"
She opened the door with a slight knock and went in. An odd sight met
her eyes.
By the table stood the vigorous figure of old Rachel Ray, handsome yet,
with the dark gipsy characteristics of her grandchildren--before her
the tall fine figure of John Johnstone in full hunting scarlet, just
stooping in the act of giving her a kiss.
The old woman started, and pushed him aside when she saw Betty come in.
She advanced to meet her visitor, who stood during the space of a minute
without advancing, so great was her astonishment.
"You are surprised to see an old woman kiss her nursling," cried old
Rachel. "But it would be odd if he did not, bless his brave heart!"
"Not surprised at his kissing you, Dame Rachel," said Betty, a little
less steadily than usual. "But I did not know that you were acquainted,
I thought Mr. Johnstone was a stranger to this part of the world."
The old woman turned her eyes on the young man, eyes brimming with
burning tears, and with a look of entreaty in them.
John Johnstone gave a little impatient stamp of the foot.
It seemed to Betty watching them, that thus he gave a mute answer to
some mute question or entreaty made.
"Sit down, sit down, my pretty lady," said Rachel drawing forward and
dusting a chair. "You are welcome as flowers in May, or as the first
swallow that heralds the spring.
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