White Heather: A Novel (Volume 3 of 3)Black, William
General
White Heather: A Novel (Volume 3 of 3)
Black, William
Scotland -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
She hesitated for a second or two longer; and then, recalling herself
with an effort, she thanked the minister for all his kindness, and bade
him good-bye, and got into the cab. Of course she kept both windows
down, so that she could command a view of both sides of the
thoroughfares as the man drove her away along the Cowcaddens and the New
City Road. But alas! how was she ever to find Ronald—by accident, as
she had hoped—in that continuous crowd? She had pictured to herself her
suddenly meeting him face to face; and she would read in his eyes how
much he remembered of Inver-Mudal and the olden days. But among this
multitude, how was such a thing possible? And then it was so necessary
that this meeting should be observed by no third person.
However, these anxious doubts and fears were forcibly driven from her
head by her arrival at Queen’s Crescent, and the necessity of meeting
the emergencies of the moment. She had but a half recollection of this
secluded little nook, with its semicircle of plain, neat, well-kept
houses, looking so entirely quiet and respectable; and its pretty little
garden, with its grass-plots, and its flower-plots, and its trim walks
and fountain—all so nice and neat and trim, and at this minute looking
quite cheerful in the pallid sunshine. And here, awaiting her at the
just opened door, was her sister Agatha—a sonsy, sufficiently
good-looking young matron, who had inherited her buxom proportions from
her father, but had got her Highland eyes, which were like Meenie’s,
from her mother. And also there were a smaller Agatha—a self-important
little maiden of ten—and two younger children; and as the advent of this
pretty young aunt from Sutherlandshire was of great interest to them,
there was a babble of inquiries and answers as they escorted her into
the house.
’And such a surprise to hear you were coming,’ her sister was saying.
’We little expected it—but ye’re none the less welcome—and Walter’s just
quite set up about it. Ay, and ye’re not looking so well, my father
says?—let’s see.’
She took her by the shoulders and wheeled her to the light. But, of
course, the girl was flushed with the excitement of her arrival, and
pleased with the attentions of the little people, so that for the moment
the expression of her face was bright enough.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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