A Song of a Single Note: A Love Story

At breakfast next morning the conversation turned naturally upon the
arrival of Maria Semple. The Elder showed far the most enthusiasm
concerning it. He wondered, and calculated, and supposed, till he felt
he had become tiresome and exhausted sympathy, and then he subsided into
that painful attitude of disappointment and resignation, which is, alas,
too often the experience of the aged? His companions were not in
sympathy with him. Madame was telling herself she must not expect too
much. Once she had set her heart upon a beautiful girl who was to become
Neil's wife, and her love had been torn up by the roots: "maist women
carry a cup of sorrow for some one to drink," she thought, "and I'm
feared for them." As for Neil, he felt sure the girl was going to be a
tie and a bore, and he considered his brother exceedingly selfish in
throwing the care of his daughter upon his aged parents.It was not a pleasant meal, but in good hearts depression and doubt find no abiding place. When Neil had gone to his affairs, the Elder looked at his wife, and she gave him his pipe with a smile, and talked to him about Maria as she put away her china. And she had hardly turned the key of the glass closet, when the knocker of the front door fell twice--two strokes, clear, separate, distinct. The Elder rose quickly and with much excitement. "That is Bradley's knock," he said; "I never heard it before, but it is just the way he would call any one."

He was going out of the room as he spoke, and Madame joined him. When they entered the hall the front door was open, and a short, stout man was standing on the threshold, holding a young girl by the hand. He delivered her to the Elder very much as he would have delivered a valuable package intrusted to his care, and then, as they stood a few moments in conversation, Maria darted forward, and with a little cry of joy nestled her head on her grandmother's breast. The confiding love of the action was irresistible. "You darling!" whispered the old lady with a kiss; "let me look at you!" And she put her at arm's length, and gazed at the pretty, dark face with its fine color, and fine eyes, charmingly set off by the scarlet hood of her traveling cloak.

"What do you think o' your granddaughter, Elder?" she asked, when he joined them, and her voice was trembling with love and pride.

"I think she is yoursel' o'er again; the vera same bonnie Janet Gordon I woo'd and loved in Strathallen nearly fifty years syne. Come and gie me twenty kisses, bairnie. You are a vera cordial o' gladness to our hearts."


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