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Updated: June 21, 2025
If you have not felt it, Lyndall, you cannot understand it. You may work, and work, and work, till you are only a body, not a soul. Now, when I see one of those evil-looking men that come from Europe navvies, with the beast-like, sunken face, different from any Kaffer's I know what brought that look into their eyes; and if I have only one inch of tobacco I give them half.
Lyndall lay on the bed with her arm drawn across her eyes, very white and still. "Hoo, hoo!" cried Em; "and they won't let him take the grey mare; and Waldo has gone to the mill. Hoo, hoo, and perhaps they won't let us go and say good-bye to him. Hoo, hoo, hoo!" "I wish you would be quiet," said Lyndall without moving. "Does it give you such felicity to let Bonaparte know he is hurting you?
Work, labour that is the secret of all true happiness!" He doubled the pillar under his head, and watched how the German drew the leather thongs in and out. After a while Lyndall silently put her book on the shelf and went home, and the German stood up and began to mix some water and meal for roaster-cakes.
He sat still, staring across the plain with his tearful eyes. Service No. In the front room of the farmhouse sat Tant Sannie in her elbow-chair. In her hand was her great brass-clasped hymn-book, round her neck was a clean white handkerchief, under her feet was a wooden stove. There too sat Em and Lyndall, in clean pinafores and new shoes.
"Yes," said Waldo sleepily, and she did not speak again. When they reached the farmhouse all was dark, for Lyndall had retired as soon as they got home. Waldo lifted Em from her saddle, and for a moment she leaned her head on his shoulder and clung to him. "You are very tired," he said, as he walked with her to the door; "let me go in and light a candle for you."
It was at this stage of the proceedings on the night of Tant Sannie's wedding that Lyndall sat near the doorway in one of the side-rooms, to watch the dancers as they appeared and disappeared in the yellow cloud of dust. Gregory sat moodily in a corner of the large dancing-room. His little betrothed touched his arm.
"He's a nasty, snappish little cur!" said Gregory, calculating from her manner that the remark would be endorsed. "He snapped at my horse's tail yesterday, and nearly made it throw me. I wonder his master didn't take him, instead of leaving him here to be a nuisance to all of us!" Lyndall seemed absorbed in her play; but he ventured another remark.
"Oh, I didn't know you had asked her, Greg," said his little betrothed, humbly; and she went away to pour out coffee. Nevertheless, some time after Gregory found he had shifted so far round the room as to be close to the door where Lyndall sat. After standing for some time he inquired whether he might not bring her a cup of coffee. "May I not bring you a stove, Miss Lyndall, to put your feet on?"
Soon she had forgotten him, as entirely as he had forgotten her; each was in his own world with his own. He was writing to Lyndall. He would tell her all he had seen, all he had done, though it were nothing worth relating. He seemed to have come back to her, and to be talking to her now he sat there in the old house.
"Oh, Lyndall! I will give you some of my sheep," said Em, with a sudden burst of pitying generosity. "I do not want your sheep," said the girl slowly; "I want things of my own. When I am grown up," she added, the flush on her delicate features deepening at every word, "there will be nothing that I do not know.
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