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Updated: June 21, 2025
Doss is anxious for his breakfast also," she added, wheeling round and calling to the dog, who was endeavouring to unearth a mole, an occupation to which he had been zealously addicted from the third month, but in which he had never on any single occasion proved successful. Waldo shouldered his bag, and Lyndall walked on before in silence, with the dog close to her side.
She was quiet for a little while, and then began to talk about Trana and the old farm-servants, till she saw her companion was weary; then she rose and left her for the night. But after Em was gone Lyndall sat on, watching the old crone's face in the corner, and with a weary look, as though the whole world's weight rested on these frail young shoulders.
"Oh, yes," said Gregory, "that is what I have already thought. We have the same thoughts about everything. How strange!" "Very," said Lyndall, working with her little toe at a stone in the ground before her. Gregory felt he must sustain the conversation. The only thing he could think of was to recite a piece of poetry.
I was just looking back to see, you know, and he happened just to be looking back too, and we looked right into each other's faces; and he got red, and I got so red. I believe he is the new man." "Yes," said Waldo. "I must go now. Perhaps he has brought us letters from the post from Lyndall. You know she can't stay at school much longer, she must come back soon.
"He must have been a fine baby," said Lyndall, looking at the white dimity curtain that hung above the window. Em was puzzled. "There are some men," said Lyndall, "whom you never can believe were babies at all; and others you never see without thinking how very nice they must have looked when they wore socks and pink sashes."
Will you welcome him? Well, we shall see. I go to meet Waldo. He comes back with the wagon; then he follows me. Poor boy? God knows. There is a land where all things are made right, but that land is not here. "My little children, serve the Saviour; give your hearts to Him while you are yet young. Life is short. "Nothing is mine, otherwise I would say, Lyndall, take my books, Em my stones.
"It is nice to be loved, but it would be better to be good." Then they wished good night, and Em went back to her room. Long after Lyndall lay in the dark thinking, thinking, thinking; and as she turned round wearily to sleep she muttered: "There are some wiser in their sleeping than in their waking." A fire is burning in the unused hearth of the cabin.
The next morning, Waldo, starting off before breakfast with a bag of mealies slung over his shoulder to feed the ostriches, heard a light step behind him. "Wait for me; I am coming with you," said Lyndall, adding as she came up to him, "if I had not gone to look for you yesterday you would not have come to greet me till now. Do you not like me any longer, Waldo?" "Yes but you are changed."
"Let us wait at this camp and watch the birds," she said, as an ostrich hen came bounding toward them with velvety wings outstretched, while far away over the bushes the head of the cock was visible as he sat brooding on the eggs. Lyndall folded her arms on the gate bar, and Waldo threw his empty bag on the wall and leaned beside her.
The last words were uttered with the air of one who produces a clinching argument. What effect it had on the questioner was not evident, for he made no reply, and turned away from her. Drawing closer to Lyndall's feet, he said after a while in a low voice: "Lyndall, has it never seemed to you that the stones were talking with you?
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