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Updated: May 16, 2025
Ailsa stood with one hand resting on the mantel, a trifle pale but also silent, her startled eyes following this new incarnation wearing the familiar shape of Celia Craig. "Ailsa!" "Yes, dear." "Can you think evil of a people who po' out their hearts in prayer and praise? Do traitors importune fo' blessings?"
And, oh, the time had sped too fast for her, and her heart failed her for all the things that remained unsaid all the kindness she had meant to give him, all the counsel, the courage, the deep sympathy, the deeper friendship. But her hand lay limply, coldly in his; her lips were mute, tremulously curving; her eyes asked nothing more. "Good night, Ailsa." "Good night."
Little Mac, he lets 'em stay there till he's good 'n' ready to gobble 'em." Ailsa and Letty stared at the bluish hill, the top of which just showed above the forest. A young soldier of engineers, carrying a bundle of axes, came along the road, singing in a delightful tenor voice the hymn, "Arise, My Soul, Arise!"
Ailsa laughed, then, smiling reflectively, glanced at her hand which still bore the traces of a healed scar. Celia noticed her examining the slender, uplifted hand, and said: "You promised to tell me how you got that scar, Honey-bud." "I will, now because the man who caused it has gone North." "A man!" "Yes, poor fellow. When the dressings were changed the agony crazed him and he sometimes bit me.
The coast of Ayr, with the cliff near the birthplace of Burns, continued long in sight; we passed near the mountains of Arran, high and bare steeps swelling out of the sea, which had a look of almost complete solitude; and at length Ailsa Craig began faintly to show itself, high above the horizon, through the thick atmosphere.
And then, how the sea spreads away to the far horizon, a glorious pavement of crimson and gold! and how the dark Ailsa rises in the midst, like the little cloud seen by the prophet! The mind seems to enlarge, the heart to expand, in the contemplation of so much of beauty and grandeur. The soul asserts its due supremacy. And, oh!
And still she had never yet told Celia about Hallam and his ring; never told her about Berkley and his visit to the Farm Hospital that Christmas Eve of bitter memory. So when, unexpectedly, Hallam rode into the court, dismounted, and sent word that he was awaiting Ailsa in Dr. West's office, she looked up at Celia in guilty consternation.
I " she stopped short, appalled at the terrible change that was coming over his face. "I want to see Phil " he whispered. "Yes yes, I will find him," she said soothingly; "I will go immediately and find him." His head was moving slowly, monotonously, from side to side. "I want to see my boy," he murmured. "He is my son. I wish you to know it my only son." He lifted his brilliant eyes to Ailsa.
The boy said calmly: "Mother, you don't understand; and all the rest of the South is like you." "Does anybody understand, Steve?" asked his father, slightly ironical. "Some people understand there's going to be a big fight," said the boy. "Oh. Do you?" "Yes," he said, with the conviction of youth. "And I'm wondering who's going to be in it." "The militia, of course," observed Ailsa scornfully.
Ailsa, nervous and excited, nodded; the suddenness of departure was beginning to stimulate her.
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