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"Donal Grant, by George MacDonald"

"
"Eh, but ye speyk like my Anerew!" cried the poor woman, wiping her
old eyes with her rough apron. "I s' do what I can for her; but
there's no hidin' o' 't!"
"Hidin' o' 't!" cried Donal. "The Lord forbid! Sic things are no to
be hidden! Sae lang 's she 's i' the warl', the thing has to be
kenned o' a' 'at come nigh her. She maun beir her burden, puir lass!
The Lord he'll lichten 't til her, but he'll hae naething smugglet
up. That's no the w'y o' his kingdom!--I suppose there's nae doobt
wha?"
"Nane. The Lord forbid!"
Two days after, Mr. Graeme and his sister returned, and at lady
Arctura's request took up their abode at the castle. She told them
that of late she had become convinced her uncle was no longer
capable of attending to her affairs; that he was gone to London;
that she had gone away with him, and was supposed to be with him
still, though she had returned, and he did not know where she was.
She did not wish him to know, but desired for the present to remain
concealed. She had her reasons; and requested therefore as a
personal favour that they would not once or to any one allude to her
being at the castle. Mr. Graeme would in the meantime be so good as
make himself acquainted, so far as possible, with the state of
affairs between her and her uncle.
In the course of the investigations thereupon following, it became
clear that a large portion of the moneys of the estate received by
his lordship were nowise accounted for.


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