nger than Norman.

"What is the matter?" asked the old man, eyeing the two children whose
voices he had heard.

"My young brother ran away from me, and I tumbled down and wet my
frock," answered Fanny.

"Come in, then, and dry yourself," said the old man.

"But I have wet my stockings and shoes," said Fanny, "and they will take
a long time to dry."

"I shall be happy to have your company, my pretty lassie, as long as you
like to stay," said the old man. "I ken ye are staying with Glen
Tulloch and ony of his friends are welcome here."

"We are staying with Mr Maclean," answered Fanny, "and were making an
excursion over the moor, when we saw your cottage, and thought we should
like to visit you."

"We call Mr Maclean Glen Tulloch about here, as that's the name of his
house," answered the old man. "Come in! come in! We will soon get your
wet shoes and stockings off, though I am afraid you must sit without any
while they are drying, for Robby there has never had a pair to his feet,
and my old slippers are too large for you, I have a notion."

Fanny observed that though the old man used a few Scotch expressions, he
spoke English perfectly. His dress, too, was more like that of a sailor
than the costume worn by the surrounding peasantry.

Norman, who had also come into the house, stood while they were
speaking, eyeing the little boy, without saying anything. At last,
looking up at the old man, he asked, "Is that your son?"

"No, young gentleman, he is my grandson," was the answer, "he is the
only one alive of all my family, and I am to him as father and mother,
and nurse and playmate. Am I not, Robby?"

"Yes, grandfather," answered the child, looking up affectionately at the
old man, "I do not want any one to play with but you."

"Would you not like a ride in our little carriage?" asked Fanny. "As
soon as my shoes and stockings are dry I shall be happy to draw you."

Robby nodded his head, and came near to Fanny.

"Would you not like to go out and play with the young gentleman?" asked
the old man.

"I do not want him," said Norman haughtily; "I am not accustomed to play
with little brats of that sort."

"Oh, Norman, how can you say that?" exclaimed Fanny, very much annoyed.

"Is he your brother, young lady?" asked the old man, looking with a
pitying eye on Norman, but not at all angry.

"Yes," said Fanny.

"I should not have thought it. There is a wide difference between you,
I see."

Fanny d