“Graeme—my own love—I am going away—and they will have no one but you. And I have so much to say to you.”
So much to say! With only strength to ask, “God guide my darling ever!” and the dying eyes closed, and the smile lingered upon the pale lips, and in the silence that came next, one thought fixed itself on the heart of the awe-stricken girl, never to be effaced. Her father and his motherless children had none but her to care for them now.
Chapter Two.
“It’s a’ ye ken! Gotten ower it, indeed!” and Janet turned her back on her visitor, and went muttering about her gloomy kitchen: “The minister no’ being one to speak his sorrow to the newsmongering folk that frequent your house, they say he has gotten ower it, do they? It’s a’ they ken!”
“Janet, woman,” said her visitor, “I canna but think you are unreasonable in your anger. I said nothing derogatory to the minister; far be it from me! But we can a’ see that the house needs a head, and the bairns need a mother. The minister’s growing gey cheerful like, and the year is mair than out; and—”
“Whisht, woman. Dinna say it. Speak sense if ye maun speak,” said Janet, with a gesture of disgust and anger.
“Wherefore should I no’ say it?” demanded her visitor. “And as to speaking sense—. But I’ll no’ trouble you. It seems you have friends in such plenty that you can afford to scorn and scoff at them at your pleasure. Good-day to you,” and she rose to go.
But Janet had already repented her hot words.