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Updated: June 4, 2025
Beyond, the hills northwards and westwards stood high in white majesty, save where the black crags of Glen Urtach broke the line, and, above our lower Grampians, we caught glimpses of the distant peaks that lifted their heads in holiness unto God. It seemed to me a fitting day for William MacLure's funeral, rather than summer time, with its flowers and golden corn.
She smiled back in approving fashion, to feel somewhat disconcerted a moment later as the mirror reflected Donald Maclure's face beside her own. He was staring at her with the same intent questioning which she had noticed in Eleanor's eyes, and surely he looked paler, older, more haggard than usual!
The sore, slighted feeling of the last few weeks could not survive while a man of Donald Maclure's calibre placed her first among women.
At the beginning of the illness Ruth was dismayed to see a stranger in Dr Maclure's place, but on the third day he appeared, bringing with him an atmosphere of comfort and security. One felt now that all that was possible from human skill and care would be done for the dear invalid, and, busy man as he was, Dr Maclure found time for several visits a day, until the first acute anxiety was passed.
"You make too much of it, Drumsheugh," and the clear, firm voice was heard of all; "it would have taken more than a few snow drifts to keep me from showing my respect to William MacLure's memory."
"Your honour had better," answerd the landlord, with the perseverance of his calling, "send some ane to warn your friend to come on here." "I tell you, landlord," answered Morton, impatiently, "that will not serve my purpose; I must go straight to this woman Maclure's house, and I desire you to find me a guide."
Arrange everything as you think best," replied Ruth sweetly, kissing the little, wistful face as she spoke; for Mrs Connor was still very fragile, and by Dr Maclure's orders had to be spared all possible worry. The same orders were extended to forbid Ruth from taking advantage of Lady Margot's offer to procure work at a distance.
Was there ever a girl in creation who dried a ghost's dripping hair? The whole thing was too silly. In accordance with Mrs Maclure's promise, a great many fresh girls had arrived, and the full number of seventy was now nearly made up. It would be quite made up by the end of the following week.
It was a bitter December Sabbath, and the fathers were settling the affairs of the parish ankle deep in snow, when MacLure's old housekeeper told Drumsheugh that the doctor was not able to rise, and wished to see him in the afternoon.
"You make too much of it, Drumsheugh," and the clear, firm voice was heard of all; "it would have taken more than a few snow drifts to keep me from showing my respect to William MacLure's memory."
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