Donald Ross of Heimra (Volume 3 of 3) — John Shaqi
Donald Ross of Heimra (Volume 3 of 3)Black, William
General
Donald Ross of Heimra (Volume 3 of 3)
Black, William
Scotland -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
"And then," he continued, frankly, and perhaps not noticing her sarcasm,
"I like to be on friendly terms with the old people who knew our family
in former days. I like them to speak well of me; I like to think that
they have some trifle of affection for me. And this is about the only
way I can keep up the old relationship that used to exist between them
and the ’big house;’ it’s very little kindness I am able to show them:
they’ve got to take the will for the deed nowadays." He turned to her.
"What, not convinced yet?" he said, laughing again. "What is to be the
verdict? Not acquittal?"
She shook her head doubtfully: the Lady Superior of Lochgarra did not
choose to say.
They found an excellent lunch awaiting them; and after that, in his
eager desire to entertain these rare visitors in every possible way, he
showed them the heirlooms of the family, along with a heap of
antiquities and curiosities that for the most part had been put away in
cabinets and chests, as being out of keeping with these plain rooms.
Naturally the old armour interested Mary less than the silks and
embroideries, the porcelain and pottery; and in particular was she
struck by a Rhodian dish, the like of which she had never seen before.
It was of coarse material, and of the simplest design—a plain
draught-board pattern, with a free-handed scroll running round the rim;
but the curious pellucid green colour was singularly beautiful, and the
glaze extraordinarily luminous.
"Where could that have come from?" said she, reluctantly laying it down,
and still regarding it with admiration. "I have never seen one like it
in England."
"My father sent it home from Smyrna," he said, simply, "to my mother.
He could not live in the West Highlands: the climate did not suit him.
He travelled a great deal."
Donald Ross seemed to speak without any restraint or embarrassment; but
there was some strange misgiving in Mary’s mind; she was glad when
Käthchen changed the subject—calling her attention to some exquisite
lace.
And at last this wonderful and memorable visit had to come to an end;
but when they went out to the little porch Mary said she could not go
without saying good-bye to Martha, and so she turned and went through
the passage into the kitchen.
"Martha," said she, in her most winning way, and with smiling eyes, "you
have been very good to us, and I shall never forget your kindness on our
first visit to Heimra, when we were quite strangers to you. And this is
a little present I want you to take, as a souvenir, you understand——"
She had unclasped the chatelaine from her belt; and there it was, in
antique silver, with all its ornaments and housewifely implements
complete, pressed upon the old dame’s acceptance. But Martha hung
back—shyly—and yet looking at the marvellous treasure.
"Oh, no, mem," she said. "I thank ye; I’m sure I thank ye; but Mr. Ross
would not be liking me to tek it."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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