n again.

Change had passed upon both since they parted. He was a full-grown man
with a settled look. She was a lovely woman, even more delicate and
graceful than her childhood had promised.

As she got down from the fence, he got down from his horse. Without a
word on either side, their hands joined, and still they stood silent
for a minute, Annie with her eyes on the ground, Alec gazing in her
face, which was pale with more than its usual paleness.

"I saw Curly yesterday," said Alec at length, with what seemed to Annie
a meaning look.

Her face flushed as red as fire.--Could Curly have betrayed her?

She managed to stammer out,

"Oh! Did you?

And then silence fell again.

"Eh! Alec," she said at length, taking up the conversation, in her
turn, "we thought we would never see ye again."

"I thought so too," answered Alec, "when the great berg came down on us
through the snow-storm, and flung the barque upon the floe with her
side crushed in.--How I used to dream about the old school-days, Annie,
and finding you in my hut!--And I did find you in the snow, Annie."

But a figure came round the other corner--for the road made a double
sweep at this point--and cried--

"Annie, come hame direcly. Ye're wantit."

"I'm coming to see you again soon, Annie," said Alec. "But I must go
away for a mouth or two first."

Annie replied with a smile and an outstretched hand--nothing more. She
could wait well enough.

How lovely the flowers in the dyke-sides looked as she followed Mrs
Gordon home! But the thought that perhaps Curly had told him something
was like the serpent under them. Yet somehow she had got so beautiful
before she reached the house, that her aunt, who had come to see her,
called out,

"Losh! lassie! What hae ye been aboot? Ye hae a colour by ordinar'."

"That's easy accoontet for," said her mistress roguishly. "She was
stan'in' killoguin wi' a bonnie young lad an' a horse. I winna hae sic
doin's aboot my hoose, I can tell ye, lass."

Margaret Anderson flew into a passion, and abused her with many words,
which Annie, so far from resenting, scarcely even heard. At length she
ceased, and departed almost without an adieu. But what did it
matter?--What did any earthly thing matter, if only Curly had not told
him?

Now, all that Curly had told Alec was that Annie was not engaged to
him.

So the days and nights passed, and Spring, the girl, changed into
Summer, the woman; and still Alec did not co