Cape of Good Hope (South Africa) -- Fiction; English fiction; Xhosa (African people) -- Fiction
The _lady_!--a bonnet with bright-coloured ribbons--ah, Gray thought of
Katy's garish taste!--placed far back on the head, revealed a face
encircled with hair of that rich wavy brown only seen in England. The
curls fell heavily upon the swelling bosom--the large dark and shining
eyes, the red lips, the brilliant cheek, were all of a character too
full and decided for Katy; and yet--Martin stole along the hedge,
keeping pace with these two people; the gentleman, young and showy, with
his cap set jauntily on his shapely head, and she, the woman--for
girlhood was passed, face and form were in their prime--was arrayed in
attire that ill agreed with Katy's condition.
But it was she--her large shawl slipped from her shoulders, and she
turned to gather up its gaudy folds; she spoke, laughed again, the white
teeth parted the scarlet lips, and Martin knew her.
He stopped, breathed shorter, and she passed on, after the shawl had
been adjusted, and the lover, or husband, had put aside the sunny hair
and kissed the smooth forehead of that laughing, beaming face.
Whether wife or mistress, Gray felt she was lost to him, and he sat down
again upon the bank of leaves, till the shadows of the old elms
stretched themselves out like giants on the meadow-grass, and the song
of the reapers mingled with the hum of voices in the village; then he
rose, buckled on his knapsack, and made his way through many
well-remembered paths, past the old school-house, to the garden-gate
opening upon his father's little property.
Again he trod the well-remembered path, again he lifted up the latch,
and, as he had hoped and expected, found old Margaret by the fire; age
made her feel the cold, though the glow of autumn was in the sky.
She recognised him at once, in spite of growing infirmities; perhaps it
was because, as she said, she had been expecting him, for she had saved
what rent she could afford to pay out of earnings from the garden, and
had it ready for him; but he set aside all questions of finance and
property, and sat down beside the old woman's spinning-wheel.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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