'' I was silenced at once, and felt how little
all earthly accommodation must seem to the mind
which had such subjects as hers for rumination.
Without again attempting to open the conversation,
I took a piece of gold from my purse, (for
Donald had intimated she lived on alms,) expecting
she would at least stretch her hand to receive
it. But she neither accepted nor rejected the gift
---she did not even seem to notice it, though twenty
times as valuable, probably, as was usually offered.
I was obliged to place it on her knee, saying involuntarily,
as I did so, ``May God pardon you,
and relieve you!'' I shall never forget the look
which she cast up to Heaven, nor the tone in which
she exclaimed, in the very words of my old friend,
John Home---
``My beautiful---my brave!''
It was the language of nature, and arose from the
heart of the deprived mother, as it did from that
gifted imaginative poet, while furnishing with appropriate
expressions the ideal grief of Lady Randolph.
CHAPTER II.
O, I'm come to the Low Country,
Och, och, ohonochie,
Without a penny in my pouch
To buy a meal for me.
I was the proudest of my clan,
Long, long may I repine;
And Donald was the bravest man,
And Donald he was mine.
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