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Stevenson, Robert Louis, 1850-1894

"Catriona"


"All we forfeited folk hang a little together," he explained, "and
besides I know the gentleman: and though his descent is not the
thing, and indeed he has no true right to use the name of Stewart,
he was very much admired in the day of Drummossie. He did there
like a soldier; if some that need not be named had done as well,
the upshot need not have been so melancholy to remember. There
were two that did their best that day, and it makes a bond between
the pair of us," says he.
I could scarce refrain from shooting out my tongue at him, and
could almost have wished that Alan had been there to have inquired
a little further into that mention of his birth. Though, they tell
me, the same was indeed not wholly regular.
Meanwhile, I had opened Miss Grant's, and could not withhold an
exclamation.
"Catriona," I cried, forgetting, the first time since her father
was arrived, to address her by a handle, "I am come into my kingdom
fairly, I am the laird of Shaws indeed--my uncle is dead at last."
She clapped her hands together leaping from her seat. The next
moment it must have come over both of us at once what little cause
of joy was left to either, and we stood opposite, staring on each
other sadly.


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