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"Donal Grant, by George MacDonald"

His wife was a very lovely, but delicate woman,
and latterly all but confined to her room. Since her death a great
change had passed upon her husband. Certainly his behaviour was
sometimes hard to understand.
"He never gangs to the kirk--no ance in a twalmonth!" said Mrs.
Brookes. "Fowk sud be dacent, an' wha ever h'ard o' dacent fowk 'at
didna gang to the kirk ance o' the Sabbath! I dinna haud wi' gaein'
twise mysel': ye hae na time to read yer ain chapters gien ye do
that. But the man's a weel behavet man, sae far as ye see, naither
sayin' nor doin' the thing he shouldna: what he may think, wha's to
say! the mair ten'er conscience coonts itsel' the waur sinner; an'
I'm no gaein' to think what I canna ken! There's some 'at says he
led a gey lowse kin' o' a life afore he cam to bide wi' the auld
yerl; he was wi' the airmy i' furreign pairts, they say; but aboot
that I ken naething. The auld yerl was something o' a sanct
himsel', rist the banes o' 'im! We're no the jeedges o' the leevin'
ony mair nor o' the deid! But I maun awa' to luik efter things; a
minute's an hoor lost wi' thae fule lasses. Ye're a freen' o'
An'rew Comin's, they tell me, sir: I dinna ken what to do wi' 's
lass, she's that upsettin'! Ye wad think she was ane o' the faimily
whiles; an' ither whiles she 's that silly!"
"I'm sorry to hear it!" said Donal. "Her grandfather and grandmother
are the best of good people.


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