"Ye're a camstairie (perverse) lassie," said Bruce, pushing her away
with a forceful acidity in the combination of tone and push.
She walked off to bed, caring nothing for his rebuke. For since Alec's
kindness had opened to her a well of the water of life, she had almost
ceased to suffer from the ungeniality of her guardians. She forgot them
as soon as she was out of their sight. And certainly they were nicer to
forget than to remember.
CHAPTER XVIII. [sic, should be XXII.]
As soon as she was alone in her room she drew from her pocket a parcel
containing something which Dowie had bought for her on their way home.
When undone it revealed two or three tallow candles, a precious present
in view of her hopes. But how should she get a light--for this was long
before lucifer matches had risen even upon the horizon of Glamerton?
There was but one way.
She waited, sitting on the edge of her bed, in the cold and darkness,
until every sound in the house had ceased. Then she stepped cautiously
down the old stair, which would crack now and then, use what care and
gentleness she might.
It was the custom in all the houses of Glamerton to _rest_ the fire;
that is, to keep it gently alive all night by the help of a _truff_, or
sod cut from the top of a peat-moss--a coarse peat in fact, more loose
and porous than the peat proper--which they laid close down upon the
fire, destroying almost all remaining draught by means of coal-dust.
Pages:
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192