s pure as pure could be."

"Oh, go on, please!" murmured Rose, all unconscious that she was the
Kilmeny of her friend's thoughts:--

"It was only to hear the yorlin sing,
And pu' the cress-flower round the spring;
The scarlet hypp and the hindberrye,
And the nut that hung frae the hazel-tree:
For Kilmeny was pure as pure could be.
But lang may her minny look o'er the wa',
And lang may she seek i' the greenwood shaw;
Lang the Laird of Duneira blame,
And lang, lang greet or Kilmeny come hame.

"When many a day had come and fled,
When grief grew calm, and hope was dead;
When mass for Kilmeny's soul had been sung,
When the bedesman had prayed and the dead-bell rung;
Late, late in a gloamin', when all was still,
When the fringe was red on the westlin hill,
The wood was sear, the moon i' the wane,
The reek o' the cot hung over the plain,
Like a little wee cloud in the world its lane;
When the ingle lowed with an eiry leme,
Late, late in the gloamin' Kilmeny cam hame."

Here Hildegarde stopped suddenly; for some one had come along the road,
and was standing still, leaning against the fence, and apparently
listening. It was a boy about eleven years old. He was neatly dressed,
but his clothes were covered with dust, and his broad-brimmed straw hat
was slouched over his eyes so that it nearly hid his face, which was
also turned away from the girls. But though he was apparently gazing
earnestly in the opposite direction, still there was an air of
consciousness about his whole figure, and Hildegarde was quite sure that
he had been listening to her. She waited a few minutes; and then, as the
boy showed no sign of moving on, she called out, "What is it, please? Do
you want something?"

The boy made an awkward movement with his shoulders, and without turning
round replied in an odd voice, half whine, half growl, "Got any cold
victuals, lady?"

"Come in!" said Hildegarde, rising, though she was not attracted either
by the voice, nor by the lad's shambling, uncivil manner,--"come in, and
I will get you something to eat."

The boy still kept his back turned to her, but began sidling slowly
toward the gate, with a clumsy, crab-like motion. "I'm a poor feller,
lady!" he whined, in the same disagreeable tone. "I ain't had nothin' to
eat for a week, and