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Updated: May 12, 2025
She did not want to add trouble to trouble just now. She resolved to forget herself in thoughts of Alison and the others. She was early in the kitchen, but to her relief and pleasure found David there before her. Next to Alison, David was Grannie's favorite. He was thoughtful and considerate.
The cause of this feeling was not to himself traceable. Until old Grannie's story, he had heard no tale concerning it that he remembered: he may have heard hints a word dropped may have made its impression, and roused fancies outlasting the memory of their origin; for feelings, like memories of scents and sounds, remain, when the related facts have vanished.
Grannie's little white face became clouded. "I am going to Oxford Street, to a registry office," said Alison. "I know lots about counter work, and I don't doubt that I may get a very good place; anyhow, I'm going to try." "Well, that's sperit, there's no denying that," said the old lady; "it's in the breed, and it can't be crushed."
She turned her head and stared at the shabby old grandfather clock which stood in a corner of the veranda. For forty years, she thought, its pendulum would slowly swing, till it said "How d'ye do" to the ticking clock in Grannie's morning-room. Forty years was a long time to look forward to. "Jolly nice smells here," Dick remarked. "How ripping the almond blossom looks in the sunshine.
"He was crying because he'd been to Grannie's house and there wasn't anybody there " "And because he'd lost the love-birds he'd brought for Auntie Emmy " "And because he couldn't remember which of us was dead." "No, Mummy, nobody's seen him but us and Nanna." "Nanna's with him now."
Gregson's cow quietly feeding off the top of the wall from the other side, like an outcast Gentile; while my father's cows, like the favoured and greedy Jews, were busy in the short clover inside. Grannie's cow managed to live notwithstanding, and I dare say gave as good milk, though not perhaps quite so much of it, as ill-tempered Hawkie. Mrs.
The village children would pay her a visit on their way home from afternoon school, and of an evening her kitchen hearth, near to which her bed was always placed by day, was the Parliament House for all the neighbouring farms. What Grannie did not know of the life of the village and the dale was certainly not worth knowing. Grannie's one luxury was a good fire.
From grannie's letters I learnt that some old sweetheart of Harold's father had bequeathed untold wealth to this her lost love's son. The wealth was in bonds and stocks principally, and though it would be some time ere Harold was actually in possession of it, yet he had no difficulty in getting advancements to any amount, and had immediately repurchased Five-Bob.
Indeed I am almost sure that he never returned from that campaign, but died fighting, not unlikely, at the battle of Laffeldt; and that my grannie's letters, which I found in the same packet, had been, by the kindness of some comrade, restored to the young widow.
'Am I to rise? asked Shargar, not understanding the action. 'Na, na, lie still. Ye'll be warm eneuch wantin' thae sovereigns. I'll lat ye oot i' the mornin' afore grannie's up. And ye maun mak' the best o't efter that till it's dark again. We'll sattle a' aboot it at the schuil the morn. Only we maun be circumspec', ye ken. 'Ye cudna lay yer han's upo' a drap o' whusky, cud ye, Bob?
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