still something to do, assured the child that it
would only be a weariness for them both if she were obliged to measure
her steps by those of the bairns, and that they would reach the Stanin'
Stanes before them; though they gave them a whiles start.

"They are doing one another good," said the minister, as they stood at
the door, following with their eyes the stately figure of Allison as she
went steadily down the street, looking neither to the right hand nor the
left. But it was "lanesome like" to go back into the parlour and look
at Marjorie's empty couch.

And Marjorie was moving on, as she sometimes did in her dreams, down the
street, and past the well on the green, and over the burn, and up the
brae, first between hedges that would soon be green, and then between
dikes of turf or grey stone, till at last Allison paused to rest, and
then they turned to look at the town, lying in a soft haze of smoke in
the valley below.

They could see the manse and the kirk and the trees about the garden,
and all the town. They could see the winding course of the burn for a
long way, and Burney's Pot, as they called the pond into which the burn
spread itself before it fell over the dam at Burney's mill. A wide
stretch of farming land rose gradually on the other side of the valley
beyond. Some of the fields were growing green, and there were men
ploughing in other fields, and everywhere it looked peaceful and bright,
"a happy world," Marjorie said. They could see Fir Hill, the house
where Mrs Esselmont lived in summertime--at least they could see the
dark belt of firs that sheltered it from the east and half hid it from
the town.

"It's bonny over yonder. I was there once, and there is such a pretty
garden," said Marjorie.

Then they went on their way. It was the loveliest of spring days. The
sun did not shine quite all the time, because there were soft white
clouds slowly moving over the sky which hid his face now and then. But
the clouds were beautiful and so was their slow movement over the blue,
and the child lay in Allison's arms, and looked up in perfect content.

Spring does not bring all its pleasant things at once in that northern
land. The hedges had begun to show their buds a good while ago, but
they had only buds to show still, and the trees had no more. The grass
was springing by the roadside, and here and there a pale little flower
was seen among it, and the tender green of the young grain began to
ap