"
That made me recall something.
"Was that why you started when I told you about Elspeth?" I asked.
"Yes. Perhaps the one you played with was a little descendant who had
inherited her name," he answered, a trifle hurriedly. "I confess I was
startled for a moment."
I put my hand up to my forehead and rubbed it unconsciously. I could not
help seeing a woesome picture.
"Poor little soul, with the blood pouring from her heart and her brown
hair spread over her dead father's breast!" I stopped, because a faint
memory came back to me. "Mine," I stammered--"mine--how strange!--had
a great stain on the embroideries of her dress. She looked at it--and
looked. She looked as if she didn't like it--as if she didn't understand
how it came there. She covered it with ferns and bluebells."
I felt as if I were being drawn away into a dream. I made a sudden
effort to come back. I ceased rubbing my forehead and dropped my hand,
sitting upright.
"I must ask Angus and Jean to tell me about her," I said. "Of course,
they must have known. I wonder why I never thought of asking questions
before."
It was a strange look I met when I involuntarily turned toward him--such
an absorbed, strange, tender look!
I knew he sat quite late in the library that night, talking to Angus
after his mother and I went to our rooms. Just as I was falling asleep
I remember there floated through my mind a vague recollection of
what Angus had said to me of asking his advice about something; and I
wondered if he would reach the subject in their talk, or if they would
spend all their time in poring over manuscripts and books together.
Pages:
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76