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He was none of those "finest young gents as ever was seen," that existed only in Sarah Emily's imagination; but a real, solid, flesh-and-blood young farmer, none less than Wully Johnstone's Peter, now the eldest son at home, and to whom the farm was to eventually fall.
Excus writin' pleas but I wanted to let yu no for yu was good to me and I luv yu. Becky Weir." Somehow, the little note rested and comforted me, more than I would have imagined, a week before, any expression of this humble disciple of mine could have done. I held the letter crumpled in my hand going up the lane. Going up the lane, too, I met Emily's fisherman coming gayly home from the river. Mr.
M. Barreaux's admiration of her father endeared him extremely to Emily, whose heart found almost its first relief in conversing of her parents, with a man, whom she so much revered, and who, though with such an ungracious appearance, possessed to much goodness of heart and delicacy of mind. Several weeks passed away in quiet retirement, and Emily's affliction began to soften into melancholy.
Sewell, had you seen him after he retired for the night, after he had so very indifferently dismissed the subject of Miss Emily's inquiries.
Her grounds for believing this were, first of all, the fact of Emily frequently uttering his name in her delirium, with words which seemed to refer to some mystery between them; then the circumstance of Mr. Dagworthy's having, shortly after, left a note at the house, with special injunctions to the servant that it should be given into Emily's own hands.
She was at the library in the City, consulting the file of The Times for the year 1877. Emily's first day in the City library proved to be a day wasted. She began reading the back numbers of the newspaper at haphazard, without any definite idea of what she was looking for.
'This is no hour for paying visits, and, indeed, I have to hurry back again. I should like to only to say that you have my very kindest wishes. You forgive my coming; you forgive my hastening away so? 'I feel I ought to thank you more, broke from Emily's lips. 'To me, believe, it is all very like a dream. O, it was kind of you to come!
She was the latest to return. Emily being now at home, there was no longer an excuse for postponing study; books were procured, and Jessie, by way of preparation, endeavoured to fathom the abysses of her ignorance. We have heard Emily's opinion as to the possibility of studious application in the house of the Cartwrights.
She described with equal minuteness the magnificence she had seen, and that from which she had been excluded; while Emily's vivid fancy, as she listened with the ardent curiosity of youth, heightened the scenes she heard of; and Madame St. Aubert, looking on her family, felt, as a tear stole to her eye, that though splendour may grace happiness, virtue only can bestow it.
"I tell ye what, ma'am," she cried in a burst of gratitude, "bad as ye are, other people's worse!" She banged the door and strode off singing loudly: "Timmy eigh timmy um, timmy tum tum tum, Of all false young men to beware! Miss Gordon accepted the doubtfully worded compliment for all it really meant from Sarah Emily's generous heart. But the crudeness of it jarred upon her genteel nerves.
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