Beg recovered
its smile of sunshiny peace, and the hills at the head of it took their
summer colors, lovely and calm, even as, year after year, these friends
had watched them throughout their two lives, of which both were now
keenly beginning to feel the greater part lay, not before them, but
behind. But in thinking of this boy they felt young again, as if he
brought to one the hope, to the other the faint recollection of
happiness that in the great mystery of Providence to each had been
personally denied.

And yet they were not unhappy. Helen was not. No one could look into
her face--strongly marked, but rosy-complexioned, health, and comely
--the sort of large comeliness which belongs to her peculiar type of
Scotch women, especially in their middle age--without seeing that
life was to her not only duty, but enjoyment--ay, in spite of the
widow's cap, which marked her out as one who permanently belonged and
meant to belong only to her son.

And the earl, though he was getting to look old--older than Helen did
--for his black curls were turning gray, and the worn and withered
features, contrasting with the small childish figure, gave him a weird
sort of aspect that struck almost painfully at first upon strangers,
still Lord Cairnforth preserved the exceeding sweetness and peacefulness
of expression which had made his face so beautiful as a boy, and so
winning as a young man.

"He'll ne'er be an auld man," sometimes said the folk about Cairnforth,
shaking their heads as they looked after him, and speculating for how
many years the feeble body would hold out. Also, perhaps--for
self-interest is bound up in the heart of every human being--feeling
a little anxiety as to who should come after him, to be lord and ruler
over them; perhaps to be less loved, less honored--more so none could
possibly be.

It was comfort to those who loved him then, and far more comfort
afterward to believe--nay, to know for certain--that many a man,
absorbed in the restless struggle of this busy world, prosperous
citizen, husband and father, had, on the whole, led a far less happy
life than the Earl of Cairnforth.

Chapter 16

One mild, sunny autumn day, when Cardross, having ended his first
session at college, had spent apparently with extreme enjoyment his
first vacation at home, and had just gone back again to Edinburg to
commence his second "year," the Earl of Cairnforth drove down to the
Manse, as he now did almost daily