When Grey was first laid in her arms, and she saw in his great blue eyes
a look like those other eyes hidden beneath the coffin-lid, she felt as
if Robbie had come back to her, and there awoke within her a love for
the child greater even than his own mother felt for him. And yet, so
wholly unselfish was her nature that she never mourned or uttered a word
of protest when, as the boy grew older, he evinced a preference for the
farm-house in the pasture, rather than for the grand old place at Grey's
Park, where, since her sister's marriage and her father's death, she had
lived alone.
"Hannah needs him more than I do," she would say to herself, but her
sweet face was always brighter, and in her great black eyes there was a
softer light when she knew he was coming to break the monotony of her
lonely life.
After her marriage, Geraldine did not often honor Allington with her
presence. It was far too quiet there to suit her, and Lucy lived too
much the life of a recluse. No little breakfasts, no lunches, no evening
parties at which she could display her elegant Paris costumes; nothing
except now and then a stupid dinner party, to which the rector and his
wife were invited, and that detestable Miss McPherson, who said such
rude things, and told her her complexion was not what it used to be, and
that she looked older than her sister Lucy.
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