without actually submerging his head, and to regain the
The old woman had not yet returned from church, or from the weekly gossip or neighbourly tea which succeeded. The husband sat in the kitchen, spelling the psalms for the day in his Prayer-book, and reading the words out aloud--a habit he had acquired from the double solitude of his life, for he was deaf. He did not hear the quiet entrance of the pair, and they were struck with the sort of ghostly echo which seems to haunt half-furnished and uninhabited houses. The verses he was reading were the following:--
"Why art thou so vexed, O my soul: and why art thou so disquieted within me?
"O put thy trust in God: for I will yet thank him, which is the help of my countenance, and my God."
And when he had finished he shut the book, and sighed with the satisfaction of having done his duty. The words of holy trust, though, perhaps, they were not fully understood, carried a faithful peace down into the depths of his soul. As he looked up, he saw the young couple standing in the middle of the floor. He pushed his iron-rimmed spectacles. on to his forehead, and rose to greet the daughter of his old master and ever-honoured mistress.
"God bless thee, lass! God bless thee! My old eyes are glad to see thee again."
Ruth sprang forward to shake the horny hand stretched forward in the action of blessing. She pressed it between both of hers, as she rapidly poured out questions. Mr. Bellingham was not altogether comfortable at seeing one whom he had already begun to appropriate as his own, so tenderly familiar with a hard-featured, meanly-dressed day-labourer. He sauntered to the window, and looked out into the grass-grown farmyard; but he could not help overhearing some of the conversation, which seemed to him carried on too much in the tone of equality. "And who's yon?" asked the old labourer at last. "Is he your sweetheart? Your missis's son, I reckon. He's a spruce young chap, anyhow."
Mr. Bellingham's "blood of all the Howards" rose and tingled about his ears, so that he could not hear Ruth's answer. It began by "Hush, Thomas; pray hush!" but how it went on he did not catch. The idea of his being Mrs. Mason's son! It was really too ridiculous; but, like most things which are "too ridiculous," it made him very angry. He was hardly himself again when Ruth shyly came to the window-recess and asked him if he would like to see the house-place, into which the front-door entered; many people thought it very pretty, she said, half-timidly, for his face had unconsciously assumed a hard and haughty expression, which he could not instantly soften down. He followed her, however; but before he left the kitchen he saw the old man standing, looking at Ruth's companion with a strange, grave air of dissatisfaction.
They went along one or two zig-zag damp-smelling stone passages, and then entered the house-place, or common sitting-room for a farmer's family in that part of the country. The front door opened into it, and several other apartments issued out of it, such as the dairy, the state bedroom (which was half-parlour as well), and a small room which had been appropriated to the late Mrs. Hilton, where she sat, or more frequently lay, commanding through the open door the comings and goings of her household. In those days the house-place had been a cheerful room, full of life, with the passing to and fro of husband, child, and servants; with a great merry wood-fire crackling and blazing away every evening, and hardly let out in the very heat of summer; for with the thick stone walls, and the deep window-seats, and the drapery of vine-leaves and ivy, that room, with its flag-floor, seemed always to want the sparkle and cheery warmth of a fire. But now the green shadows from without seemed to have become black in the uninhabited desolation. The oaken shovel-board, the heavy dresser, and the carved cupboards, were now dull and damp, which were formerly polished up to the brightness of a looking-glass where the fire-blaze was for ever glinting; they only added to. the oppressive gloom; the flag-floor was wet with heavy moisture. Ruth stood gazing into the room, seeing nothing of what was present. She saw a vision of former days--an evening in the days of her childhood; her father sitting in the "master's corner" near the fire, sedately smoking his pipe, while he dreamily watched his wife and child; her mother reading to her, as she sat on a little stool at her feet. It was gone--all gone into the land of shadows; but for the moment it seemed so present in the old room, that Ruth believed her actual life to be the dream. Then, 'still silent, she went on into her mother's parlour. But there, the bleak look of what had once been full of peace and mother's love, struck cold on her heart. She uttered a cry, and threw herself down by the sofa, hiding her face in her hands, while her frame quivered with her repressed sobs.
- (an odd red-breasted little bird, which inhabits the thick
- she probed at the feeling, trying to figure it out. Och,
- the one who curses? And if this is your curse at work,
- her back, fine enough! “Dhé!” she sputtered, knowing
- of three-halfpence, two fowls, one of which, the Indian
- But his lips tightened slightly when he saw Kelpie, and
- in the direction of the telltale smoke, hoping passionately
- in his own tongue. For although he could not know what
- the sailors bought with a stick of tobacco, of the value
- “What will you be doing now?” she asked against her
- To argue further would be hopeless and perhaps fatal. This
- “We’re no for shooting you now,” he announced, “but
- wooden steps. He drew himself closely to these, and directed
- my time and waiting for warm weather to run away back home?”
- Instead, she stared back at him, at the freckles and straight
- “Husband indeed!” she retorted, staring boldly into
- or that other infinitely more beautiful flower who wandered
- who was clearly well educated and therefore at least the
- leave me here, and then it’s away back I’ll be by myself.”
- she confided beseechingly, “it is myself am afraid of
- he often spent much time with the white foreman of the
- through the brush, nearly invisible against the low winter
- long, penetrating looks. There was more than mockery in
- freckles, and she could see a tiny pulse in his temple
- which marks the natural boundary of the country that the
- never intended that, either. It was not funny; it was not!
- Kelpie’s heart threatened to choke her. He’d be sending
- for Alex was usually so infuriatingly self-assured—and
- in all the finer points of big game hunting. Of an evening
- be doing the now, to avenge Ian? But she could not think
- still. It was as if she were living a pattern, and it was
- daft fears,” he observed. “But ’tis true enough that
- December 1st. — We steered for the island of Lemuy. I
- “We’re no for shooting you now,” he announced, “but
- Angus will carry you,” he announced, to the displeasure
- convincing, and in any case, what Cameron would have claimed
- all the inhabitants came down to the beach to see us pitch
- up to walk alongside Hamish. “I am frightened,” she
- body in the world,” she observed smugly. “I myself
- her own life for Ian or anyone else. She pulled her thick
- and gunpowder. The latter article was required for a very
- and his broadsword bore grim stains from the last house
- ’tis the truth you’re telling me about that messenger.
- son of a chieftain? It was a thing out of the ordinary
- our tents. They were very civil, and offered us a house;
- what he had done. For if he could strike down his foster
- she pointed out regretfully, “he would be making even
- and then found herself grinning ruefully, though she had
- said that his boys were resting and gaining strength after
- This last clearly appealed to most of the Campbells, but