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Updated: June 26, 2025


At Anna's side among the rearing, trembling teams a mounted officer, a surgeon, Flora's messenger, was commanding and imploring her to follow Constance and Miranda into the wagon which had wrecked their conveyance.

"What I mean," she explicitly stated, "is that if he should undertake to carry out his preposterous suggestion, and call this afternoon, I am quite ready, if you wish, to take him off your hands." This last took Flora's breath away. It had not occurred to her that Clara had overheard.

"And after all, why not?" I mused. The next instant I swung round, as Flora uttered a piteous little cry; and there, behind us, in the outlet of the cutting, stood Major Chevenix and Ronald. The boy stepped forward, and, ignoring my bow, laid a hand on Flora's arm. "You will come home at once." I touched his shoulder.

As the broad sash came down, Anna's heart, in final despair, sunk like lead, or like the despairing heart of her disowned lover in the garden, Flora's heart the meantime rising like a recovered kite. They moved from the window with their four hands joined, the dejected girl dissembling elation, the elated one dejection. "I don't see," twittered Anna, "how I should have closed it!

"Do you mean that blonde on the mantelpiece?" she asked, in the conversational tone of one who but passed the time o' day. "Mary!" I said. She walked up to Flora's picture, took it down, looked at it, and put it back. "Well," I said, tentatively, "what do you think of her?" "What do I think of her?" demanded Mary, wheeling on me so suddenly that I dodged.

She would have liked to put Flora's arm through her's, but she thought, it would look neglectful of Ethel; so she only showed the way downstairs. Ethel forgot all her sister's orders; for there stood her father, and she looked most earnestly at his face. It was cheerful, and his voice sounded well pleased as he greeted Meta; then resumed an animated talk with Mr. Rivers.

While this entertaining conversation was going on, there came a horrid screech and a long succession of yelps from the court-yard. 'Good gracious mercy, cried Aunt Rebecca, sailing rapidly to the window, ''tis Flora's voice. Sweet creature, have they killed you my angel; what is it? where are you, sweetheart? where can she be?

With the cessation of the wind the temperature rose to such a pitch that work became an impossibility, and Dick was at length reluctantly compelled to knock-off and return to the shore, much to Flora's satisfaction for she was continually in dread lest the untiring and feverish energy with which he laboured should result in his suffering a serious breakdown.

Perhaps you will like better to dance to them in the hall, than to be deafened with their harmony without taking part in the exercise they invite us to. Waverley took Flora's hand. The dance, song, and merry-making proceeded, and closed the day's entertainment at the castle of Vich Ian Vohr.

Our women do not kiss one another like the city ladies; but the motherly grip of Mary Bruce's hand sent a thrill to Flora's heart.

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