things; I know so little. I could keep your house,
and--and care for you in that way; but I have seen so little. I am only
an ignorant country girl--"

"Yes; I thought that myself once," said Mr Stewart.

"You must have thought it many times," said Shenac with a pang. It was
not pleasant to hear it from his lips, let it be ever so true. But it
took the quiver from her voice, and gave her courage to go on, "And all
you care for is so different from anything I have ever seen or known, I
should be quite left out of your real life. You do not need me for
that, I know; but I don't think I could bear it--to be so near you and
so little to you."

She rose to go. She was trembling very much, and could hardly utter the
words.

"You are very kind, and I thank you; but--you know I am not fit. An
ignorant country girl--you have said so yourself."

"Shall I tell you when I thought so, Shenac? Do you mind the night that
I brought little Flora home, crying with the cold? It was the first
time I saw your face. Do you mind how you comforted Flora, and put the
little lads to shame for having left her? And then you thanked me, and
asked me to sit down. And do you mind how you made pancakes for supper,
and never let one of them burn, though you were listening all the time
to Hamish and me? I remember everything that happened that night,
Shenac--how you put away the things, and made a new band for the
mother's wheel, and took up the lost loops in little Flora's stocking.
Then you helped the little lads with their tables, and kept Dan in
order, listening all the time to your brother and me; and, best of all,
you bade me be sure and come again. Have you forgotten, Shenac?"

"It was for the sake of Hamish," said Shenac, dropping her head; but she
raised it again quickly. "That does not make any difference."

"Listen. That night, as I went over the fields to Angus Dhu's, I said
to myself that if ever I grew strong and well again, if ever I should
live to have a kirk and a manse of my own--was I too bold, Shenac?--I
said to myself you should help me to do my work in them as I ought."

Shenac shook her head.

"It was not a wise thought. You little know how unfit I was then, how
unfit I am now."

"Say that you do not care for me, Shenac," said Mr Stewart gravely.

"No, I cannot say that; it would not be true. I mean, that has nothing
to do with my being fit."

Mr Stewart thought it had a great deal to do with it, b