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MacDonald, George, 1824-1905

"Alec Forbes of Howglen"

I wish you would make it up with
him for my sake, Patrick. He may be uncouth and awkward--I don't
know--but that's no reason for hating him. I love you so that I could
love anybody that loved you. You don't know how I love you,
Patrick--though you are unkind sometimes. The world used to look so
cold, and narrow, and grey; but now there is a flush like sunset over
everything, and I am so happy! Patrick, don't make me do things before
my cousin that will hurt him."
Alec knew that she pressed closer to Beauchamp, and offered him her
face.
"Listen, my Kate," said Beauchamp. "I know there are things you cannot
bear to hear; but you must hear this."
"No, no, not now!" answered Kate, shuddering.
Alec knew how she looked--saw her with the eyes of his memory as she
had looked once or twice--and listened unconscious of any existence but
that of hearing.
"You must, Kate, and you shall," said Beauchamp. "You asked me only
yesterday how I came by that scar on my lip. I will tell you. I rebuked
that cousin of yours for unmanly behaviour in the dissecting-room, the
very first time he entered it. He made no reply; but when we came out,
he struck me."
The icy mood passed away, and such a glow of red anger rushed through
Alec's veins, that he felt as if the hot blast from molten metal were
playing upon his face.


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