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"Donal Grant, by George MacDonald"

"
"You don't imagine I would be indebted--"
"Hush! Hush! Don't pledge yourself in a hurry--even to me!" said
Kate. "Leave as wide a sea-margin about your boat as you may. You
don't know what you would or would not. Mr. Grant knows, but you do
not."
"Mr. Grant again!--Well!"
"Well!--we shall see!"
And they soon did. For that same evening Donal called, and asked to
see Miss Graeme.
"I am sorry my brother is gone down to the town," she said.
"It was you I wanted to see," he answered. "I wish to speak openly
to you, for I imagine you will understand me better than your
brother. Perhaps I ought rather to say--I shall be better able to
explain myself to you."
There was that in his countenance which seemed to seize and hold
her--a calm exaltation, as of a man who had outlived weakness and
was facing the eternal. The spirit of a smile hovered about his
mouth and eyes, embodying itself now and then in a grave, sweet,
satisfied smile: the man seemed full of content, not with himself,
but with something he would gladly share.
"I have been talking with your brother," he said, after a brief
pause.
"I know," she answered. "I am afraid he did not meet you as he
ought. He is a good and honourable man; but like most men he needs a
moment to pull himself together. Few men, Mr. Grant, when suddenly
called upon, answer from the best that is in them.


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