He leaned forward and put out his hand; Allan clasped and kissed it. "No
man could have a wiser or a kinder father. I will do whatever you advise,
sir."
"You will not require to go to Fife again, I hope?"
"I promised to go there again. I must keep my word. It would be cruel to
drop out of so dear a life, and if she loves me, give her neither hope nor
promise."
"Write."
"I promised to go."
"Then keep your word. I can depend upon you. If you say anything to her,
tell the whole truth. Allan, I am not asking more from you than I have
already given. Some years ago, I met again bonnie Jessie Russell. She was
my first love. I nearly broke my heart about her. The old affection came
back to both of us. I could have married her then, but she was a widow
with four children. I would not divide your inheritance. I put down my own
longing, and thought only of you, and of Drumloch. Love is meant to
comfort and brighten life, but not to rule it like a despot. I have had my
say. Good night, Allan."
He rose and went slowly out of the room, and he stopped at the easel and
looked again at the pictured woman upon it. "Does she know who you are,
Allan?" he asked.
"She knows only that my name is Campbell."
"Do not tell her more. When a love affair gets named, it travels far. I
draw many sailors from the Fife sea-towns. We don't want strangers to
discuss our personal affairs;"--and leaning upon Allan's arm, he passed
out of the room, in which he had not only bravely buried his own desires,
but also, wisely and kindly accepted others materially altering the few
years of life left him. But oh, how selfish is youth! Only one thing is
indispensable to it, the need of being happy at any cost. How good is God
to those whom he permits to ripen into middle, and old age, and become
mellow, and generous, and self-forgetting!
It will be seen, then, that John Campbell was not one of those
money-makers with stunted senses, and incomplete natures, for whom all the
grapes in the garden of God are sour. He had loved and suffered, the songs
of his native land had sweet echoes in his heart, he could appreciate
beauty, he delighted in color, he had learned the blessedness of giving
and forgiving, he had found out that with renunciation the higher life
begins. When Allan told him in the morning that he was going to Fife, he
accepted the information pleasantly, as part of an understood arrangement.
"Will you be long away, Allan?"
"A few days, sir."