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Updated: June 16, 2025
She saw Robert and did not answer. Then Eric saw him. He smiled; but Mary grew very pale. Robert came forward, stooped and kissed Ericson's forehead, kneeled and kissed Mary's hand, rose and went out. From that moment they were both dead to him. Dead, I say not lost, not estranged, but dead that is, awful and holy. He wept for Eric. He did not weep for Mary yet. But he found a time.
Anderson thought it well that he should have another year at the grammar-school before going to college. Robert now occupied Ericson's room, and left his own to Shargar. Robert heard every week from Miss St. John about Ericson. Her reports varied much; but on the whole he got a little better as the winter went on.
Hamilton rang the bell, and a man brought in the coffee and rolls which constituted the Dictator's simple breakfast. While he was eating it he glanced over the letters that had come. 'Better refuse all these invitations, Hamilton. Hamilton expostulated. He was Ericson's intimate and adviser, as well as secretary. 'Do you think that is the best thing to do? he suggested.
Lindsay followed with an old tale of the Sinclairs, of which he said Ericson's reminded him, though the sole association was that the foregoing was a Caithness story, and the Sinclairs are a Caithness family. As soon as it was over, Mysie, who could not hide all her impatience during its lingering progress, asked Robert to play again.
"I'm one o' Miss Ericson's tenants. Look after one of her places. I did own the place myself once, but I lost it a while back, in the bad years just after the World's Fair. Just as well, too, I say. Lets you out o' payin' taxes. The Ericsons do own most of the county now.
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