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MacDonald, George, 1824-1905

"Malcolm"

But, indeed, what could such
a man have done for the education of a young girl? How many of the
qualities he understood and enjoyed in women could he desire to
see developed in his daughter? There was yet enough of the father
in him to expect those qualities in her to which in other women he
had been an insidious foe; but had he not done what in him lay to
destroy his right of claiming such from her?
So Lady Florimel was running wild, and enjoying it. As long as she
made her appearance at meals, and looked happy, her father would
give himself no trouble about her. How he himself managed to live
in those first days without company--what he thought about or
speculated upon, it were hard to say. All he could be said to do
was to ride here and there over the estate with his steward, Mr
Crathie, knowing little and caring less about farming, or crops,
or cattle. He had by this time, however, invited a few friends to
visit him, and expected their arrival before long.
"How do you like this dull life, Flory?" he said, as they walked
up the garden to breakfast.
"Dull, papa!" she returned. "You never were at a girls' school, or
you wouldn't call this dull. It is the merriest life in the world.
To go where you like, and have miles of room! And such room! It's
the loveliest place in the world, papa!"
He smiled a small, satisfied smile, and stooping stroked his Demon.

CHAPTER XIV: MEG PARTAN'S LAMP

Malcolm went down the riverside, not over pleased with the marquis;
for, although unconscious of it as such, he had a strong feeling
of personal dignity.


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