SEARCH
0-9 A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Prev | Current Page 130 | Next

Burnett, Frances Hodgson, 1849-1924

"The Head of the House of Coombe"

To adore anything which belonged
to Donal was only nature. And this tall, fair, wonderful person
was a Mother. No wonder Donal talked of her so much. The child could
only look up at her as Donal did. So they stood hand in hand like
little worshippers before a deity.
Andrews' sister in her pride had attired the small creature like
a flower of Spring. Her exquisiteness and her physical brilliancy
gave Mrs. Muir something not unlike a slight shock. Oh! no wonder--since
she was like that. She stooped and kissed the round cheek delicately.
"Donal wanted me to see his little friend," she said. "I always
want to see his playmates. Shall we walk round the Garden together
and you shall show me where you play and tell me all about it."
She took the small hand and they walked slowly. Robin was at
first too much awed to talk but as Donal was not awed at all and
continued his prancing and the Mother lady said pretty things
about the flowers and the grass and the birds and even about the
pony at Braemarnie, she began now and then to break into a little
hop herself and presently into sudden ripples of laughter like
a bird's brief bubble of song. The tall lady's hand was not like
Andrews, or the hand of Andrews' sister. It did not pull or jerk
and it had a lovely feeling. The sensation she did not know was
happiness again welled up within her. Just one walk round the
Garden and then the tall lady sat down on a seat to watch them play.


Pages:
118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142