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Updated: July 18, 2025
The high, dim-colored walls, with their curious, low corner towers and the leafage of the wall fruits spread against their brick, inclosed it embracingly, as if they were there to take care of it and its beauty. But the tree itself seemed to have grown there in all its dignified loveliness of shadow to take care of Mrs. MacNairn, who sat under it. I felt as if it loved and was proud of her.
"I did not see them. The mist was too thick," he answered. "They were some wild hunters, perhaps." "It gives me such a strange feeling to try to remember, Angus," I said, lifting my forehead from my hands. "Don't try," he said. "Give me the manuscript and get down from the step-ladder. Come and look at the list of books I have made for Mr. MacNairn."
I can lie down here on the grass and sleep . . . all through the night under this moonlight. . . . I can sleep sleep "I began to sink softly down, with the heavenliest feeling of relaxation and repose, as if there existed only the soul of beautiful rest. I sank so softly and just as my cheek almost touched the grass the dream was over!" "Oh!" cried Mrs. MacNairn. "Did you awaken?" "No.
MacNairn and I went in to dress for dinner, Hector lingered a little behind us because the silent beauty held him. I came down before his mother did, and I went out upon the terrace again because I saw he was still sitting there. I went to the stone balustrade very quietly and leaned against it as I turned to look at him and speak.
I dare say that he had never before seen a girl who had lived so much alone and in such a remote and wild place. I believe Sir Ian and his wife were pleased, too, to see that I was talking. They were glad that their guests should see that I was intelligent enough to hold the attention even of a clever man. If Hector MacNairn was interested in me I could not be as silly and dull as I looked.
He made notes of the manuscripts and books he thought Mr. MacNairn would feel the deepest interest in. He loved his library with all his being, and I knew he looked forward to talking to a man who would care for it in the same way. He had been going over one of the highest shelves one day and had left his step-ladder leaning against it when he went elsewhere.
He was usually a rather grave-faced man, but this smile had a kind of startling triumph in it. He certainly heard me, for he whipped off his bonnet in a salute which was as triumphant as the smile. But he did not answer, and actually passed in and out of sight in the mist. When I rose Mr. MacNairn had risen, too. When I turned to speak in my surprise, he had fixed on me his watchful look.
She must be a new friend of my mother's. So she is one of the White People?" "She looks like a white iris herself, doesn't she?" I said. "Now you know." "Yes; now I know," he answered. I asked Mrs. MacNairn later who the girl was, but she didn't seem to recognize my description of her. Mr. Le Breton had gone away by that time, and so had the girl herself.
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