Mr. Dawson

“ It was Mr Dawson himself he had come to see; and when they all came back, and the young folk had had their tea and were gone home together in the moonlight, her father had something to say to Jean.
“It’s a comfort that you can just leave it to Jean herself,” said his sister, when he told his news to her. Of what her own opinion might be she said nothing, nor was she curious to hear what Mr Dawson might think now about the chance that his daughter had of becoming the wife of Captain Harefield. “It is a thing that she must decide for herself; and indeed she will let no one else decide it.” ”

“ Very evidently it was not Jean, Mr Dawson thought when he went in again. Young Mr Petrie had eyes for only one, and that was Marion, who, sitting at Miss Jean’s side, seemed busy with a piece of worsted work. Mr Petrie was talking eagerly and confidentially, as though he had a right as well as a pleasure in doing so.
“He has put Jean out of his head soon enough,” said Mr Dawson to himself, by way of accounting for the uncomfortable feeling of which he was conscious at the sight.
“Are we to have no more music? Will you not give us another song, Miss Petrie?” ”

“ Every morning, the moment breakfast was ended, he climbed the many stairs to his room to work. From his window he could see his father in the studio, and the pigeons springing up like dreams from the garden and growing small above the battlements of house-tops. If he watched long enough, he might see Mr. Yaflfon come out on his steps, like an old tortoise that had wakened too early, thrusting its bewildered head out of its shell.
He wanted to work; he wanted to do something splendid. He longed more than he had ever longed before to make himself famous—famous that she might share his glory. ”

“ Mr. Dawson turned with a quelled impatience in his manner. His wife entered.
"Oh," she said. She glanced at him, smiling mechanically, as one would at a child. Then she walked rapidly to a little table, and began to look over the morning mail. "Have you been waiting?" she added, absent-mindedly.
"It is not of the least consequence." Mr. Dawson spoke with a fine sarcasm. It was wasted. She did not even hear the reply.
"Ah," she said, tossing down a letter and turning to ring for breakfast. "I must run up to Salem on the noon train." ”

“ And when the gloaming began to fall, there was still no word of them. He went on to Miss Jean’s house, and at the door Marion met him. He got a good look of her face this time. Whatever had grieved or angered her, was not in her thoughts now. Her eyes asked eagerly for tidings.
“No word o’ them yet, but they canna be long now,” said Mr Dawson cheerfully. “I have come to ask you for a cup of tea, though I dare say ye have had yours lang syne. Ye maunna be anxious, my dear. There is really no cause to fear for them as yet.” ”

“ She saw the mingled horror and bewilderment in his eyes, and she laughed lightly as though that amused her.
“Do you know,” she said, “I believe I guessed as much from the first, but I'm afraid Mr. Dawson was too clever for you—as he is for most people. ”

“ But what are your plans? if it be fair to ask,” said Mr Dawson. Marion did not laugh, but answered gravely, “First I must make ‘a learned woman’ of myself, and that will take a good while. I used to think I would have a young ladies’ school, but I have changed my mind. Young ladies are troublesome, and I think I would prefer to teach boys.”
Mr James whistled. Mr Dawson said, “Well, and what would you teach them?”
“Whatever they needed to learn. I can hardly tell yet about it. But Mrs Manners has promised me her boys.”
“She is to lose no time it seems,” said Miss Jean smiling. ”

“ I have since met the person referred to, an Englishman living in Washington, and well known at the Legation and elsewhere. Mr. Dawson came to tell me that he had seen a letter in an American journal, which was copied extensively all over the Union, in which the writer stated he accompanied me on my return to Fairfax Court-house, and that the incident I related in my account of Bull Run did not occur, but that he was the individual referred to, and could swear with his assistant that every word I wrote was true. ”

“ Mr. Rapson’s attention was completely taken up with his driving; it needed to be, for he swung round corners and squeezed between farm-wagons in outrageously reckless fashion. I watched his strong masterful hands, how they gathered in the reins and forced the horses to obedience. My eyes wandered up him and rested on his face: the face of a man a little over thirty, calm and yet when stern almost cruelly determined, with a shapely beak of a Roman nose planted squarely in the middle of it—a sign-post to his purpose.
Then I glanced at my uncle with his fashionable checks and scarlet geranium. ”

