“By and by you shall have a song. I would just like to go over this two or three times more.”
“Two or three times! Two or three hundred times, you mean,” said Fanny. “There’s no end to Rose’s playing when she begins.”
Then she wandered into the back parlour again.
“Are you going to write all day, Graeme?”
“Not all day. Has Mrs Snow come down?” asked she, coming forward. “I have been neglecting Harry lately, and I have so much to tell him, but I’ll soon be done now.”
“My dear,” said Mrs Snow, “dinna heed me; I have my knitting, and I enjoy the music.”
“Oh! dear! I wish it didn’t rain,” said Fanny.
“My dear, the earth was needing it,” said Mrs Snow, by way of saying something, “and it will be beautiful when the rain is over.”
“I believe Graeme likes a rainy day,” said Fanny. “It is very stupid, I think.”
“Yes, I sometimes like a rainy day. It brings a little leisure, which is agreeable.”