Mrs. Douglas

“ Douglas has made one of a dinner party at the Vavasours', and is at present sitting by her daughter's side in the great flower-scented drawing-room.
Lauraine quietly waves the great white fan of feathers in her hand to and fro, and looks coldly down at her mother's face.
"Who has been good enough to discuss my affairs with you?" she asks, scornfully.
"Pray don't be offended," says Mrs. Douglas, timidly. "People will talk, you know, and really Keith's adoration is very obvious. He never even seems to see there is another woman in the room when you are by. It really is not fair to you. ”

“ Douglas was in a state of such intense felicity that when Lady Eskdale drove off, she observed to Colonel Beaufort, "How wonderfully handsome your aunt is looking to-day! even Mr. Douglas, who thought her altered the last time he saw her, must own she looks very young for her age." Colonel Beaufort's insouciance seemed to have a peculiar fascination for Mrs. Douglas. ”

“ Douglas, when the guest had at last departed, "it's a blessing there is a moon—and that he knows the hill road well. It will take him all his time to be at Birkshaw in time for dinner."
"You shouldn't have made yourself so agreeable, Mother. He couldn't bear to leave your interesting conversation."
"As to that," said Mrs. Douglas, "it does one good to see a man sometimes and hear a man's talk."
"Mother," laughed Ann, "you dearly love a man, and you have all the Victorian woman's reliance on a man's opinion. You love doing things for their benefit; you positively pander to them." ”

“ Douglas. You know you're not fit to marry Marion Wolton!
Fletcher. I know I love her.
Douglas. For how long?
Fletcher. I can't say, but neither can you.—And besides, she loves me!
Douglas. Would she if she knew you?
Fletcher. [Smilingly.] Oh, come, Rhodes, drop it! I don't care a damn what I have done. I'm going to marry her! I haven't made any bones about myself. I've told her I've been a bad lot!
Douglas. Oh, yes, I know, you've confessed probably to having been "fast;" that nearly always appeals to a woman, heaven knows why; I suppose it's the instinct for reformation in them. ”

“ None entertained more lavishly than Senator and Mrs. Douglas. Whatever unpopularity he incurred at the Capitol, she more than offset by her charming and gracious personality. Acknowledged as the reigning queen of the circle in which she moved, Mrs. Douglas displayed a social initiative that seconded admirably the independent, self-reliant attitude of her husband. When Adèle Cutts Douglas chose to close the shutters of her house at noon, and hold a reception by artificial light every Saturday afternoon, society followed her lead. ”

“ Of course, it was rather disrespectful of her to call you 'puir auld buddy,' but the 'awfu' worrit-lookin'' was such an exact description of you doing good works on a wet day in your old clothes that I had to laugh. But we're not getting on."
"It's absurd to talk of writing my life," Mrs. Douglas said. "There is nothing worth telling about. I asked Alison last summer what she was going to be, and she tossed back that yellow mane of hers, and said earnestly, 'Well, Gran, I did think of being a poet, but I've decided just to be an ordinary woman with a baby.' That's all I ever was. ”

“ No wonder I feel for poor old Rory. Alis is more of your school of thought; she is a clever child."
Mrs. Douglas refused to be optimistic. "Alis picks things up almost too easily. I'm afraid she will be a Jack-of-all-trades. Did you read Nannie's letter? Rob and Davie seem to be thriving. Charlotte will find a great difference in the little pair." Mrs. Douglas put on her spectacles and took up a letter to read extracts, but Ann caught her hand.
"Not now, Mother, please; we must talk of Glasgow now. I want to finish your Life this week and get begun to my Christmas presents. ”

“ Two nights later, when the stars had come out to look down at the Green Glen and the curtains were drawn in Dreams, Ann sat down before a small table on which lay a pile of paper and a fountain-pen, and told her mother that she was now ready to write her Life.
"But how do you begin a Life?" Mrs. Douglas asked. She was sitting in her favourite low chair, doing what she called her "reading." Beside her was a pile of devotional books, from each of which she read the portion for the day. Nothing would make her miss this ceremony, and she carted the whole pile about with her wherever she went. ”

