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MacDonald, George, 1824-1905

"Mary Marston"

Opening a door where had
been none, he brought a chair, and making her sit down, began to
blow the covered fire on the hearth, where he had not long before
"boiled his kettle" for his tea. Then closing the door, he
lighted a candle, and Mary looking about her could scarcely
believe the change that had come upon the miserable vacuity.
Joseph sat down upon his anvil, and begged to know where she had
just been, and how far she had run from the rascal. When he had
learned something of the peculiar relations in which Mary stood
to the family at Durnmelling, he began to think there might have
been something more in the pursuit than a chance ruffianly
assault, and the greater were his regrets that he had not secured
the miscreant.
"Anyhow, miss," he said, "you'll never come from there alone in
the dark again!"
"I understand you, Joseph," answered Mary, "for I know you would
not have me leave doing what I can for the poor man up there,
because of a little danger in the way."
"No, that I wouldn't, miss. That would be as much as to say you
would do the will of God when the devil would let you. What I
mean is, that here am I--your slave, or servant, or soldier, or
whatever you may please to call me, ready at your word."
"I must not take you from your work, you know, Joseph."
"Work's not everything, miss," he answered; "and it's seldom so
pressing but that--except I be shoeing a horse--I can leave it
when I choose.


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