"Preserve us! Why shouldn't it be handled? It is pure selfishness. She is against sharing her pleasure with any other soul. That is the because of her ill-natured conduct. See that dinner is ready punctual. Your brother was in one of his north-easter tempers this morning, and the day's work isn't likely to have sorted him any better."

Then half-reluctantly she went upstairs. She would rather have remained with Isabel and talked affairs over again; but Isabel was depressed and not inclined to conversation. The old lady wondered, as she slowly climbed the stairs, "What the young people of this generation were made of?" She felt that she had more enthusiasm than either of her daughters, and then sighed deeply, because it received so little sympathy.

CHAPTER VIII

A RUNAWAY BRIDE

At seven precisely Mrs. Campbell re-entered the dining-room. Isabel was already there, and Jepson was bringing in the broth. Neither Robert nor Christina was present, and she wondered a little, but asked no questions. In a few moments Theodora took her place, and without remark permitted Jepson to serve her. But she was evidently in trouble, and she did not touch the food before her. At length Mrs. Campbell asked:

"Where is Robert? Is he not ready for dinner?"

"He is asleep. I suppose he is not ready for dinner."

"What time did he return home?"

"Very early. He said he was sleepy. He is always sleepy. I fear he is ill, a healthy man cannot always be needing sleep."

"The Campbells, all of them, are famous for their ability to sleep. They can sleep at all hours, and in any place--a four-inch-wide plank would suffice them for a sofa. They can order a sleep whenever they desire, and it comes. It is very remarkable."

"Very," answered Theodora, in a tone of unavoidable contempt.

"I have heard people say it was a great gift, and it is quite a family gift."

"I hope my little David will not inherit it," said Theodora.

"There is nothing of the Campbell family about the boy," replied Mrs.

Campbell.

Theodora did not say she was glad, but she looked the words, and her expression of satisfaction was annoying to both Isabel and her mother.

The former said with petulant decision:

"I can sleep at any time I wish. I think this family trait is a great and peculiar blessing."

"Circ.u.mstances may sometimes make it so, Isabel," answered Theodora, "but I would rather wake and suffer, than sink into animal unconsciousness half my life. Robert has slept, or pretended to sleep, twelve hours out of the last twenty-four, and he does not even dream."

"Dream!" cried Mrs. Campbell in disgust, "dream, I hope not! Only fools dream. My children go to bed for the purpose of sleeping. Dream indeed!

The Campbells have good sense, and they don't lose it when they sleep."

"Oh, but I think dreaming is one of the most sensible things we do. The soul is comforted by dreaming, instructed and warned by dreaming. I should feel spiritually dead, if the blessed, prophesying dreams failed to visit me."

"I wonder where Christina is taking dinner," said Mrs. Campbell. She refused to continue a conversation so senseless and disagreeable, and her way of doing so, was not only to ignore Theodora's topic, but also to introduce a subject which she considered important and interesting.

And of course Christina's dinner was a matter that put dreaming out of court and question.

Isabel thought she was dining with the Brodies, and Mrs. Campbell said, "In that case she ought to have sent a message to her family."

"She is so occupied, mother, she forgets. We must make some allowances at this time."

"Of course, Isabel. I expect to do so."

Then the door was suddenly thrown open and Robert entered. His face was dark, he was biting his thumbnail, and his eyes were full of a dull fire. He had not a word for any one but Jepson, whom he ordered to remove the broth. "The house smells of it," he said with an air of disgust. He ate what dinner he took without speaking, an act Gothic, almost brutal, when it can be avoided, but none of the three women cared to break the silence, lest they might turn silence into visible, audible anger.

Theodora made a pretence of eating, but it was only a pretence and she left the room as soon as the cloth was drawn. Robert did not in any way notice her departure, but he began a grumbling kind of conversation with his mother, as soon as the three Campbells were alone. He said he was worn out with the expense and rioting anent Christina's marriage. It had been fine dinners, and suppers, and fooleries of all kinds for weeks, and more weeks, and money wasting away like water running into sand. He saw no good coming of it. He was glad the end was in sight, etc., etc.--grumble, grumble, grumble, his voice never lifted above a deep, sulky monotone, his face dark with frowns and discontent.

He was so ill-tempered Mrs. Campbell thought it best to leave him alone with his cigar. It seemed better to worry out her anxieties with Isabel, who, however, was not in a mood to talk them away. "I am so depressed, mother," she complained. "I hardly know what I am saying. I feel as if I had a great sorrow. The room is dark, the air heavy, the whole house feels full of trouble. It is crowded, too. With a little effort I feel that I could see the crowd. Do you understand?"

"My G.o.d! Isabel, control yourself. We want no Second Sight here. The Argyle Campbells are great seers, and you must close your ears to their whisperings, and whatever sights are under your eye-b.a.l.l.s, deny them vision. You must, you must! For, as your grandfather, Ivan Campbell, used to say, 'the Second Sight, children, isna a blessing, it is aye dool and sorrow, or ill chance it shows you.'"

"Mother, I must tell you the truth. I am unhappy about Christina."

"So am I."

"She ought to have sent us a message. She would, had it been possible.

Oh, mother, what or who prevented her?"

"Perhaps she did. Have you asked Scot?"

"No, but if any message had been sent by him he would have told Jepson at once, and Jepson heard our conversation about her absence at the dinner table, yet he made no remark."

"What do you fear?"

"My fear has no form. That is what frightens me. If I knew----"

"You are nervous, Isabel, very nervous. She left home well, and in good spirits."

"I never saw her in better health, or finer spirits."

"Do you not remember, that she once stayed at Colonel Allison's till near midnight, without sending us any message? We were in a fright about her at that time."

"But you commanded her never to do the like again."

"Christina has not obeyed my commands very particularly of late. They do not seem important to her."

"She has had so much to do, and she knew Sir Thomas would not be in Glasgow to-night. If I knew she was well and safe, I should be glad she was not here, for this is an unhappy house with Robert in the devil's own temper, and Dora looking like the grave."

"Dora makes Robert ill-tempered. It is all her fault, and we have to suffer for it."

"She evidently suffers also."

"She deserves to suffer."

"Suppose we send for Scot. He must be in the stable yet."

"As you like."