“ Life is uncertain, though mine may be no more so than that of other men. But no man should put off settling his affairs, for the sake of those that are to come after him. I wish to do justly, but I will not divide the land, and I will not burden it.”
“No, it wouldna be weel to divide the land nor to burden it,” said Miss Jean.
There was a long silence and then Mr Dawson said gravely, felling into the Scottish tongue as he and the rest of them were apt to do when much moved. ”

“ But the mirror was of no assistance in the settlement of this problem, for, now that Dawson was mere consciousness only, the mirror gave back no evidence of his material existence.
"This is awful!" he moaned, as he turned and twisted his mind in a mad effort to imagine how he looked. "Where in thunder can I have left myself?"
As he spoke the door opened, and a man having the semblance of a valet entered.
"'GOOD-MORNING, MR. DAWSON'"
"Good-morning, Mr. Dawson," said the valet—for that is what the intruder was—busying himself about the room. "I hope you find yourself well this morning?" ”

“ Mr Dawson had always been respected as an honest man,—a man of his word; but when their fellow townsmen discussed the father and son in their new relations, as they were not slow to do, it was said of George, that he was “a true gentleman”; and by this it was meant, that the temptations which his father, as a man of business had all his life successfully resisted, the son would never see as temptations at all. While those who came into business relations with him saw that he would probably be as successful in the making of money as his father had been ”

“ The two copies shall reach the Kaiser, bless him, but I really must have Hagan’s set of Notes for my Museum.’
‘And what will become of Hagan?’ asked Cary.
‘Come and see,’ said Mr. Dawson.
Dawson entertained Cary at dinner in a private room at the Station Hotel, waited upon by one of his own confidential men. ‘Nobody ever sees me,’ he observed with much satisfaction, ‘though I am everywhere.’ (I suspect that Dawson is not without his little vanities.) ‘Except in my office and with people whom I know well, I am always someone else. ”

“ Her face was bright and her air cheerful enough at the moment, but for all that there was a look of thoughtfulness and gravity upon it—a silent look—which reminded her father of his sister’s look at her age. Only she was more beautiful. She was like a young princess, he thought, in his pride in her.
“Is it her gown?” asked he; “or is it the way that Jean puts her hair? What has ’come o’ a’ her curls this while back?”
The question was not to be answered. The opening of a little gate at the side of the lawn made them turn, and then Mr Dawson rose to greet a stranger who was coming up the walk. ”

“ Dawson getting up and going to the door. "I'm a plain man, you know—"
"Then, sir, all I can say is that I object to plain men."
"I say, who are you? One would think you were a duke or somebody, you're so peppery. Dressed up"—Mr. Dawson glanced at the suit of pedagogic black into which Fritzing had once more relapsed—"dressed up as a street preacher."
"I am not dressed up as anything, sir," said Fritzing coming in rather hurriedly. "I am a retired teacher of the German tongue, and have come down from London in search of a cottage in which to spend my remaining years. ”

“ With the last the name of May Dawson was mentioned, and being herself intensely interested in the matter, Marion went into particulars.
“He is an Englishman; but they all like him. I like his lace. Yes, I saw him once, and Jean made me sing a song to him—‘The bonny House o’ Airlie.’ And auld Miss Jean likes him, she told my mother. He is no’ a rich man, and folk wonder at Mr Dawson being so well pleased. But what seems strange to me is, that May should be married before her sister. ”

“ His son was coming home; but, alas! he could never have his light-hearted, bonny laddie back again. George was a man now, “knowing good and evil.” It could never be again between them as it had been before their trouble came.
“Ane o’ your kind, Miss Jean,” the mate had said; “a changed man.”
Mr Dawson’s thoughts went back to the time of his sister’s trouble, when she had become “a changed woman.” All the anger and vexation, that had then seemed natural and right, because of her new ways, had passed out of his heart, a score of years and more. ”

