Mrs. Mavor and I were much together during those days. I made my home
in Mr. Craig's shack, but most of my time was spent beside my friend. We
did not see much of Craig, for he was heart-deep with the miners, laying
plans for the making of the League the following Thursday; and though he
shared our anxiety and was ever ready to relieve us, his thought and his
talk had mostly to do with the League.
Mrs. Mavor's evenings were given to the miners, but her afternoons
mostly to Graeme and to me, and then it was I saw another side of her
character. We would sit in her little dining-room, where the pictures on
the walls, the quaint old silver, and bits of curiously cut glass, all
spoke of other and different days, and thence we would roam the world
of literature and art. Keenly sensitive to all the good and beautiful in
these, she had her favourites among the masters, for whom she was ready
to do battle; and when her argument, instinct with fancy and vivid
imagination, failed, she swept away all opposing opinion with the swift
rush of her enthusiasm; so that, though I felt she was beaten, I was
left without words to reply.
Pages:
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81