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Updated: June 29, 2025


That first summer, Nicie returned to Glashruach to wait on Lady Galbraith, was more her friend than her servant, and when she married, was settled on the estate. For some little time Ginevra was fully occupied in getting her house in order, and furnishing the new part of it. When that was done, Sir Gilbert gave an entertainment to his tenants.

She had amused herself by trying to vizualize the sort of person who ought to buy it. It had found its proper buyer at last fulfilled its destiny. "Oh, Grant!" said John Galbraith. The queenly creature stopped short and Rose recognized her with a jump, as the sulky chorus-girl. Dressed like this, her twenty pounds of surplus fat didn't show. Galbraith walked over to her.

Nowise abashed at the thought of the grenadier or her array of doves, he would have gone, the very next day after meeting them in the street, to call upon her: it was some good, he thought, of being a rich instead of a poor boy, that, having lost thereby those whom he loved best, he had come where he could at least see Miss Galbraith; but Mrs.

"I never believe anything I hear against anybody," said Beth, unconsciously quoting Ideala; "so please spare me the recital of all invidious stories." "You'll only believe what suits yourself, I know," he said. "And I've no doubt you'll enjoy yourself. Galbraith will be there, and Mr. Theodore Hamilton-Wells, the fair-haired 'Diavolo, who will suit your book exactly, I should think."

People stared coldly at her as they passed, and she could not help fancying herself the subject of unpleasant remark because she was alone. She prayed hard that some one would come and speak to her. Dan had disappeared. After a time she recognised Sir George Galbraith among the groups of people at the opposite side of the room.

And with that she let herself out of the room, indifferent to the effect these last words of hers might produce. She caught sight of Galbraith down at the end of the corridor waiting for her, but she paused a moment, pulled in a long breath and grinned at herself.

Pierre frowned a warning, and then added, with unconcern: "I remember when you sleep thirty hours, Galbraith after the prairie fire, three years ago, eh!" "Well, that's so; that's so as you say it. We'll let him sleep till noon, or longer or longer, won't we, Pierre?" "Yes, till noon is good, or longer." "But he shall not sleep longer if I can wake him," said Jen.

Yet those drinking companions would have missed George Galbraith, silent as he was, and but poorly responsive to the wit and humour of the rest; for he was always courteous, always ready to share what he had, never looking beyond the present tumbler altogether a genial, kindly, honest nature.

She had been turning over the books that Galbraith had brought her, with the tender touch of a true book-lover and that evident interest and pleasure which goes far beyond thanks. Mere formal thanks she forgot to express, but she had brightened up in the most wonderful way since Galbraith appeared, and was all smiles when he took his leave.

Can ony o' ye tell me the brave laddie's name? that I may thank him and love him for saving my bairn," asked Janet. Some of the girls gave one name, some another. "Na, na, he is neither o' them," exclaimed one of the elder girls. "He is young Alec Galbraith, whose father and mother live in the big house over the links there. He gangs to the school, and my brothers ken him weel."

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