CHAPTER XXXIV. BLIGHTED BEINGS.
Allen-a-Dale has no faggot for burning,
Allen-a-Dale has no farrow for turning,
Allen-a-Dale has no fleece for the spinning,
Yet Allen-a-Dale has red gold for the winning.
Scott.
The little family raft put forth from the haven of shelter into the
stormy waves. The first experience was, as Jock said, that large
rooms and country clearness had been demoralising, or, as Babie
averred, the bad taste and griminess of the Drake remains were
invincible, for when the old furniture and pictures were all restored
to the old places, the tout ensemble was so terribly dingy and
confined that the mother could hardly believe that it was the same
place that had risen in her schoolgirl eyes as a vision of home
brightness. Armine was magnanimously silent, but what would be the
effect on Allen, who had been heard of at Gibraltar, and was sure to
return before the case was heard in court?
"We must give up old associations, and try what a revolution will
do," Mother Carey said.
"Hurrah!" cried Babie; "I was feeling totally overpowered by that
awful round table, but I thought it was the very core of mother's
heart."
"So did I," said the mother herself, "when I remember how we used to
sit round with the lamp in the middle, and spin the whole table when
we wanted a drawer on the further side.
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