Richard goes often to Brier Hill, staying sometimes hours, and
Victor, with his opinion of the "gay widow" somewhat changed, has
more than once hinted at Collingwood how he thinks these visits
will end. But the servants scoffed, at the idea, while Arthur and
Edith look curiously on, half hoping Victor is right, and so that
matter remains in uncertainty.
Across the fields, Grassy Spring still lies a mass of shapeless
ruins. Frequently has Arthur talked of rebuilding it as a home for
his children, but as Richard has always opposed it and Edith is
indifferent, he will probably remain at Collingwood.
Away to the south, the autumn winds blow softly around Sunnybank,
where Edith's negroes are living as happy under the new
administration as the old, speaking often of their beautiful
mistress who, when the winter snows fall on the Bay State hills,
will wend her way to the southward, and Christmas fires will again
be kindled upon the hearthstones left desolate so many years. Nor
is she, whose little grave lies just across the field forgotten.
Pages:
594
595
596
597
598
599
600
601
602
603
604
605
606
607
608
609
610
611
612
613
614
615
616
617
618