ere a bad one, for they stoned her
out of Thrums. I dinna know where she is now, but she were stoned out of
Thrums!"

"No alane?"

"There was a man with her, and his name was--it was--"

His mother clasped her hands nervously while Tommy tried to remember the
name. "His name was Magerful Tam," he said at length.

"Ay," said his mother, knitting her teeth, "that was his name."

"I dinna mind any more," Tommy concluded. "Yes, I mind they aye called
Aaron Latta 'Poor Aaron Latta.'"

"Did they? I warrant, though, there wasna one as said 'Poor Jean
Myles'?"

She began the question in a hard voice, but as she said "Poor Jean
Myles" something caught in her throat, and she sobbed, painful dry sobs.

"How could they pity her when she were such a bad one?" Tommy answered
briskly.

"Is there none to pity bad ones?" said his sorrowful mother.

Elspeth plucked her by the skirt. "There's God, ain't there?" she said,
inquiringly, and getting no answer she flopped upon her knees, to say a
babyish prayer that would sound comic to anybody except to Him to whom
it was addressed.

"You ain't praying for a woman as was a disgrace to Thrums!" Tommy
cried, jealously, and he was about to raise her by force, when his
mother stayed his hand.

"Let her alane," she said, with a twitching mouth and filmy eyes. "Let
her alane. Let my bairn pray for Jean Myles."

CHAPTER VII

COMIC OVERTURE TO A TRAGEDY

"Jean Myles bides in London" was the next remarkable news brought by
Tommy from Thrums Street. "And that ain't all, Magerful Tam is her man;
and that ain't all, she has a laddie called Tommy and that ain't all,
Petey and the rest has never seen her in London, but she writes letters
to Thrums folks and they writes to Petey and tells him what she said.
That ain't all neither, they canna find out what street she bides in,
but it's on the bonny side of London, and it's grand, and she wears silk
clothes, and her Tommy has velvet trousers, and they have a servant as
calls him 'sir.' Oh, I would just like to kick him! They often looks for
her in the grand streets, but they're angry at her getting on so well,
and Martha Scrymgeour said it were enough to make good women like her
stop going reg'lar to the kirk."

"Martha said that!" exclaimed his mother, highly pleased. "Heard you
anything of a woman called Esther Auld? Her man does the orra work at
the Tappit Hen public in Thrums."

"He's head man at the Tappit Hen public now,"