'I always thought he was yours.'
'Mine—who said so?'
'Miss Galloway, repeatedly.'
'She had no authority for any such statement,' said Mary, upon whom a kind of light was beginning to break, and Colville drew a little nearer, as he seemed very much disposed to take up the thread of the 'old story' where he had left it off on the afternoon when he carved their initials on the tree, carried off the bunch of berries, and gave her in exchange the bouquet of Blanche Galloway, before he went to Alyth.
'Is it not strange, Captain Colville,' said Mary, 'that day after day passes, and yet we hear nothing more of this new heir—this usurper of our poor little home—or of any special notice to quit Birkwoodbrae?'
'Amid the world he lives in, he may forget.'
'He and his father before forgot us always. But still, there is one patrimony of which he cannot deprive us—one near the churchyard wall!' said Mary, bitterly. 'However, things are at the worst with us now, and they will be sure to mend.'
He was observing the rare delicacy of her hand, as she caressed the head of Jack resting on her knee.
'How you must loathe that cousin!' said he.
'Oh, no! Heaven forbid! He has never done us any active harm; yet we Wellwoods are very unforgiving in our feuds.'