"He will never do that, I am sure."
"There is no knowing. He has never been, in his own estimation,
disengaged from me," said Ermine; "his brother is bent on his
marrying, and he ought to be perfectly free to do so, and not under the
disadvantage that any report of this affair would be to him."
"Well, I am sure he never will," said Fanny, almost petulantly; "I know
I shall hate her, that's all."
Ermine thought her own charity towards Mrs. Colin Keith much more
dubious than Lady Temple's, but she continued-"At any rate you will be so very kind as not to let any one know of it.
I am glad you do. I should not feel it right that you should not, but it
is different with others."
"Thank you. And if you will not come to me, you will let me come to
you, won't you? It will be so nice to come and talk him over with you.
Perhaps I shall persuade you some of these days after all. Only I must
go now, for I always give the children their tea on Sunday. But please
let your dear little niece come up to-morrow and play with them; the
little Hammonds will be there, she is just their age."
Ermine felt obliged to grant this at least, though she was as doubtful
of her shy Rose's happiness as of the expedience of the intimacy; but
there was no being ungracious to the gentle visitor, and no doubt Ermine
felt rejoiced and elevated. She did not need fresh assurances of Colin's
constancy, but the affectionate sister-like congratulations of this
loving, winning creature, showed how real and in earnest his intentions
were. And then Lady Temple's grateful esteem for him being, as it was,
the reflection of her husband's, was no small testimony to his merits.
"Pretty creature!" said Ermine to herself, "really if it did come to
that, I could spare him to her better than to any one else. She has some
notion how to value him."
Alison and Rose had, in the meantime, been joined by Colonel Keith and
the boys, whom Alick had early deserted in favour of a sunny sandy nook.
The Colonel's purpose was hard on poor Alison; it was to obtain her
opinion of her sister's decision, and the likelihood of persistence
in it. It was not, perhaps, bad for either that they conversed under
difficulties, the boys continually coming back to them from excursions
on the rocks, and Rose holding her aunt's hand all the time, but to be
sure Rose had heard nearly all the Colonel's affairs, and somehow mixed
him up with Henry of Cranstoun.
Very tenderly towards Alison herself did Colin Keith speak. It was the
first time they had ever been brought into close contact, and she had
quite to learn to know him. She had regarded his return as probably a
misfortune, but it was no longer possible to do so when she heard his
warm and considerate way of speaking of her sister, and saw him only
desirous of learning what was most for her real happiness. Nay, he even
made a convert of Alison herself! She did believe that would Ermine but
think it right to consent, she would be happy and safe in the care of
one who knew so well how to love her. Terrible as the wrench would be to
Alison herself, she thought he deserved her sister, and that she would
be as happy with him as earth could make her. But she did not believe
Ermine would ever accept him. She knew the strong, unvarying resolution
by which her sister had always held to what she thought right, and did
not conceive that it would waver. The acquiescence in his visits, and
the undisguised exultant pleasure in his society, were evidences to
Alison not of wavering or relenting, but of confidence in Ermine's own
sense of impossibility. She durst not give him any hope, though she
owned that he merited success. "Did she think his visits bad for her
sister?" he then asked in the unselfishness that pleaded so strongly for
him.