[Robert Falconer by George MacDonald]@TWC D-Link book
Robert Falconer

CHAPTER VI
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A clear but short-sighted eye of a light hazel shone under a smooth thoughtful forehead; a straight and well-elevated, but rather short nose, which left the firm upper lip long and capable of expressing a world of dignified offence, rose over a well-formed mouth, revealing more moral than temperamental sweetness; while the chin was rather deficient than otherwise, and took little share in indicating the remarkable character possessed by the old lady.
After gazing at Robert for some time, she took a piece of oat-cake from a plate by her side, the only luxury in which she indulged, for it was made with cream instead of water--it was very little she ate of anything--and held it out to Robert in a hand white, soft, and smooth, but with square finger tips, and squat though pearly nails.

'Ha'e, Robert,' she said; and Robert received it with a 'Thank you, grannie'; but when he thought she did not see him, slipped it under the table and into his pocket.

She saw him well enough, however, and although she would not condescend to ask him why he put it away instead of eating it, the endeavour to discover what could have been his reason for so doing cost her two hours of sleep that night.

She would always be at the bottom of a thing if reflection could reach it, but she generally declined taking the most ordinary measures to expedite the process.
When Robert had finished his tea, instead of rising to get his books and betake himself to his lessons, in regard to which his grandmother had seldom any cause to complain, although she would have considered herself guilty of high treason against the boy's future if she had allowed herself once to acknowledge as much, he drew his chair towards the fire, and said: 'Grandmamma!' 'He's gaein' to tell me something,' said Mrs.Falconer to herself.

'Will 't be aboot the puir barfut crater they ca' Shargar, or will 't be aboot the piece he pat intil 's pooch ?' 'Weel, laddie ?' she said aloud, willing to encourage him.
'Is 't true that my gran'father was the blin' piper o' Portcloddie ?' 'Ay, laddie; true eneuch.


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