Miss Caprice Part 41

"Yes; I can offer no objection. Do as you think best, doctor."

This is a beautiful beginning. Clouds will be rare in their future if they keep on in this way.

So they once more go back to the hotel, and find Aunt Gwen on the lookout, her kindly face wearing an anxious expression that becomes a quizzical one when she sees John smile.

"Your blessing, Aunt Gwen," he says.

"My what?"

"Oh! it's all settled. Ruth has promised to be my wife," continues John, looking very happy.

"The d.i.c.kens she has!" and Philander pushes into view from behind the voluminous skirts of his better half. "What business has she to accept any one without consulting her doting--"

"Philander!"

"--Aunt? Don't take me seriously, my boy. Accept my congratulations, wish you joy, and thank Heaven it isn't that pompous baronet."

"Amen!" says John, warmly.

"Now that you allow me a chance, Philander, I want to say just this: it suits me to a dot. I'm delighted--enchanted. Of course you'll live in Chicago. That's another blow against John Bull. We'll be mistress of the seas yet. Here, let me kiss you both, my children, and take the blessing of a woman who has not lived fifty years for nothing."

CHAPTER XXII.

THE WEAVER--FATE!

Even in the midst of his happiness John Craig has not forgotten the one important fact that brought him to Algiers.

While he can devote himself to laying a plan for the accomplishment of a certain object, and with the a.s.sistance of Lady Ruth arrange to surprise Sir Lionel Blunt, he is at the same time anxiously awaiting news.

Will old Ben Taleb carry out his promise? The heart of the young man beats high with hope.

Unconscious of a great surprise in store for him, John enters the hotel with Lady Ruth.

"A gentleman in the parlor to see you, sir."

John's face flashes; the instantaneous thought flashes into his mind that a messenger has at length come from the Moorish doctor.

He enters.

His eyes are dazzled a little by the glare of the sun on white buildings, and the room is dim. A man's figure advances toward him.

Surely that step is familiar. Good heavens, what a shock comes upon him!

"Father!"

"John, my boy!"

He has believed this father to be at the other side of the world. He is surprised at the warmth of the greeting he receives. Really, this is quite unlike the proud man John has known all his life, a man who seemed to ever surround himself with a wall of coldness.

A sudden shock runs through John's frame. It is as if he has been given the negative and positive ends of a battery. He believes that his mother is here, in this city. Can that have anything to do with his father's coming?

A feeling of resentment springs up, then dies away as he gets a good look at his parent's face.

"Father, what has happened? Have you failed; has any disaster come upon us?"

"Why do you ask that, John?"

"Your face; it is changed so. I miss something I have been accustomed to see there."

Duncan Craig smiles.

"Ah! John, my boy, please Heaven, I am changed. I have been humbled in the dust, and I believe I have emerged from the furnace, I trust, a far better man."

John is puzzled. He cannot make out what has caused this humbling on the part of his proud paternal ancestor, nor is he able to hazard a guess as to the effect it may have upon his fortunes.

Craig, Sr., does not explain what brings him to Algiers at this particular time, but immediately starts asking questions regarding the scenes John has gazed upon since leaving the German college of medicine where he received his graduation diploma.

While they are yet talking, who should appear on the scene but Lady Ruth.

"You carried off my fan, John, and I wanted to mend it while I had the chance. Oh! I beg your pardon; I did not know you were engaged. The clerk told me you were in here, but--"

John has eagerly darted forward and has hold of the fair girl's arm.

"I want to introduce some one to you, some one you would see sooner or later. Sir, this is Lady Ruth Stanhope, a young lady to whom I have lost my heart, and my promised wife."

"What!" exclaimed Craig, Sr., "bless my soul, you're only a boy, John."

"Twenty-three, sir," promptly.

"Yes, you're right. Time flies. You've given me quite a little shock, but, by Jove! I'm already favorably impressed with your taste. Will you allow me the privilege of a kiss, my dear?"

"Sir!" indignantly, for in the dim light she does not see that his mustache is snow-white, as is also his hair.

Her tragic att.i.tude rather alarms John.

"Ruth, it's my father!" he cries.

This alters the case.

"Your father! Oh! John, has he--" She sees the warning finger her betrothed raises up, and stops suddenly, for she has been about to say something relative to the presence of Sister Magdalen in the city.

The elder Craig raises the shade, and in the new light Lady Ruth sees a remarkably handsome man of middle age, even distinguished in his manner.

Then he is John's father, too, and that makes quite a difference. She approaches, with hand extended.

"Forgive me, sir. I did not dream John's father was within five thousand miles of Algiers."