“ Douglas.
"The selfish heart deserves the pang it feels; More generous sorrow, while it sinks, exalts, And conscious virtue mitigates the pang."
—YOUNG. MRS. DOUGLAS was, on the maternal side, related to an English family. Her mother had died in giving birth to her; and her father, shortly after, falling in the service of his country, she had been consigned in infancy to the care of her aunt. Lady Audley had taken charge of her, on condition that she should never be claimed by her Scottish relations, for whom that lady entertained as much aversion as contempt. ”

“ Then, advancing to Mary, cold and motionless as a statue, "Courage, madam," said he, "courage! Whatever happens, a friend yet remains for you in the castle; it is Little Douglas."
Scarcely had he finished speaking when the door of the queen's apartment opened, and William Douglas and Lady Lochleven, preceded by servants carrying torches and armed soldiers, appeared on the threshold: the room was immediately filled with people and light.
"Mother," said William Douglas, pointing to his brother standing before Mary Stuart and protecting her with his body, "do you believe me now? Look!" ”

“ Douglas shook his head. "How can I see? You are very beautiful. You have the strength of a fine boy. You have a splendid mind. You have a very special gift in handling animals. You are gay and brave-hearted and lovable. Why in the world should I feel that life isn't fair to you?"
"Don't you see?" wringing her hands together. "I have all that, and no chance to use any of it so that it's put to any sort of big use at all. I'm buried alive!"
"Oh!" Douglas gasped. He had indeed seen Judith's trouble. All the vital beauty, the splendid talents—was marriage to him a big use of them? ”

“ Aunt Agatha?"
"No, she was less sophisticated even than I was. My stand-by was Miss Ayton. My mother trusted her judgment and her taste and asked her help, and Miss Ayton was only too willing to give it; for, spinster of fifty as she was, she loved a marriage. She was one of those delightful women who can be vividly interested in their neighbours' business without ever being a nuisance, and she presided like a stout, benign fairy over my nuptials, getting things done, it seemed, by a wave of her wand."
Mrs. Douglas let her knitting fall on her lap, and lay back in her chair, smiling. ”

“ Douglas drew forward the tall girls that they might share in his greeting.
"I thought I knew you, but am afraid we shall have to get acquainted all over again."
The following morning when, after breakfast, the young people had been put into a carriage for a drive all about the city, Mrs. Douglas had a long conversation with her brother. He told her of the pleasant home in Florence which he had prepared for her, and some of his plans for the coming months.
"But will not the care of so many young people be too much for you, my sister? ”

“ It was miserable work dismantling the house and packing up and saying good-bye."
"Everything has an end," said Ann, "'and a pudden has twa,' to quote Marget's favourite saying. But I could hardly believe we were finished with Martyrs, that we would tramp no more that long road, and sit no more in that back pew to the side of the pulpit, and look up at Father Sunday after Sunday—Mother, surely Father was a very good preacher?"
Mrs. Douglas sat up very straight, as if she were challenging anyone to contradict her, and said proudly: "He was the best preacher I ever heard. ”

“ Douglas was about to speak, but Ann hurried on:
"No, Mother, don't defend them. You can't have forgotten that black day when the Nicol family arrived to spend the afternoon—John and Mackenzie, ripe for any wickedness. The house had just been spring cleaned, and was spotless, and those two boys went through it like an army with banners. It was wet, and they couldn't go out to the garden, and they scoffed at the very idea of looking at picture-books. They slid down the banisters, they tobogganed down the white enamelled stairs, they kicked the paint off the doors. ”

“ The steed along the drawbridge flies, Just as it trembled on the rise; Not lighter does the swallow skim Along the smooth lake’s level brim; And when Lord Marmion reached his band, He halts, and turns with clinched hand, And shout of loud defiance pours, And shook his gauntlet at the towers. “Horse! horse!” the Douglas cried, “and chase!” But soon he reigned his fury’s pace: “A royal messenger he came, Though most unworthy of the name.
St. Mary mend my fiery mood! Old age ne’er cools the Douglas blood, I thought to slay him where he stood. ”

