United States or Ukraine ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
The house was large and cumbered with furniture too much and too rich for the Scotch countryside. Ian's room had a great, rich bed and a dressing-table that drew from Alexander a whistle, contemplative and scornful. But there were other matters besides luxury of couch and toilet.
It was sweet to Mercy to see in the eyes of Alister, and in his whole bearing toward his younger brother, that he was a learner like herself, that they were scholars together in Ian's school. A hunger after something beyond her, a something she could not have described, awoke in her. She needed a salvation of some kind, toward which she must grow!
Why had she given it? Then the realization that a third party would be unwelcome to her made the flush return and deepen. "Uncle Martin, where is your Mrs.? Barbara said I'd have to ask you 'cause she didn't know," suddenly asked Ian's voice, so close behind them that they both started.
The Earl, who ordinarily bore himself with the solemn dignity of a Castilian grandee, forgot, in his resentment, his wonted gravity, forgot his public character, forgot the laws of hospitality, and, with angry reproaches and menaces, demanded reparation for the herds which had been driven from his lands by Mac Ian's followers.
So long as the blank in her memory continued, she could not be free from care; but she went to sleep that night in Ian's arms, feeling herself protected by them not only from bodily harm, but from all those dreadful fears and evil fantasies that "do assault and hurt the soul."
At this moment of horrible disappointment the house touches something submerged a post, a fence, a mound; he knows not nor cares what which checks the divergence and turns the house back in the right direction. What a rebound there is in Ian's heart!
Perhaps it was the smile that checked the savage perhaps it was the words, "Thou shalt not kill," which had been sounded in his ears more than once during the past winter by the missionary. At all events, the fatal trigger was not drawn. Ian's contemplations were not disturbed, the gun was lowered, and the savage melted once more into the deep shade of the thicket.
The cartel bore date the 1st of January later by a month than the Black Hill letter. It dropped from Ian's hand; he sat with blankness of mind in the sunlight. Presently he shivered slightly. He leaned his elbows on his knees and his forehead in his hands and sat still. Alexander! He felt no hot straining toward meeting, toward fighting, Alexander.
She began to hope her feeling of anxiety and depression might be only the shadow of the fear and anguish which she had suffered on that horrible afternoon sixteen months ago. She must try not to think about it, must try to be bright for Ian's sake.
Then he threw a third, and Christina felt her hat caught by a bit of string. She drew it toward her as fast as numbness would permit, and found at the end a small bottle. She managed to get it uncorked, and put it to Ian's lips. He swallowed a mouthful, and made her take some. Hector stood on one side, the chief on the other, and watched the proceeding.
Word Of The Day