Page 199 - A Little Bush Maid

"Why?" asked Norah blankly.

"Because--because people don’t think much of me, Miss Norah," he said, a
deep shade falling on his fine old face. "They say T’m no good. T don’t

suppose T’d be allowed to be here, only T’m an old man, and T’m going to
die."

"But you’re not!" Norah cried. "Dr. Anderson says you’re not!
And--and--oh, you’re making a great mistake. Everyone wants you."

"Me!" said the Hermit, in sudden bitter scorn. "No, only strangers like you.
Not my own."

"Oh, you don’t know," Norah protested. She was painfully aware of the

order not to excite the patient, but it was awful to let him be so unhappy!
"Dad’s not a stranger--he always knew you. And see how he wants you!"

"Dad?" the Hermit questioned feebly. "Ts David Linton your father?" She
nodded, and for a minute he was silent. "No wonder you and T were

friends!" he said. "But you’re not all--not even you and Davy."

"No, but-- "

He forced a smile, in pity for her perplexity.

"Dear little girl, you don’t understand," he said. "There’s something even
friendship can’t wipe out, though such friendship as your father’s can bridge

it over. But it’s always there-- a black, cruel gulf. And that’s disgrace!"

Norah could not bear the misery of his eyes.

"But if it’s all a horrible mistake?" she said. "Tf everybody knew it--?"

"Tf it’s a mistake!"