The Lilac Sunbonnet by S. R. (Samuel Rutherford) Crockett
page 54 of 368 (14%)
page 54 of 368 (14%)
![]() | ![]() |
|
"It WAS a great day," Walter Skirving muttered, letting his arm
rest on the little square deal table which stood beside him with his great Bible open upon it--"a great day--aye, Maister Peden's laddie i' my hoose! He's welcome, he's mair nor welcome." So saying, he turned his eyes once more on the blue mist that filled the wide Grannoch Valley, and the bees hummed again in the honey-scented marshmallows so that all heard them. "This is my grandmother," said Winsome, who stood quite quiet behind her chair, swinging the sunbonnet in her hand. From her flower-set corner the old lady held out her band. With a touch of his father's old-fashioned courtesy he stooped and kissed it. Winsome instinctively put her hand quickly behind her as though he had kissed that. Once such practices have a beginning, who knows where they may end? She had not expected it of him, though, curiously, she thought no worse of him for his gallantry. But the lady of Craig Ronald was obviously greatly pleased. "The lad has guid bluid in him. That's the minnie [mother] o' him, nae doot. She was a Gilchrist o' Linwood on Nithsdale. What she saw in your faither to tak' him I dinna ken ony mair than I ken hoo it cam' to pass that I am the mistress o' Walter Skirving's hoose the day.--Come oot ahint my chair, lassie; dinna be lauchin' ahint folks's backs. D'ye think I'm no mistress o' my ain hoose yet, for a' that ye are sic a grand hoosekeeper wi' your way o't." The accusation was wholly gratuitous. Winsome had been grave with a great gravity. But she came obediently out, and seated herself |
|