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Allan, now that he was certain of Phyllis's safety, paid them not the least attention. "Did you mean it?" he said passionately. "Tell me, did you mean what you said?" Phyllis dropped her dishevelled head on Allan's shoulder. "I'm afraid I'm going to cry, and and I know you don't like it!" she panted. Allan half drew, half guided her up into his arms.
They were led by Allan MacDonald of Kingsborough; and tradition gives us a stirring picture of Allan's wife the famous Flora MacDonald, who in Scotland had protected the Young Pretender in his flight making an impassioned address in Gaelic to the Highland soldiers and urging them on to die for honor's sake.
This watch was a very good timekeeper, being by one of the best London makers; and, hitherto, had maintained an irreproachable character in this respect, the cook at home, whenever the kitchen clock went wrong, always appealing to me to know what was the correct time, with the flattering compliment that "Master Allan's watch, at all events," was "sure to be right!"
Allan's dimples were as sweet and sudden as ever, her eyes as clear and bright and true; and what her face lacked of girlish beauty was now more than atoned for in added tenderness and strength. "I suppose you are looking forward to your vacation, Anne?" she said, as they left the graveyard. Anne nodded. "Yes. . . . I could roll the word as a sweet morsel under my tongue.
All happy dreams are short enough. Allan's was dissipated by a sound of suppressed weeping. He looked cautiously around, and on the clean, brown ground beneath the pines, a little in advance of him, he saw a woman sitting. Her back was against the trunk of a large tree, her face was turned quite away from him, but he knew it was Mary Campbell.
"Having told me this, nearly in the words in which I have written it, he gave me the written paper that lay on the table between us. "'Read it, he said; 'and you will not need to be told that my mind is at peace again, and that I took Allan's hand at parting with a heart that was worthier of Allan's love. "I read the letter.
Midwinter smiled, and came to his friend's assistance with the natural neat-handedness of a sailor. The first object that he encountered was Allan's dressing-case, turned upside down, with half the contents scattered on the floor, and with a duster and a hearth-broom lying among them.
We were received by Sir Thomas Butler, Sir Allan's son-in-law, whom I had met with before on the evening of my arrival at Castle Bellingham.
"How is the missus?" she repeated, with an angry toss of her head, as the boy ran off. "If it would only please God to take the missus, it would be a blessing to everybody in the house." No such ill-omened shadow as this had passed over the bright domestic picture of the inhabitants of the cottage, which Allan's enthusiasm had painted for the contemplation of his friend.
Everything that he had noticed below stairs suggested that there was some secret purpose to be answered by getting Allan to sleep in the Sanitarium. Everything that he had noticed above stairs associated the lurking-place in which the danger lay hid with Allan's room.
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