Do you see her now, ready to start?  She was wearing her brown jacket with the fur collar, over which she used to look so searchingly at Tommy.  To think there was a time when that serene face had to look searchingly at him!  It nearly made her sad again.  She paused to bring out the ring and take another exultant look at it.  It was attached now to a ribbon round her neck.  Sweet ring!  She put it to her eyes.  That was her way of letting her eyes kiss it Then she rubbed them and it, in case the one had left a tear upon the other.

And then she went out, joy surging in her heart For this was Grizel’s glorious hour, the end of it.

CHAPTER XXIII

TOMMY LOSES GRIZEL

It was not Aaron’s good fortune to find Tommy.  He should have looked for him in the Den.

In that haunt of happier lovers than he, Tommy walked slowly, pondering.  He scarce noticed that he had the Den to himself, or that, since he was last here, autumn had slipped away, leaving all her garments on the ground.  By this time, undoubtedly, Elspeth had said her gentle No; but he was not railing against Fate, not even for striking the final blow at him through that innocent medium.  He had still too much to do for that—­to help others.  There were three of them at present, and by some sort of sympathetic jugglery he had an arm for each.

“Lean on me, Grizel—­dear sister Elspeth, you little know the harm you have done—­David, old friend, your hand.”

Thus loaded, he bravely returned at the fitting time to the cottage.  His head was not even bent.

Had you asked Tommy what Elspeth would probably do when she dismissed David, he might have replied that she would go up to his room and lock herself into it, so that no one should disturb her for a time.  And this he discovered, on returning home, was actually what had happened.  How well he knew her!  How distinctly he heard every beat of her tender heart, and how easy to him to tell why it was beating!  He did not go up; he waited for little Elspeth to come to him, all in her own good time.  And when she came, looking just as he knew she would look, he had a brave, bright face for her.

She was shaking after her excitement, or perhaps she had ceased to shake and begun again as she came down to him.  He pretended not to notice it; he would notice it the moment he was sure she wanted him to, but perhaps that would not be until she was in bed and he had come to say good-night and put out her light, for, as we know, she often kept her great confidences till then, when she discovered that he already knew them.

“The doctor has been in.”

She began almost at once, and in a quaking voice and from a distance, as if in hope that the bullet might be spent before it reached her brother.

“I am sorry I missed him,” he replied cautiously.  “What a fine fellow he is!”