SHOALS AHEAD.
It had come to be the custom that Gibbie should go to Donal every Friday afternoon about four o'clock, and remain with him till the same time on Saturday, which was a holiday with both.One Friday, just after he was gone, the temptation seized Mrs.Sclater to follow him, and, paying the lads an unexpected visit, see what they were about.
It was a bright cold afternoon; and in fur tippet and muff, amidst the snow that lay everywhere on roofs and window-sills and pavements, and the wind that blew cold as it blows in few places besides, she looked, with her bright colour and shining eyes, like life itself laughing at death.But not many of those she met carried the like victory in their countenances, for the cold was bitter.As she approached the Widdiehill, she reflected that she had followed Gibbie so quickly, and walked so fast, that the boys could hardly have had time to settle to anything, and resolved therefore to make a little round and spend a few more minutes upon the way.But as, through a neighbouring street, she was again approaching the Widdiehill, she caught sight of something which, as she was passing a certain shop, that of a baker known to her as one of her husband's parishioners, made her stop and look in through the glass which formed the upper half of the door.There she saw Gibbie, seated on the counter, dangling his legs, eating a penny loaf, and looking as comfortable as possible.--"So soon after luncheon, too!" said Mrs.Sclater to herself with indignation, reading through the spectacles of her anger a reflection on her housekeeping.But a second look revealed, as she had dreaded, far weightier cause for displeasure: a very pretty girl stood behind the counter, with whose company Gibbie was evidently much pleased.She was fair of hue, with eyes of gray and green, and red lips whose smile showed teeth whiter than the whitest of flour.At the moment she was laughing merrily, and talking gaily to Gibbie.Clearly they were on the best of terms, and the boy's bright countenance, laughter, and eager motions, were making full response to the girl's words.
Gibbie had been in the shop two or three times before, but this was the first time he had seen his old friend, Mysie, of the amethyst ear-ring.And now one of them had reminded the other of that episode in which their histories had run together; from that Mysie had gone on to other reminiscences of her childhood in which wee Gibbie bore a part, and he had, as well as he could, replied with others, of his, in which she was concerned.Mysie was a simple, well-behaved girl, and the entrance of neither father nor mother would have made the least difference in her behaviour to Sir Gilbert, though doubtless she was more pleased to have a chat with him than with her father's apprentice, who could speak indeed, but looked dull as the dough he worked in, whereas Gibbie, although dumb, was radiant.But the faces of people talking often look more meaningful to one outside the talk-circle than they really are, and Mrs.Sclater, gazing through the glass, found, she imagined, large justification of displeasure.She opened the door sharply, and stepped in.Gibbie jumped from his seat on the counter, and, with a smile of playful roguery, offered it to her; a vivid blush overspread Mysie's fair countenance.
"I thought you had gone to see Donal," said Mrs.Sclater, in the tone of one deceived, and took no notice of the girl.
Gibbie gave her to understand that Donal would arrive presently, and they were then going to the point of the pier, that Donal might learn what the sea was like in a nor'-easter.
"But why did you make your appointment here?" asked the lady.
"Because Mysie and I are old friends," answered the boy on his fingers.
Then first Mrs.Sclater turned to the girl: having got over her first indignation, she spoke gently and with a frankness natural to her.
"Sir Gilbert tells me you are old friends," she said.
Thereupon Mysie told her the story of the ear-ring, which had introduced their present conversation, and added several other little recollections, in one of which she was drawn into a description, half pathetic, half humorous, of the forlorn appearance of wee Gibbie, as he ran about in his truncated trousers.Mrs.
Slater was more annoyed, however, than interested, for, in view of the young baronet's future, she would have had all such things forgotten; but Gibbie was full of delight in the vivid recollections thus brought him of some of the less painful portions of his past, and appreciated every graphic word that fell from the girl's pretty lips.
Mrs.Sclater took good care not to leave until Donal came.Then the boys, having asked her if she would not go with them, which invitation she declined with smiling thanks, took their departure and went to pay their visit to the German Ocean, leaving her with Mysie--which they certainly would not have done, could they have foreseen how the well-meaning lady--nine-tenths of the mischiefs in the world are well-meant--would hurt the feelings of the gentle-conditioned girl.For a long time after, as often as Gibbie entered the shop, Mysie left it and her mother came--a result altogether as Mrs.Sclater would have had it.But hardly anybody was ever in less danger of falling in love than Gibbie; and the thing would not have been worth recording, but for the new direction it caused in Mrs.Sclater's thoughts: measures, she judged, must be taken.