"
"Of course not. I should not think of interfering between you and him.
I wish I could help you!"
"I wish you could, old fellow. But you need not look so serious."
"How you can be so gay and careless over it, I cannot imagine," said
Arthur.
Hamish laughed. "If there's only a little patch of sunshine as large as
a man's hand, I am sure to see it and trust to it."
"Is there any sunshine in this?"
"A little bit: and I hope it will help me out of it. I am sure I was
born with a large share of hope in my composition."
"Show me the bit of sunshine, Hamish."
"I can't do that," was the answer. "I fear it is not so much actual
sunshine that's to be seen yet--only its reflection. You could not see
it at all, Arthur; but I, as I tell you, am extravagantly hopeful."
The same ever-gay tone, the same pleasant smile, accompanied the words.
And yet, at that moment, instead of walking straightforward into the
open space beyond the elm-trees, as Arthur did, Hamish withdrew his arm
from his brother's, and halted under their shade, peering cautiously
around. They were then within view of their own door.
"What are you looking at?"
"To make sure that the coast is clear. I heard to-day--Arthur, I know
that I shall shock you--that a fellow had taken out a writ against me.
I don't want, to get it served, if I can help it."
Arthur was indeed shocked. "Oh, Hamish!" was all he uttered. But the
tone betrayed a strange amount of pain mingled with reproach.
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