"Jeanie Was A Distant Connexion Of My Uncle's, And She Found Us Out
That Night, On Her Return To The Village, And Told Us All Her
Grief.
My aunt, who was a kind good woman, was indignant at the
treatment she had recieved; and loved and cherished her as if she
had been her own child.
"For two whole weeks she kept her bed, and was so ill that the
doctor despaired of her life; and when she did come again among us,
the colour had faded from her cheeks, and the light from her sweet
blue eyes, and she spoke in a low subdued voice, but she never
spoke of _him_ as the cause of her grief.
"One day she called me aside and said -
"'Jamie, you know how I lo'ed an' trusted _him,_ an' obeyed his ain
wishes in comin' out to this strange country to be his wife. But
'tis all over now,' and she pressed her sma' hands tightly over her
breast to keep doon the swelling o' her heart. 'Jamie, I know now
that it is a' for the best; I lo'ed him too weel - mair than ony
creature sud lo'e a perishing thing o' earth. But I thought that he
wud be sae glad an' sae proud to see his ain Jeanie sae sune. But,
oh! - ah, weel! - I maun na think o' that; what I wud jist say is
this,' an' she took a sma' packet fra' her breast, while the tears
streamed down her pale cheeks.
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