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Updated: August 31, 2025
You know very well that Mairi is nothing more or less than a scullery-maid; and I suppose you mean to take her out of the kitchen and introduce her to people, and expect her to sit down at table with them. Is not that so?" She did not answer, and he went on impatiently: "Why was I not told that this girl was coming to stay at my house?
A portrait of the King of Borva was hung up inside, and all round the rooms were articles which she had known in the North, before Sheila had married and brought them away into this strange land. "You have never asked after my husband, Mairi," said Sheila, thinking she would confuse the girl. But Mairi was not confused. Probably she had been fancying that Mr.
Ingram goes away from London, you hef no friend at all then in the place, and you are quite alone. Why will you not come to the Lewis, Sheila? It is no one there will know anything of what has happened here; and Mairi she is a good girl, and she will hold her tongue." "They will ask me why I come back without my husband," Sheila said, looking down.
With a rush like that of a startled deer, Sheila was down the stairs, along the hall and on the pavement; and it was, "Oh, Mairi! and have you come at last? And are you very well? And how are all the people in Borva? And Mr. M'Alpine, how are you? and will you come into the house?"
The peat-smoke still lingered in the air: she could not have wished anything to be better. Then she went off to look after the luncheon, and Mairi was permitted to go down and explore the mysteries of the kitchen.
For example, he now proposed that the discussion of the whole question should be postponed for the present, and that Sheila should take him about London and show him all that she had learned; and he suggested that they should then and there get a hansom cab and drive to some exhibition or other. "A hansom, papa?" said Sheila. "Mairi must go with us, you know."
For one wild moment she fancied that outside were all the people she knew Duncan and Scarlett and Mairi and that she was once more at home, with the sea all around her, and the salt, cold air. "Sheila, I want to speak to you." It was her husband. She went to the door, opened it, and stood there penitent and with downcast face.
"Did you catch it yourself, Ailasa?" "Yes, it wass Donald and me: we wass out in a boat, and Donald had a line." "And it is a present for me?" said Sheila, patting the small head and its wild and soft hair. "Thank you, Ailasa. But you must ask Donald to carry it up to the house and give it to Mairi. I cannot take it with me just now, you know."
Sheila was just about to leave the room to summon Mairi when the small girl who had let Mackenzie into the house appeared and said, "Please, m'm, there is a young woman below who wishes to see you. She has a message to you from Mrs. Paterson." "Mrs. Paterson?" Sheila said, wondering how Mrs. Lavender's hench-woman should have been entrusted with any such commission. "Will you ask her to come up?"
Then, as she went up stairs, with her heart still beating fast, the first thing that met her eye was a tartan shawl belonging to Mairi that had been accidentally left in the passage. Her husband must have seen it. "Sheila, what nonsense is this?" he said. He was evidently in a hurry, and yet she could not answer: her heart was throbbing too quickly.
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