Читать книгу The Primrose Path: A Chapter in the Annals of the Kingdom of Fife онлайн

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“Is she the lady with the silk gown?”

“She is the Rustle,” said Margaret, not disposed to treat the family ghost lightly. “You never see her, you only hear as if a grand lady walked by with her train sweeping. I think there is that very train in the old aumrie, as Bell calls it. But what I was saying was, because it is so old, Mr. Glen, because it’s not grand, nor even comfortable—oh, I would like a bonnie picture, a real beautiful picture, of poor old Earl’s-hall!”

“You must make one,” he said.

“Yes, if I can; but you must make one first. You must take a big sheet of paper and draw it all out; I will show you the best view; and you must paint in every bit of it, the tower and the view from the tower (but, perhaps, after all, it would be difficult to put in the view, you must make another picture of that); and you must put it up in a beautiful frame, and write upon it ‘Old Earl’s-hall.’ Oh! that will make Jean and Grace jump. They will say, ‘Who can have done it? Earl’s-hall—papa’s place—that horrid, tumble-down old Scotch crow’s-nest!’” Margaret was a mimic, without knowing it, and mouthed this forth with the warmest relish in Mrs. Bellingham’s very tone. But her own acting of her elder sister called forth lively indignation in the girl’s warlike soul. “That’s what they dare to call it,” she cried, stopping to stamp her foot. “My Earl’s-hall! But this is what you will do, Mr. Glen, if you want to please me. You will make a picture—not a common thing—a beautiful picture, that everybody will talk about; and send it to the biggest place in London, in the season when everybody is there, and hang it up for everybody to see.”