“ You can't go throwin' your arms round a stranger's neck in the huntin'-field. It's simply not done."
"When I require your assistance on what is or is not done, Mr. Dawson, I will let you know," returned the girl, coldly. "Until then kindly keep such information to yourself."
"Mr. Dawson!" The youth recoiled a pace. "Molly! what do you mean?"
But the girl was taking not the slightest notice of him; her eyes were fixed on the stranger, who was talking for a moment to David Dawlish.
"You forgot to take my cap," he said to the secretary, with a smile. "If you like I will send it along by post ”

“ Judged by this standard, Thomas J. Dawson was a most successful man. His life measured up to the standard which all men acknowledge good. His record was as an open book which all might read and there were many who bore testimony to his kindness of heart and his generous spirit manifest in active effort for the alleviation of hard conditions of life for the unfortunate and for practical improvement along the line of civic and moral reform. Mr. Dawson was born at Knockmanoul, Ireland, April 29, 1843, and spent his early life in Dublin and Belfast. ”

“ Mr Dawson’s face darkened as it always did at the mention of any name that brought back the remembrance of his son. May was not quick at noticing such signs, and she answered her aunt.
“A bairn! Yes, but ‘a bairn by the common,’ as Mrs Petrie’s Eppie says. She is a clever little creature.”
“She is a far-awa’ cousin o’ Mrs Petrie’s, and she’s learning some things from the governess of her bairns. But she might well have been spared on an occasion like yesterday, I would think,” said Miss Jean.
“Oh! all the bairns were there, as well as Marion. ”

“ Unseen people entered. Vashti shaded her face with her hand; it was easy to guess of whom she was thinking. Fluffy gazed into space, a child who finds itself alone and is frightened. Mr. Dak was inscrutable. Horace lay back, staring at the ceiling, watching the ascending smoke of his cigarette. To Teddy the room was like an empty house in which innumerable clocks ticked loudly.
He met Desire’s eyes. “We are young. We are young,” they said. “Why won’t they leave us to ourselves?” ”

“ Mr Dawson listened to her with mingled feelings, but he said quietly, “What would two women folk, seeing little company, do with a big house like that? And you could never persuade them.”
“But they would see company more or less, and have folk coming for the summer. And the house is not so very big, and none too good for the ‘auld laird’s’ sister, and the ‘young laird’s’ mother. And I think I could persuade them. And if this were all settled George would be content to bide with you at Saughleas. ”

“ He’ll come home again.”
“Many a son of a good mother has gone down to death—And that he should have come so near her grave, without coming nearer! I would almost sooner know him to be dead than to know that of him. And when I mind—”
That was the last word spoken. Mr Dawson rose and went out into the faint light of the summer night, and though his sister sat long waiting for him after the girls had come in and had gone to bed, she saw no more of him that night. ”

“ Miss Jean had not been betrayed into saying this, though that was her brother’s first thought.
“Yes. She is like her sister—and he hasna forgotten her. But I think it was chiefly your anger and vexation that he held up to her—as against his own father’s kindness.”
“But George?” repeated Mr Dawson. “Yes. But it is not George I am thinking about, but Marion. And her mother too. Do ye ken that though he has ay gone to see Mrs Calderwood whenever he has been in London, George had never seen her daughter after the time of May’s marriage till he saw her the ither night at Saughleas? ”

“ It is likely that Mrs Calderwood understood her motive and intention, though no word passed between them with regard to it. All this Miss Jean told in as few words as might be to her brother. “I doubt it hasna answered,” added she. “Such plans seldom answer. But why should you take it to heart. They maun please themselves,” said Mr Dawson impatiently. “I acknowledge I am surprised that old Petrie should pitch on a penniless lass for his son. It is nae what I should ha’e expected of him, and I ken him weel.” ”

“ I thought he had forgotten me, and whiles I wasna sore that he had ever cared; and, papa, nothing has been said even yet.” Mr Dawson laughed.
“And ye wouldna have broken your heart, even if this confident sailor had never come home?”
“No, papa. I don’t think it. There is always plenty of work in the world, and I would have tried to do my share, as Auntie Jean has done. I should not have broken my heart, but—you are not very angry, papa?”
“My dear, my anger is neither here nor there. Ye are your ain mistress now, and can do as you please without asking my leave.” ”