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Updated: June 11, 2025
Deprived of my favorite plant, I grew sick in mind and body, moody, sarcastic, and discontented. Such a state of things could not long continue, nor could Miss M'Alister continue to have much attachment for such a sullen, ill-conditioned creature as I then was.
I will ask Miss Desborough to-morrow. And if I can pass the Post Office examination, I might get appointed to Plymouth. Aunt Mary, don't cry. I can't bear it." "You don't feel it as I shall," sobbed Mrs. M'Alister, without looking up. "But I couldn't let Ned go to Plymouth alone, Rhoda. I couldn't be parted from him." "Of course not," Rhoda answered cheerily.
Here's your whiskey, M'Alister; but oh be careful!" said the lad. The Scotchman's eyes glittered greedily at the bottle. "Never fear," said he, "I'll just rub a wee drappie on the pawms of my hands to keep away the frost-bite, for its awsome cold, man. Now away wi' ye, and take tent, laddie, keep off the other sentries."
Worn-out with whiskey-fetching and with helping to deck barrack-rooms and carrying pots and trestles, John Broom was having a nap in the evening, in company with a mongrel deer-hound, when a man shook him, and said, "I heard some one asking for ye an hour or two back; M'Alister wants ye." "Where is he?" said John Broom, jumping to his feet. "In hospital; he's been there a day or two.
But the most probable supposition was that he had never heard of the will. Mrs. M'Alister had said that they were living fifty miles from a town. How easily it might have happened that the advertisements they put in the Melbourne papers had never been seen by him.
He hung about the farmhouse, and warmed himself at the soldiers' fire. In the course of the day M'Alister got him apart and whispered, "I'm going on duty the night at ten, laddie. It's fearsome cold, and I hav'na had a drop to warm me the day. If ye could ha' brought me a wee drappie to the corner of the three roads it's twa miles from here I'm thinking "
"How would it do for you to live with Miss Smythe?" suggested Mrs. M'Alister, looking anxiously at Rhoda. "Now Miss Desborough is going away, she will want somebody, won't she?" A smile broke over Rhoda's face. She had never spoken of Pauline's contemptuous rudeness to her aunt.
M'Alister's nervously-spoken answer. "Uncle James says we are all to live in the country with him," broke in Jack, who had been watching for an opportunity to make his voice heard. "And we shall have cream every day, and see the pigs fed." "Uncle James?" said Rhoda, looking at Mrs. M'Alister. A little shadow had fallen on her face. Mrs.
It's strange that a man should set store by a good name that he doesna deserve; but if any blessings of mine could bring ye good, they're yours, that saved an old soldier's honour, and let him die respectit in his regiment." "Oh, M'Alister, let me fetch one of the chaplains to write a letter to fetch your father," cried John Broom.
M'Alister, as they went into the sitting-room, Rhoda holding little Willie in her arms. "You are much later than you expected." "Miss Merivale begged me to stay. Oh, Aunt Mary, she has been so kind! But I will tell you all about it presently. How tired you look, Aunt Mary! Jack and Willie, I hope you have been good?" "They have been very good," said Mrs. M'Alister hastily.
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