“ Douglas began to read her evening portion out of each of her many volumes, and Ann sat watching the flames leap, and thinking, thinking.
"Mother," she said suddenly, "you said a little while ago that I was spoiled as a child, but I wasn't. Dear me, I was a regular burden bearer, and Mark christened me 'The Patient Cuddy'! You see, I was hampered with always having a small brother to lug about; I could never harden my heart enough to leave them at home. An only girl in a family of brothers has really a harassed existence. It would have been different if Rosamund had lived. ”

“ To-morrow I go to Birkshaw for two nights. Mother, why did I say I would go? I can't bear to leave Dreams for two whole nights."
CHAPTER XIII
For two days it was as if an enchantment had been thrown over Dreams, so great a quiet held the house. Marget and Mysie went about their work hardly speaking at all; Mrs. Douglas sat alone with her stocking and her books of devotion; the Tatler slept for hours together on chairs that he knew well were prohibited; the very fire did not crackle, but lay in a deep glow; the wind was hushed, and moved softly round the white-faced house among the heather. ”

“ Douglas and his young wife, taking it as a perfect example of rare, sweet happiness which she herself had missed, of which she herself was not worthy! How many times had she gone up to the little burial-ground on the height, and laid flowers from her garden on the mound, whose stone bore only the inscription, "Alida, wife of William Douglas, aged twenty-two years." Miss Lois had wished to have a text engraved under this brief line, and a date, but Dr. Douglas gently refused a text, and regarding a date he said: "Time is nothing. ”

“ Only,” continued Douglas, approaching the window and showing to the queen a little house on Kinross hill,—“only, look every evening in that direction, madam, and so long as you see a light shine there, your friends will be keeping watch for you, and you need not lose hope.”
“Thanks, Douglas, thanks,” said the queen; “it does one good to meet with a heart like yours from time to time—oh! thanks.” ”

“ Douglas’s quick and proud intelligence was amazed to find his father so weak and so incompetent under misfortune. All his boyish life he had looked up to the slender, handsome man, whom he himself so much resembled, on a solider, more substantial scale, as the most indulgent of fathers, the princeliest of hosts, the best of shots and riders, chief indeed of the Falloden clan and all its glories, who, like other monarchs, could do no wrong. ”

“ Lady Etwynde is silent. She is thinking it would have been stranger still if Lauraine had taken her mother into her confidence.
"I am sure Sir Francis was always most kind to her," resumes Mrs. Douglas presently. "Always when I have seen them together."
"I believe it is not a rule in good society for husband and wife to quarrel openly," remarks Lady Etwynde.
"She should have been content and sensible like other people," goes on Mrs. Douglas, disregarding the interruption. "Good gracious, every one knows such things go on. ”

“ Douglas patted her shoulder in silence. It was inexpressibly sweet to have her there.
"A girl has a brain, as well as a man," she went on. "She doesn't want to be just a servant to a rough old rancher. She wants to live by her brain as well as he does. What's the use of a woman being fine if that's all her fineness comes to? You can say she hands it on to her children. But she don't. It's something she acquires and it's lost—in the scrubbing pail."
Douglas listened with the whole of his mind. Judith's sobs had ceased now, and she went on, slowly. "It's not that I'm against children. ”

“ William Douglas was a New England man of the brooding type, sent by force of circumstances into the ranks of United States army surgeons. He had married Anne's mother, who had passionately loved him, against the wishes of her family, and had brought the disinherited young bride out to this far Western island, where she had died, happy to the last—one of those rare natures to whom love is all in all, and the whole world well lost for its dear and holy sake. ”

“ Douglas and her brother. All things come to those who wish and wait; and so the time came when Mrs. Douglas found her in Santa Croce, and the desired introduction and invitations were given.
When, therefore, the request that she join the picnic party on Fiesole reached her, and was soon followed by Mrs. Douglas's carriage, Miss Sherman's satisfaction knew no bounds. The lovely eyes, that Barbara and Bettina had so much admired, were more softly brilliant than ever in their expression of happiness, and Mrs. Douglas looked the admiration she felt for her young companion. ”