding down Mackarel Lane, when
she was stayed by the words, “My little girl!”
and the grandest and most bearded gentleman she had
ever seen, demanded, “Can you tell me if Miss
Williams lives here?”
“My aunt?” exclaimed Rose, gazing up with
her pretty, frightened-fawn look.
“Indeed!” he exclaimed, looking eagerly
at her, “then you are the child of a very old
friend of mine! Did you never hear him speak
of his old school-fellow, Colin Keith?”
“Papa is away,” said Rose, turning back
her neck to get a full view of his face from under
the brim of her hat.
“’Will you run on and ask your aunt if
she would like to see me?” he added.
Thus it was that Ermine heard the quick patter of
the child’s steps, followed by the manly tread,
and the words sounded in her ears, “Aunt Ermine,
there’s a gentleman, and he has a great beard,
and he says he is papa’s old friend! And
here he is.”
Ermine’s beaming eyes as absolutely met the
new comer as though she had sprung forward.
“I thought you would come,” she said, in
a voice serene with exceeding bliss.
“I have found you at last,” as their hands
clasped; and they gazed into each other’s faces
in the untroubled repose of the meeting, exclusive
of all else.
