Christian life -- Fiction; Great Britain -- Fiction; Young women -- Fiction
"You'll be in dear noisy Glasgow again to-morrow, Ellen. Cheer up!"
The steamer put in at the small pier at the foot of the glen. There
was a grey-bearded Highlander standing very straight and still upon
the pier. Rowena greeted him with a radiant smile. Duncan Cameron had
helped her many a time to stalk a stag. He had also been with her when
she had caught her first salmon many years ago. He was her brother's
head keeper, and had been in his employ for over twenty years.
"Granny was sayin' that you would be wantin' a hand up," he said. "Is
it ill ye are, Miss Rowena?"
"I'm an infirm old woman, Duncan—jumped into my dotage in one black
day! Why, what is that you've got there?"
"'Tis a cheer, miss—a cheer which the Ker-enel ordered to be brought
for ye, an' tis I will be pushin' it up the wee bit brae!"
"Magnificent!" said Rowena, looking at the spick and span invalid's
chair with its soft blue cushions: a lump gathering in her throat at
this proof of her brother's loving forethought.
Helped into it by Ellen, she relapsed into silence, but she was gazing
up the glen with shining eyes. The soft air, the afternoon sun, gilding
the raindrops on the pines and birches, the sweet scents of the
moistened earth underfoot, all soothed and rested her tired spirit.
Along the winding carriage road they went, under an avenue of ashes and
birches; by the side of them a wide trout stream came dashing down from
the heights above, finding its way into the Loch. And then they turned
the corner, and on a flat plateau of green smooth turf, fringed with
pines, lay the house. It was a low, long grey building, with windows
opening out upon the lawn, and creeping roses covering an old rustic
porch, which led into the hall. Inside the pitch-pine floors were
covered with green druggetting. Old Mrs. Mactavish stood curtsying in
the doorway. Rowena took both her wrinkled hands in hers affectionately.
"Here I am and here I shall be till you are sick of the sight of me!"
"Ach now, ma'am, with your jokes! Wae's me if ye will be stretched on
your back a' the days o' sunshine, but I've done as weel as I know how
to mak ye comfortable!"
She led the way into the room which Rowena had chosen for herself.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account