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Updated: May 28, 2025
But tell me this, Master. Do Kilmeny's uncle and aunt know that you are meeting her there?" "Why," said Eric, in some confusion, "I I do not know whether they do or not. But Mrs. Williamson, surely you do not suspect me of meaning any harm or wrong to Kilmeny Gordon?" "No, I don't, Master. I might think it of some men, but never of you.
But a rosy glow of hope flashed over Kilmeny's face when Eric told her what he meant to do. "Oh, do you think he can make me speak?" she wrote eagerly. "I don't know, Kilmeny. I hope that he can, and I know he will do all that mortal skill can do. If he can remove your defect will you promise to marry me, dearest?" She nodded. The grave little motion had the solemnity of a sacred promise.
The black tragedy of it appalled him the tragedy of that merciless law, the most cruel and mysterious thing in God's universe, which ordains that the sin of the guilty shall be visited on the innocent. Fight against it as he would, the miserable conviction stole into his heart that Kilmeny's case was indeed beyond the reach of any human skill.
Eric realized that this woman could and would have done whatsoever she willed, unflinchingly and unrelentingly. She could stamp her desire on everything and everybody about her, moulding them to her wish and will, in their own despite and in defiance of all the resistance they might make. Many things in Kilmeny's upbringing and temperament became clear to him.
"Kilmeny's mouth is like a love-song made incarnate in sweet flesh," said Eric enthusiastically. "Humph!" said Mr. Marshall. "Well," he added more tolerantly, a moment later, "I was a poet, too, for six months in my life when I was courting your mother." Kilmeny was reading on the bench under the lilac trees when they reached the orchard.
Now, when her brother appealed to her, she leaned forward and said eagerly, "Do you know that there is a stain on Kilmeny's birth, Master?" "I know that her mother was the innocent victim of a very sad mistake, Miss Gordon. I admit no real stain where there was no conscious wrong doing.
"It is a dreadful tale," he said moodily, getting up and walking restlessly to and fro in the dim spruce-shadowed old kitchen where they were. "And if it is true that her mother's willful silence caused Kilmeny's dumbness, I fear, as you say, that we cannot help her. But you may be mistaken. It may have been nothing more than a strange coincidence. Possibly something may be done for her.
He realized how unfortunate it was that this should have happened before he had had time to make his own explanation. It would probably prejudice Kilmeny's guardians still further against him. At this point in his thoughts Neil's pent up passion suddenly found vent in a burst of wild words. "So you've come to meet her again. But she isn't here you'll never see her again!
Eric at once guessed that this must be the picture of Margaret Gordon, for, although quite unlike Kilmeny's sensitive, spirited face in general, there was a subtle, unmistakable resemblance about brow and chin. The pictured face was a very handsome one, suggestive of velvety dark eyes and vivid colouring; but it was its expression rather than its beauty which fascinated Eric.
The mere idea of never seeing her again was so unbearable that he laughed at himself for having counted it a possible alternative. "If I can win Kilmeny's love I shall ask her to be my wife," he said, looking out of the window to the dark, southwestern hill beyond which lay his orchard.
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