CHAPTER XVI. AULD LANG SYNE.

quepattern,andthemassivepotofthesamemetal,tothethinporcelaincups,darkwithpurpleandgilding.Iknewtheveryseed-cakeofpeculiarform,bakedinapeculiarmould,whichalwayshadaplaceonthetea-tableatBretton.Grahamlikedit,andthereitwasasofyore—setbeforeGraham’splatewiththesilverknifeandforkbesideit.Grahamwasthenexpectedtotea:Grahamwasnow,perhaps,inthehouseeremanyminutesImightseehim. “Sitdown—sitdown,”saidmyconductress,asmystepfalteredalittleinpassingtothehearth.Sheseatedmeonthesofa,butIsoonpassedbehindit,sayingthefirewastoohotinitsshadeIfoundanotherseatwhichsuitedmebetter.Mrs.Brettonwasneverwonttomakeafussaboutanypersonoranythingwithoutremonstranceshesufferedmetohavemyownway.Shemadethetea,andshetookupthenewspaper.Ilikedtowatcheveryactionofmygodmotherallhermovementsweresoyoung:shemusthavebeennowabovefifty,yetneitherhersinewsnorherspiritseemedyettouchedbytherustofage.Thoughportly,shewasalert,andthoughserene,shewasattimesimpetuous—goodhealthandanexcellenttemperamentkepthergreenasinherspring. Whilesheread,Iperceivedshelistened—listenedforherson.Shewasnotthewomanevertoconfessherselfuneasy,buttherewasyetnolullintheweather,andifGrahamwereoutinthathoarsewind—roaringstillunsatisfied—Iwellknewhismother’sheartwouldbeoutwithhim. “Tenminutesbehindhistime,”saidshe,lookingatherwatchthen,inanotherminute,aliftingofhereyesfromthepage,andaslightinclinationofherheadtowardsthedoor,denotedthatsheheardsomesound.Presentlyherbrowclearedandthenevenmyear,lesspractised,caughttheironclashofagateswungto,stepsongravel,lastlythedoor-bell.Hewascome.Hismotherfilledtheteapotfromtheurn,shedrewnearerthehearththestuffedandcushionedbluechair—herownchairbyright,butIsawtherewasonewhomightwithimpunityusurpit.Andwhenthatonecameupthestairs—whichhesoondid,after,Isuppose,somesuchattentiontothetoiletasthewildandwetnightrenderednecessary,andstrodestraightin— “Isityou,Graham?”saidhismother,hidingagladsmileandspeakingcurtly. “Whoelseshoulditbe,mamma?”demandedtheUnpunctual,possessinghimselfirreverentlyoftheabdicatedthrone. “Don’tyoudeservecoldtea,forbeinglate?” “Ishallnotgetmydeserts,fortheurnsingscheerily.” “Wheelyourselftothetable,lazyboy:noseatwillserveyoubutmineifyouhadonesparkofasenseofpropriety,youwouldalwaysleavethatchairfortheOldLady.” “SoIshouldonlythedearOldLadypersistsinleavingitforme.Howisyourpatient,mamma?” “Willshecomeforwardandspeakforherself?”saidMrs.Bretton,turningtomycornerandatthisinvitation,forwardIcame.Grahamcourteouslyroseuptogreetme.Hestoodtallonthehearth,afigurejustifyinghismother’sunconcealedpride. “Soyouarecomedown,”saidhe“youmustbebetterthen—muchbetter.Iscarcelyexpectedweshouldmeetthus,orhere.Iwasalarmedlastnight,andifIhadnotbeenforcedtohurryawaytoadyingpatient,Icertainlywouldnothaveleftyoubutmymotherherselfissomethingofadoctress,andMarthaanexcellentnurse.Isawthecasewasafainting-fit,notnecessarilydangerous.Whatbroughtiton,Ihaveyettolearn,andallparticularsmeantime,Itrustyoureallydofeelbetter?” “Muchbetter,”Isaidcalmly.“Muchbetter,Ithankyou,Dr.John.” For,reader,thistallyoungman—thisdarlingson—thishostofmine—thisGrahamBretton,wasDr.John:he,andnootherand,whatismore,Iascertainedthisidentityscarcelywithsurprise.Whatismore,whenIheardGraham’ssteponthestairs,Iknewwhatmanneroffigurewouldenter,andforwhoseaspecttopreparemyeyes.Thediscoverywasnotofto-day,itsdawnhadpenetratedmyperceptionslongsince.OfcourseIrememberedyoungBrettonwellandthoughtenyears(fromsixteentotwenty-six)maygreatlychangetheboyastheymaturehimtotheman,yettheycouldbringnosuchutterdifferenceaswouldsufficewhollytoblindmyeyes,orbafflemymemory.Dr.JohnGrahamBrettonretainedstillanaffinitytotheyouthofsixteen:hehadhiseyeshehadsomeofhisfeaturestowit,alltheexcellently-mouldedlowerhalfofthefaceIfoundhimoutsoon.Ifirstrecognisedhimonthatoccasion,notedseveralchaptersback,whenmyunguardedly-fixedattentionhaddrawnonmethemortificationofanimpliedrebuke.Subsequentobservationconfirmed,ineverypoint,thatearlysurmise.Itracedinthegesture,theport,andthehabitsofhismanhood,allhisboy’spromise.Iheardinhisnowdeeptonestheaccentofformerdays.Certainturnsofphrase,peculiartohimofold,werepeculiartohimstillandsowasmanyatrickofeyeandlip,manyasmile,manyasuddenraylevelledfromtheirid,underhiswell-characteredbrow. Tosayanythingonthesubject,tohintatmydiscovery,hadnotsuitedmyhabitsofthought,orassimilatedwithmysystemoffeeling.Onthecontrary,Ihadpreferredtokeepthemattertomyself.Ilikedenteringhispresencecoveredwithacloudhehadnotseenthrough,whilehestoodbeforemeunderarayofspecialilluminationwhichshoneallpartialoverhishead,trembledabouthisfeet,andcastlightnofarther. WellIknewthattohimitcouldmakelittledifference,wereItocomeforwardandannounce,“ThisisLucySnowe!”SoIkeptbackinmyteacher’splaceandasheneveraskedmyname,soInevergaveit.Heheardmecalled“Miss,”and“MissLucy”heneverheardthesurname,“Snowe.”Astospontaneousrecognition—thoughI,perhaps,wasstilllesschangedthanhe—theideaneverapproachedhismind,andwhyshouldIsuggestit? Duringtea,Dr.Johnwaskind,asitwashisnaturetobethatmealover,andthetraycarriedout,hemadeacosyarrangementofthecushionsinacornerofthesofa,andobligedmetosettleamongstthem.Heandhismotheralsodrewtothefire,anderewehadsattenminutes,Icaughttheeyeofthelatterfastenedsteadilyuponme.Womenarecertainlyquickerinsomethingsthanmen. “Well,”sheexclaimed,presently,“Ihaveseldomseenast