With every thought centered in Mr. Ewart at that moment, and comprehending as I did the logical result of Mrs. Macleod's leaving the manor and all that it would mean to me, I did not realize what impression my impulsive words might make on her son. In the silence that followed my protest, I had time to realize what I had said.
"I did n't for a moment suppose you felt like this, Marcia."
In a flash I understood the twist in his interpretation of my words and feeling.
"You don't understand--" I began vehemently, then found myself hesitating like a schoolgirl who does not know her lesson. I was ashamed of myself, for Jamie was on the wrong track and must be put right at all costs.
"I think I do." He spoke gently, almost pityingly as it seemed to me then. I boiled inwardly.
"No, you don't; but there 's no time to explain now--I hear the bells--"
"They 're coming! Where 's Mrs. Macleod?"
"Well, they 're not returning from an ocean voyage, even if they are coming; there is no need to run up the Union Jack-- Hold on a minute!" He barred the door again with his long arms.
I slipped quickly under his arm into the passageway. The dogs were frantic with joy. I wanted to show mine as plainly, perhaps then Jamie might understand! I flung open the door, and, as it happened my voice was the only one to welcome them.
"You may well say that," said the Doctor, running up the steps and seeming to bring the whole Arctic region of cold in with him; "I drove over and made good time, I thought; but Ewart took the reins on the way back, and we came home at a clip--nine miles in fifty-two minutes! That's a record. Now, Ewart," he turned to speak to his friend who had stopped to give some order to Cale, "see how well I have heeded your injunction to 'look out' for Miss Farrell."
"And the horses did n't bolt," I said, as I put my hand into his outstretched one.
"Have you gotten over the effects of the aurora?"
The hearty gladness in his voice was reward enough for the restraint I put on myself. I wanted to give him both hands and tell him in so many words that, with his coming, I was "at home" again.
"No, and never shall," I responded joyfully.
"Nor I either.-- Where 's Jamie? Oh, Mrs. Macleod," he said, spying her on the upper landing, "I 've taken you unawares for the first time.--Down, comrades, down!--Jamie Macleod, is this the way you welcome a wanderer to his own hearth?"