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Updated: June 9, 2025
Christina's whole interest in men was the admiration she looked for and was sure of receiving from them; Mercy had hitherto found their company stupid. Silence lasted until they reached the shoulder of the hill that closed the view up the valley. As they rounded it, the sun went behind a cloud, and a chill wind, as if from a land where dwelt no life, met them.
"You brought us all these troubles, you wretched boy!" he would say. "Don't talk to me of patience. Why don't you pray to your angel for curses, and then we may have some good luck again? As it is, you might as well pray to the Devil himself." But the child only drew Christina's head closer to his poor little misshapen breast, and whispered to her, "It is not so, is it, little mother?"
To aid her aunt in all house-wifely arts, to prepare dainty food and varied liquors, and to spin, weave, and broider, was only a part of Christina's training; her uncle likewise set great store by her sweet Italian voice, and caused her to be carefully taught to sing and play on the lute, and he likewise delighted in hearing her read aloud to him from the hereditary store of MSS. and from the dark volumes that began to proceed from the press.
And perhaps it was out of a little feeling of weariness of the theme, that Marget finally reminded her friend that she would be "lonely enough wanting her daughter," adding, "I was hearing too, that Andrew is not to be kept single much longer; and it will be what no one expects if Sophy Traill ever fills Christina's shoes." "Sophy is well enough," answered Janet with a touch of pride.
She knew the girls gossiped about her sudden change of heart, and her relation to Gavin was no secret. For the Aunties had been too happy to keep from telling, and Mrs. Sutherland had not been guiltless of making Christina's faithlessness public. The girls were rather inclined to feel sorry for Christina.
Nevertheless for his own part he thought his letter rather a good one, and congratulated himself in particular upon his cleverness in inventing the story of a previous attachment, behind which he intended to shelter himself if Christina should complain of any lack of fervour in his behaviour to her. I need not give Christina's answer, which of course was to accept.
But before chanting the service he went up to the patient's bed and clasped his hands in amazement. "She was covered with filth indeed, but all was changed. The smell, which had been supernaturally foul, was changed to angelic fragrance; Christina's saintly resignation had routed the tempter of souls; and they all joined in praising God. What do you say to that narrative?"
"It simplified matters," he had said to himself, "a good deal." Ernest was civil to Mrs Goodhew for her husband's sake, but he gave Miss Wright the cut direct, for he knew that she was only Charlotte in disguise. A week passed slowly away. Two or three times the family took the sacrament together round Christina's death-bed.
"I'll give you a bawbee for the sense of your words, Tim," answered Janet; and she hastened herself and flung the letter into Christina's lap, saying: "Open it, lassie, it will be full of good news. I shouldn't wonder if both lads were on their way home again." "Mother, Mother, they are home; they will be here anon, they will be here this very night.
When he reached Christina's cottage, Sophy had passed beyond all earthly care and love. She heeded not the tenderest words of comfort; her life was inexorably coming to its end; and every one of her muttered words was mysterious, important, wondrous, though they could make out nothing she said, save only that she talked about "angels resting in the hawthorn bowers."
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