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"Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume XXII"

"
"It is gone," said I; "and I am gone also--to finish my bottle of
Burgundy, which I have as little doubt was commissioned from finitude
to strike a little fire into the heart of another erring mortal, not at
this moment perfectly happy."
And I made my way as quick as possible into the parlour, glad to get
quit of the chill of the night air. Meanwhile, there appeared signs of
some extraordinary movement in the other parts of the house, the nature
of which Graeme probably ascertained as he came along the lobby, for I
heard bustling and earnest conversation; and presently little Edith came
stepping in beside me, with something very mysterious in her blue eyes,
far too mysterious for being confided to loud words, and so a whisper
told me that her mother was taken ill, and that Dr. Rogers had been sent
for. This little bit of information carried more to my mind than it
brought away from Edith's. I knew before that Mrs. Graeme was on the eve
of confinement, and it now appeared she had been taken in labour. I saw,
too, that my visit had not been very well timed, and the worse that
Graeme himself was in the extraordinary frame of mind in which I found
him--unfit for facing the dangers, repaying the affections, performing
the duties, and receiving the honours or enjoying the hopes of his
situation.


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