第19章

At the party that night none was gayer than young Cameron. The shy reserve that usually marked him was thrust aside. His fine, lithe figure, set off by his Highland costume, drew all eyes in admiration, and whether in the proud march of the piper, or in the wild abandon of the Highland Fling, he seemed to all the very beau ideal of a gallant Highland gentleman.

Dunn stood in the circle gathered to admire, watching Cameron's performance of that graceful and intricate Highland dance, all unconscious of a pair of bright blue eyes fastened on his face that reflected so manifestly the grief and pain in his heart.

"And wherefore this gloom?" said a gay voice at his side. It was Miss Bessie Brodie.

Poor Dunn! He was not skilled in the fine art of social deception.

He could only gaze stupidly and with blinking eyes upon his questioner, devoutly hoping meanwhile that the tears would not fall.

"Splendid Highlander, isn't he?" exclaimed Miss Bessie, hastily withdrawing her eyes from his face, for she was much too fine a lady to let him see her surprise.

"What?" exclaimed Dunn. "I don't know. I mean--yes, awfully--oh, confound the thing, it's a beastly shame!"

Thereupon Miss Bessie turned her big blue eyes slowly upon him.

"Meaning what?" she said quietly.

"Oh, I beg pardon. I'm just a fool. Oh, hang it all!" Dunn could not recover his composure. He backed out of the circle of admirers into a darker corner.

"Fool?" said Miss Brodie, stepping back with him. "And why, pray?

Can I know? I suppose it's Cameron again," she continued. "Oh, I know all about you and your mothering of him."

"Mothering!" said Dunn bitterly. "That is just what he needs, by Jove. His mother has been dead these five years, and that's been the ruin of him."

The cheers from Cameron's admirers broke in upon Dunn's speech.

"Oh, it's too ghastly," he muttered.

"Is it really so bad? Can't I help?" cried Miss Brodie. "You know I've had some experience with boys."

As Dunn looked into her honest, kindly eyes he hesitated. Should he tell her? He was in sore need of counsel, and besides he was at the limit of his self-control. "I say," he said, staring at her, while his lips quivered, "I'd like awfully to tell you, but I know if I ever begin I shall just burst into tears before this gaping crowd."

"Tears!" exclaimed Miss Bessie. "Not you! And if you did it wouldn't hurt either them or you. An International captain possesses this advantage over other mortals: that he may burst into tears or anything else without losing caste, whereas if I should do any such thing-- But come, let's get somewhere and talk it over.

Now, then," said Miss Brodie as they found a quiet corner, "first of all, ought I to know?"

"You'll know, all Edinburgh will know time day after to-morrow," said Dunn.

"All right, then, it can't do any harm for me to know to-night. It possibly may do good."

"It will do me good, anyway," said Dunn, "for I have reached my limit."

Then Dunn told her, and while she listened she grew grave and anxious. "But surely it can be arranged!" she exclaimed, after he had finished.

"No, Mr. Rae has tried everything. The Bank is bound to pursue it to the bitter end. It is apparently a part of its policy."

"What Bank?"

"The Bank of Scotland."

"Why, that's my uncle's Bank! I mean, he is the Chairman of the Board of Directors, and the Bank is the apple of his eye; or one of them, I mean--I'm the other."

"Oh, both, I fancy," said Dunn, rather pleased with his own courage.

"But come, this is serious," said Miss Brodie. "The Bank, you know, or you don't know, is my uncle's weak spot."

Mr. Rae's words flashed across Dunn's mind: "We ought to have found his weak spots."

"He says," continued Miss Brodie with a smile--"you know he's an old dear!--I divide his heart with the Bank, that I have the left lobe. Isn't that the bigger one? So the Bank and I are his weak spots; unless it is his Wiltshires--he is devoted to Wiltshires."

"Wiltshires?"

"Pigs. There are times when I feel myself distinctly second to them. Are you sure my uncle knows all about Cameron?"

"Well, Mr. Rae and Captain Cameron--that's young Cameron's father--went out to his place--"

"Ah, that was a mistake," said Miss Brodie. "He hates people following him to the country. Well, what happened?"

"Mr. Rae feels that it was rather a mistake that Captain Cameron went along."

"Why so? He is his father, isn't he?"

"Yes, he is, though I'm bound to say he's rather queer for a father." Whereupon Dunn gave her an account of his interview in Mr. Rae's office.

Miss Brodie was indignant. "What a shame! And what a fool! Why, he is ten times more fool than his son; for mark you, his son is undoubtedly a fool, and a selfish fool at that. I can't bear a young fool who sacrifices not simply his own life, but the interests of all who care for him, for some little pet selfishness of his own. But this father of his seems to be even worse than the son. Family name indeed! And I venture to say he expatiated upon the glory of his family name to my uncle. If there's one thing that my uncle goes quite mad about it is this affectation of superiority on the ground of the colour of a man's blood! No wonder he refused to withdraw the prosecution! What could Mr. Rae have been thinking about? What fools men are!"

"Quite true," murmured Mr. Dunn.

"Some men, I mean," cried Miss Brodie hastily. "I wish to heaven I had seen my uncle first!"

"I suppose it's too late now," said Dunn, with a kind of gloomy wistfulness.

"Yes, I fear so," said Miss Brodie. "You see when my uncle makes up his mind he appears to have some religious scruples against changing it."

"It was a ghastly mistake," said Dunn bitterly.

"Look here, Mr. Dunn," said Miss Brodie, turning upon him suddenly, "I want your straight opinion. Do you think this young man guilty?"

They were both looking at Cameron, at that moment the centre of a group of open admirers, his boyish face all aglow with animation.

For the time being it seemed as if he had forgotten the terrible catastrophe overhanging him.