und, and the outlook, usually so
far-reaching from that vantage-ground, was bounded by a thick sea-fog
that the east wind was carrying up from the Forth and dispensing with
lavish hands on all sides. The buildings had a grim, black look, as if a
premature old age had come upon them, and the black pinnacles of the
Monument stood out sharply defined in clear-cut, harsh distinctness
against the floating gray background. There were not many people
stirring in the streets. It was a depressing atmosphere, and Miss
Mackenzie observed before long that Baubie either seemed to have become
influenced by it or that the novelty of the cab-ride had worn off
completely. They crossed the Water of Leith, worn to a mere brown thread
owing to the long drought, by Stockbridge street bridge, and a few yards
from it found themselves before a gray stone house separated from the
street by a grass-plot surrounded by a stone wall: inside the wall grew
chestnut and poplar trees, which in summer must have shaded the place
agreeably, but which this day, in the cold gray mist, seemed almost
funereal in their gloomy blackness. The gate was opened from within the
wall as soon as Miss Mackenzie rang, and she and Baubie walked up the
little flagged path together. As the gate clanged to behind them Baubie
looked back involuntarily and sighed.

"Don't fear, lassie," said her guide: "they will be very kind to you
here. And it will be just a good home for you."

It may be questioned whether this promise of a good home awoke any
pleasing associations or carried with it any definite meaning to Baubie
Wishart's mind. She glanced up as if to show that she understood, but
her eyes turned then and rested on the square front of the little
old-fashioned gray house with its six staring windows and its front
circumscribed by the wall and the black poplars and naked chestnuts, and
she choked down another sigh.

"Now, Mrs. Duncan," Miss Mackenzie was saying to a comfortably-dressed
elderly woman, "here's your new girl, Baubie Wishart."

"Eh, ye've been successful then, Miss Mackenzie?"

"Oh dear, yes: the sheriff made no objection. And now, Mrs. Duncan, I
hope she will be a good girl and give you no trouble.--Come here,
Baubie, and promise me to do everything you are told and obey Mrs.
Duncan in everything."

"Yes, mem," answered Bauble reverently, almost solemnly.

There seemed to be no necessity for further exhortation. Baubie's
demeanor promised everything t