'"
"But a revulsion passed thro' the brain and bosom of Elspie;
And she got up from her seat on the rock, putting by her knitting,
Went to him where he stood, and answered:
"'No, Mr. Philip:
No; you are good, Mr. Philip, and gentle; and I am the foolish:
No, Mr. Philip; forgive me.'
"She stepped right to him, and boldly
Took up his hand, and placed it in her's, he daring no movement;
Took up the cold hanging hand, up-forcing the heavy elbow.
'I am afraid,' she said; 'but I will;' and kissed the fingers.
And he fell on his knees, and kissed her own past counting......
"As he was kissing her fingers, and knelt on the ground before her,
Yielding, backward she sank to her seat, and, of what she was doing
Ignorant, bewildered, in sweet multitudinous vague emotion,
Stooping, knowing not what, put her lips to the curl on his forehead.
And Philip, raising himself, gently, for the first time, round her
Passing his arms, close, close, enfolded her close to his bosom.
"As they went home by the moon, 'Forgive me, Philip,' she whispered:
'I have so many things to talk of all of a sudden,
I who have never once thought a thing in my ignorant Highlands.'"
--pp. 39-44.
We may spare criticism here, for what reader will not have felt such
poetry? There is something in this of the very tenderness of
tenderness; this is true delicacy, fearless and unembarrassed.
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