She blushed
like a young girl in the first happiness of the discovery. "How good
he is to me! He remembers my poor old music-book, and keeps it for my
sake." As she sat down by the table and opened the book, the bygone time
came back to her in all its tenderness. The clock struck the half-hour,
struck the three-quarters--and still she sat there, with the music-book
on her lap, dreaming happily over the old songs; thinking gratefully
of the golden days when his hand had turned the pages for her, when his
voice had whispered the words which no woman's memory ever forgets.
Norah roused herself from the volume she was reading, and glanced at the
clock on the library mantel-piece.
"If papa comes back by the railway," she said, "he will be here in ten
minutes."
Miss Garth started, and looked up drowsily from the book which was just
dropping out of her hand.
"I don't think he will come by train," she replied. "He will jog
back--as Magdalen flippantly expressed it--in the miller's gig."
As she said the words, there was a knock at the library door. The
footman appeared, and addressed himself to Miss Garth.
"A person wishes to see you, ma'am.
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