When tiffen was over, their interesting neighbours rose to depart, with the demure gravity of old men.
CHAPTER VIII.
THE INVITATION.
The night before Mr. Desborough's return to Noak-holly, he called Kathleen to him as he sat dreamily watching the glorious landscape as if he saw it not.
"Can my darling sing to me?" he said, softly humming the first notes of a tune she had heard him sing in the old times, when Kathleen was "her daddy's ae bairn," and the cot stood empty.
He put his arm round her waist, and taught her as he used to do, beating time with his other hand.
"Go bury thy sorrow, the world has its share,
Go bury it deeply, go hide it with care."
She turned and looked in his face.
"Go on," he said, in the quiet, decided tone Kathleen always obeyed.
"Go think of it calmly, when curtained by night;
Go tell it to Jesus, and all will be right."