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Glasgow, Ellen Anderson Gholson, 1873-1945

"The Miller Of Old Church"

"
"In spite of it all I know that Jonathan hated lies," said Molly almost
fiercely.
"Our first thought must be to spare her," answered the lawyer. "It
was her son's endeavour always, just as it was my poor old friend
Jonathan's. If you will come with me into the library," he added to
Kesiah, "we will take a few minutes to look over the papers I have
arranged."
They moved away, walking side by side with halting steps, as though
they were crushed by age, and yet were trying to the last to keep up an
appearance of activity. For a minute Molly gazed after them. Then
her eyes wandered to the light that shimmered over the meadows, and
descending the stone steps into the side-garden, she walked slowly
through the miniature maze, where the paths were buried deep in
wine-coloured leaves which had drifted from the half bared trees on the
lawn. Abel was coming, she knew, and she waited for him in a stillness
that seemed akin to that softly breathing plant life around her. It was
the hour for which she had hungered for weeks, yet now that it had come,
she could hardly recognize it for the thing she had wanted.


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