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Updated: May 12, 2025
"There's a recompense," said Miss Craydocke. "You'll have got it all then. You'll know there's never a fifty or a sixty years that doesn't hold the tens and the twenties." "I've found out something," said Sin Saxon, as she came back to the girls again. "A picked-up dinner argues a fresh one some time. You can't have cold roast mutton unless it has once been hot!"
And, Miss Craydocke, if you do manage about the chicken, I hate to trouble you to go downstairs, but I dare say you want matches, or a drink of water, or something, and another time I'll wait upon you with pleasure, here's the door, made for the emergency, and I on the other side of it dissolved in tears of gratitude!" And so, for the time, Sin Saxon disappeared.
"It was a piece of good luck, too, after all," said Miss Craydocke, in her simple way, never knowing, or choosing to know, that she was snubbed or quizzed. "Looking for a bit of plaster, I found my little parcel of tragacanth that I wanted so the other day. It's queer how things turn up." "Excessively queer," said Sin solemnly, still looking at the injured feature.
But Sin Saxon, when the doors closed at either hand, and the girls alone were left around the fragments of their feast, rushed impetuously across toward Miss Craydocke, and went down beside her on her knees. "Oh, you dear, magnificent old Christian!" she cried out, and laid her head down on her lap, with little sobs, half laughter and half tears.
"We'll change the programme, and put 'Taking the Oath' between. The caps can be different, and you can powder your hair for one, and would it do to ask Miss Craydocke for a front for the other?" Sin Saxon had grown delicate in her feeling for the dear old friend whose hair had once been golden. "I'll tell her about it, and ask her to help me contrive.
"I'm really worried; and it's too late to help it now." Miss Craydocke looked at her with a kind anxiety. "It's never too late to try to help a mistake. And you, Miss Saxon, you can always do what you choose." She was afraid for her, the good lady, that her heedlessness might compromise herself and others in some untoward scrape.
"I thought it was a hay-cutter or a planing-machine, or that you had got the asthma awfully. I couldn't write my letter for listening to it, and came round to ask what was the matter! Miss Craydocke, I don't see why you keep the door bolted on your side. It isn't any more fair for you than for me; and I'm sure I do all the visiting. Besides, it's dangerous.
Sin Saxon had no sauciness to give back for that; it made her feel all at once that this old Miss Craydocke had really been a girl too, with golden hair like her own, perhaps, and not so very far in the past, either, but that a like space in her own future could picture itself to her mind; and something, quite different in her mood from ordinary, made her say, with even an unconscious touch of reverence in her voice: "I wonder if I shall bear it, when it comes, as well as you!"
"We're sure to get the better of Graywacke, and why not anticipate?" "Graywacke?" said Jeannie Hadden. "Is that a name? It sounds like the side of a mountain." "And acts like one," rejoined Sin Saxon. "Won't budge. But it isn't her name, exactly, only Saxon for Craydocke; suggestive of obstinacy and the Old Silurian, an ancient maiden who infests our half the wing.
All they knew about it the most of them was that it was some sort of an out-of-hours frolic, such as boarding-school ne'er-do-weels delight in; and it was to plague Miss Craydocke, against whom, by this time, they had none of them really any manner of spite; neither had they any longer the idea of forcing her to evacuate; but they had got wound up on that key at the beginning, and nobody thought of changing it.
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