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Updated: May 21, 2025
"Miss Graeme, my dear," said Mrs Snow, with some hesitation, "did you ever think there was anything between your brother Harry and his master's daughter the young lady that Allan Ruthven married or was it only Sandy's fancy?" Graeme's face grew white as she turned her startled eyes on her friend. "Sandy! Did he see it? I did not think about it at the time; but afterward I knew it, and, oh!
You ought to be getting rosy and strong upon them, and I'm afraid you are not," said he, looking gravely into the fair pale face that he took between his hands. He looked up, and met Graeme's look fixed anxiously upon him. He did not avert his quickly as he had sometimes done on such occasions. The gravity of his look deepened as he met hers. "Where has your father gone?" asked he.
He was so so so demned good" and Graeme's lips twitched in spite of himself, so closely was the expression in accord with his own feelings. But Pixley did not see the twitch, for he was looking at Margaret and Hennie Penny, and he was saying with vehemence "Will you believe me that I knew absolutely nothing of this?
At one moment she was hanging over Graeme's chair, at the next, kneeling at Mrs Snow's side; and all the time with a face so radiant that even Will noticed it, and begged to be told the secret of her delight. The truth was, Rose was having a little private jubilation of her own.
Her dress was of the plainest and most ordinary description, of a dark colour, and, like Magdalen Graeme's, something approaching to a religious habit. Strict neatness and cleanliness of person, seemed to intimate, that if poor, she was not reduced to squalid or heart-broken distress, and that she was still sufficiently attached to life to retain a taste for its decencies, if not its elegancies.
'But, Lance, you told me about the rat hunt at Mr. Graeme's. 'What? Turning out the barn, with Mr. Graeme himself, and Bill, and all the rest? Do you think that's like letting a lot of wretched beasts out of a trap to be snapped up by a cur of a dog, with no end of drinking foul-mouthed blackguards betting on him?
Graeme's fault," said Miss Penny musingly. "As how?" he asked. "Didn't you stop me giving Johnnie Vautrin six demanded pennies to keep it fine all day?" "I discouraged the imposition, certainly. But I don't suppose Johnnie could have done much except with your sixpence." "He's a queer clever boy, is Johnnie. He certainly said it wasn't going to keep fine." "Little humbug!"
She sat silent and grave while her brother was speaking, and when he ceased she hardly knew whether she were glad or not, to perceive that, absorbed in his own thoughts, he did not seem to notice her silence or miss her sympathy. That night Graeme's head pressed a sleepless pillow, and among her many, many thoughts there were few that were not sad.
"I mind it, too," said Graeme. Rose did not "mind" it, nor any other spot of her native land, nor the young mother who had lain so many years beneath the drooping ivy. But she stooped to touch with her lips, the faded leaves that spoke of her, and then she laid her cheek down on Graeme's knee, and did not speak a word, except to say that she had quite forgotten all.
Her father had been once or twice before sharply and suddenly seized with illness. The doctor looked very grave this time, but seeing Graeme's pale, anxious face, he could not find it in his heart to tell her that this was something more than the indigestion which it had been called severe but not dangerous.
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