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Updated: June 24, 2025
"Forgive me, forgive me, I have vexed you again," said Gilian, contrite. "I should not be so bold." She could not but smile through her tears. "If you will take my heather again and say nothing of it, I will never take the liberty again," he went on, eager to make up for his error. "Then I will not take it," she answered. "It was stupid of me," said he. "It is," she corrected meaningly.
Gilian grew like a sapling in all seasons, in mind and fancy as in body. Ever he would be bent above the books of Marget Maclean, getting deeper to the meaning of them.
That outer world, for once, had no interest for Gilian; his eyes were on the windows, and though the interior of Maam was utterly unknown to him from actual sight, he was fancying it in every detail.
Gilian felt a traitor to this man as he swept past, seeing nothing, with a face cruel and vengeful, the flanks of his horse streaked with crimson. The people shrunk back in their closes and their shop-doors as he passed all covered upon with the fighting passion that had been slumbering up the glen since ever he came home from the Peninsula. It was the breakfast hour in the Paymaster's.
The leaves bronzed, the autumn rains came, the leaves fell, the trees stood bare, the winds began to blow, there fell the first snowflakes. Gilian, walking home from the town, was overtaken on the moor by Robin Greenlaw. "Where is Elspeth?" "We are making our winter dresses. She would not leave her sewing." The cousins walked upon the moor path together.
Then Gilian occurred less well adapted, she felt, for the circumstances; but she could speak more freely to him than to any other, and he was out there in the hazel-wood, no doubt, still waiting for her. Gilian would do, Gilian would have to do. If he could have seen how unimpassioned she was in coming to this conclusion he would have been grieved.
Miss Mary, sitting high at her parlour window with Gilian, looked out through the blurred pane with satisfaction upon all this inclemency. "Faith," said she, "I wish them joy of their party whoever they be that share it!" Then all at once her mood changed to one of pity as the solitary street showed a moving light upon its footway. "Oh!" she cried.
When they spoke again they were in the cloistered wood, the sea hidden by the massive trees. "I will show you my heron's nest," said Gilian, anxious to add to the riches the ramble would confer on her. She was delighted. Gilian at school had the reputation of knowing the most wonderful things of the woods, and few were taken into his confidence.
Gilian shifted from leg to leg and turned his bonnet continuously, and through his mind there darted many thoughts about this curious place and company that he had happened upon. As they looked at him he felt the darting tremor of the fawn in the thicket, but alas he was trapped! How old they were! How odd they looked in their high collars and those bands wound round their necks!
"It's only this, Dugald," said his brother, "that here's a pluckier young fellow than we thought, and good prospects yet for a soger in the family. I never gave Jock credit for discretion, but, faith, he seems to have gone with a keen eye to the market for once in his life! If it was not for Gilian here, Turner was wanting a daughter this day; we could hardly have hit on a finer revenge."
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