n, then--you can," she added, with a shrug of the shoulder which did
not express a very warm welcome.

However, there was nothing else to be done, so the children, Elsie
leading Duncan by the hand, made their way up to the cottage door, while
the woman went off with her husband to some unknown region, either to
assist him with the horse, or, what was much more likely, to talk to him
about the strange load he had brought home with him.

Elsie thought she had never seen anything so horrible as the sight that
greeted her when she pushed the door wide open, and stood on the
threshold of the crofter's home.

[Illustration]

The tiny place was dirty in the extreme. The floor, which had been of
boards, had rotted away in several places, showing the bare ground
beneath. A broken rickety table and a few dilapidated chairs and stools
were the only furniture, with the exception of an old clock standing
against one of the walls. A shelf in one corner displayed a few odd
pieces of coarse crockery, for the most part chipped and cracked, and
some pieces of bread.

Elsie perceiving a door, ventured to lift the latch and look in. It
opened into a still smaller apartment, the principal part of which was
occupied by something on the floor intended for a bed, where two
children lay sleeping. The ceiling was very low, and had an open space
at one end, with a ladder, which appeared to lead into a kind of loft,
where onions seemed to be stored, by the odour coming from it. As far as
she could discover, these comprised the whole accommodation of the
crofter's cottage.

While Elsie was wondering where they would have to sleep, the man and
woman came in. Elsie had stripped off her soaking jacket, and was
standing near the smoky peat fire, endeavouring to dry her wet skirts
and feet. Poor Duncan had no outer coat to protect him, and was
consequently wet to the very skin. He was standing in his shirt-sleeves,
shivering, by Elsie's side.

"What is your name?" the woman asked of Elsie, in the slow measured
accents of one who speaks a language not perfectly familiar.

"Our name is Grosvenor," Elsie said, with a warning glance at Duncan,
which, however, the woman's quick eyes noted.

"What for you are going to Killochrie by yourselves?"

"Our mother is dead, and we are going to find our father," Elsie
replied. "We were living with some one who was unkind to us."

"Oh, Elsie!" Duncan whispered, under his breath; but Elsie checked him
pere