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Updated: June 1, 2025


Ye'll be content wi' me, Katie?" "Yes, Donald, if I make you content," she replied; and a look of heavenly peace spread over her face. The next morning Katie went alone to Elspie's grave. It seemed to her that only there could she venture to look her new future in the face. As she knelt by the low mound, her tears falling fast, she murmured, "Eh, my bonny Elspie, ye'd the best o' his love.

"No, I thank you," said the stranger, in the unmistakable northern tongue, which, falling from poor Elspie's lips, had made the music of Olive's childhood, and to which her heart yearned evermore. "Miss Rothesay, will you, for your father's sake, let me shake hands with his child? I am Mrs. Gwynne." Thus it was that Olive received the first greeting of Harold's mother.

"Them Lindsay lassies are that bonnie, I jist like to sit and look at them, even in church when I ought to be looking at my Bible." It was Miss Flora Grant's soft voice that came through the screen of sumach and alder. "They've all taken after their mother's folks." It was Miss Elspie's still softer voice. "The MacDonald women of that family was all good lookin'." "Well, my grief!

It had always been her custom to creep to Elspie's bed as soon as she awoke, but now she did so long before daylight, in answer to a faint summons. "I want ye, my bairn. Ye'll come to your auld nurse's arms maybe they'll no haud ye lang," murmured Elspie. She clasped the child once, with an almost passionate tenderness, and then, turning away, dropped heavily asleep. But Olive did not sleep.

Nevertheless Dan was not quite happy. He could not get rid of the memory of Henri Perrin's murder, and the terrible thought that Elspie's brother Duncan had some sort of guilty knowledge of it. These thoughts he buried deep, however, in his own breast, and even tried to forget them.

They shared a room at the end of the hall and Auntie Elspie's room was opposite his. It was quite late when finally he heard her come up to bed. But yet he could not sleep. His window-blind was rolled to the top and the moonlight flooded his room. Outside the diamond-spangled earth lay still and frost bound. Craig-Ellachie stood out white, silver-crowned, against the blue of the forest.

"Cecilia Osborne," said I. "What did you think of her, Elspie?" The iron went up and down the Vicar's shirt-front, and I saw a curious gathering together of old Elspie's lips still she did not speak. At last Sophy said, "Couldn't you make up your mind about her, Elspie?" "I had nae mickle fash about that, Mrs Sophy," said Elspeth, setting down her iron on the stand with something like a bang.

"What can that be, now?" exclaimed Donald. Before the words had left his lips, Katie cried, "It's a bee! Elspie's spinning-bee." The spinning-bees are great fêtes among the industrious maidens of Prince Edward Island. After the spring shearings are over, the wool washed and carded and made into rolls, there begin to circulate invitations to spinning-bees at the different farm-houses.

Now don't torment me any more about her. But I must go down stairs." She danced across the room in a graceful waltzing step, held out her hand towards the child, and touched one so tiny, cold, and damp, that she felt half inclined to take and warm it in her own. But Elspie's hawk-eyes were watching her, and she was ashamed.

Yet she was conscious of strange and delicious sensations, when in the early days of spring she had at length conquered Elspie's fears about wet feet and muddy fields, and had gone with her nurse to take the first meadow ramble; she could not help bounding to pluck every daisy she saw; and when the violets came, and the primroses, she was out of her wits with joy.

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