Page:Mehalah 1920.djvu/233

 CHAPTER XXII THE LAST STRAW

was lost to consciousness, leaning on the gate, her aching brow and leaden eyes in her hand. She did not hear the larks that sang above her, nor see the buttercups and daisies that smiled to her from below. By the gate was a willow covered with furry flower now ripe and shedding its golden pollen. The soft air scattered the delicate yellow dust over the girl's hair and neck and shoulders, a minute golden powder, but she noticed it not. The warm air played caressingly with some of her dark hair, and the sun brought out its copper glow—she was unaware of all.

A little blue butterfly flickered above her and lighted on her head, which lay so still that the insect had no fear.

Then a hand shook the gate.

"Gone to sleep, girl? " asked a female voice.

Mehalah looked up dreamily.

A young, handsome, and dashing lady before her, in white and carnation, a crimson feather in her hat, and carmine in her cheeks. Mehalah slowly recognised Admonition.

Mrs. Pettican looked curiously at her.

"Who are you?—Oh! I know, the girl Sharland!" and she laughed.

Mehalah put her hand to the latch to open the gate.

"You need not trouble," said Admonition: "I want nothing from you. I have heard of you. You are the young person," with an affected cough, "whom Master Rebow has taken to live with him, I think. You had the assurance once to come to my dear husband, and to pester him."

"He was kind to me," said Mehalah to herself.

"Oh, yes, he was very kind indeed. He did not know much of you then. Report had not made him familiar with your name."

Mehalah looked moodily at her. It was of no use pretending to misunderstand her. It was of no use resenting the insinuation. She sullenly bore the blow and suffered. 8*