moment, and she stood still
and looked down at him. She was not a beautiful lady, nor very young.
Indeed, she was a few years older than the Queen, and the Queen was a
widowed grandmother. But she had a sweet dignity and warm serenity--an
unhurried look, as if she had all the time in the world for a wee dog;
and Bobby was an age-whitened muff of a plaintive terrier that captured
her heart at once. Very certain that this stranger knew and cared about
how he felt, Bobby turned and led her down to Auld Jock's grave. And
when she was seated on the table-tomb he came up to her and let her look
at his collar, and he stood under her caress, although she spoke to
him in fey English, calling him a darling little dog. Then, entirely
contented with her company, he lay down, his eyes fixed upon her and
lolling his tongue.

The sun was on the green and flowery slope of Greyfriars, warming the
weathered tombs and the rear windows of the tenements. The Grand Leddy
found a great deal there to interest her beside Bobby and the robin that
chirped and picked up crumbs between the little dog's paws. Presently
the gate was opened again and' a housemaid from some mansion in George
Square came around the kirk. Trained by Mistress Jeanie, she was a neat
and pretty and pleasant-mannered housemaid, in a black gown and white
apron, and with a frilled cap on her crinkly, gold-brown hair that had
had more than "a lick or twa the nicht afore."

"It's juist Ailie," Bobby seemed to say, as he stood a moment with
crested neck and tail. "Ilka body kens Ailie."

The servant lassie, with an hour out, had stopped to speak to Bobby. She
had not meant to stay long, but the lady, who didn't look in the least
grand, began to think friendly things aloud.

"The windows of the tenements are very clean."

"Ay. The bairnies couldna see Bobby gin the windows warna washed." The
lassie was pulling her adored little pet's ears, and Bobby was nuzzling
up to her.

"In many of the windows there is a box of flowers, or of kitchen herbs
to make the broth savory."

"It wasna so i' the auld days. It was aye washin's clappin' aboon the
stanes. Noo, mony o' the mithers hang the claes oot at nicht. Ilka thing
is changed sin' I was a wean an' leevin' i' the auld Guildhall, the
bairnies haen Bobby to lo'e, an' no' to be neglectet." She continued the
conversation to include Tammy as he came around the kirk on his tapping
crutches.

"Hoo mony years is it, Tammy, sin' Bobby