dear sometime comrade
and gossip. In a little she came forth, but what a leap my heart gave
when I saw how pale she looked. Her hand and arm were bandaged, and she
leaned lightly on Kate's shoulder.

Do you wonder that my desire went out to her greatly, and that all in a
moment I sprang down the rickle of stones as if they had been a made
road?

"Maisie, Maisie, wha has done this to ye, my lassie?" I cried, or
something like that (for I do not mind the words very well). And with
that she fell to the greeting--the lass that never grat whatever was
wrong, so that I was fair beside myself to see her. And Kate McGhie
pushed me forward by the shoulder, and made signs frowningly, which I
could not understand. I thought she meant that I was to go away till
Maisie had somewhat recovered herself.

Very obediently I made to do so, and was for stealing away up the hill
again, when Kate stamped her foot and said suddenly, "If ye daur----!"
So I abode where I was, till it seemed to me that Maisie was about to
fall, being yet weak. So I went to hold her up, and as soon as I did so,
Kate McGhie slipped out of sight. Now, I think she did this of
intention, for when she convoyed me a little down the hill, when I went
in the evening, she rallied me very sorely.

"Man William Gordon," she said; "I e'en thocht I wad hae to pit your
airms aboot her, and tell ye what to say. Ye maun be a queer make o' men
up about the Glenkens. I thank a merciful Providence that we have
another kind o' them about the headend o' Balmaghie!"

But when she left us I needed no instruction. With the best will in the
world I fell to comforting Maisie; and though I put not down the matter
of our discourse (which concerned only ourselves), I can vouch for it
that speedily we were at one. And for a long season I sat on the grey
bowder stones of the gairy and made much of her in another fashion than
that of a comrade.

Then after this our first pleasuring was by-past, she told me how that
Kate and she had come away to seek for her father, because of the report
that had come of his danger and illness; but that an accident had
befallen them upon the way, and they had failed of their errand. What
the accident was she would not tell me, saying that Kate McGhie would be
fond enough to give me the story. Then they had built this bower by the
burnside, where ever since they had remained safe and unmolested.

I asked how they got their provender.

"O," she said, "H