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'Me, answered Kirsty; and I'll do what I brag o'! she added, throwing her stocking on the patch of green sward about the stone, and starting to her feet with a laugh. 'Is't to be uphill or alang? They were near the foot of a hill to whose top went the heather, but along whose base, between the heather and the bogland below, lay an irregular belt of moss and grass, pretty clear of stones.
He was oot mebbe a quarter o' a beat in his time, but the auld words had their power; 'twas like as if I heard my mither's voice again, an' I cudna sing for greetin', but my hairt aye keepit time, an' I resolved then no' to let Kirsty sing the hymes ony mair but I'm misdootin' I've been wrang." Backward rolled the night and onward rolled the day as we kept our vigil by the dying bed.
The old man's face dropped to the curly head lying on his breast, but he only said, "The child must get to rest, and Mam Kirsty. Ring that bell, Yaspard, and then go and tell your aunt. Sit down, Mr. Garson, sit down, till I've had time to think." Fred did as he was bid, and so of course did Yaspard; and a pretty scene he created in Miss Osla's room when he burst in there and told her all!
David Barclay got up the moment Kirsty was out of the room, dressed himself in haste, swallowed a glass of whisky, saddled the gray mare, gave her a feed of oats, which she ate the faster that she felt the saddle, and set out for Tiltowie to get the doctor.
Kirsty welcomed me as usual, for she was always loving and kind to us; and although I did not visit her so often now, she knew it was because I was more with my father, and had lessons to learn in which she could not assist me. Having nothing else to talk about, I told her of Eppie, and her altered looks when she came out of the house.
Instinctively the mother began to hush and soothe her, and in a moment more was singing a lullaby to her. Phemy fell fast asleep. Then Kirsty told what she had done, and while she spoke, the mother sat silent brooding, and hushing, and thinking. When she had told all, Kirsty rose, and laying aside the stocking, said, 'I maun awa to Weelset, mother.
Into this nest Kirsty went, and in it remained quiet until it began to grow dark. She had hoped to find her brother waiting for her, but, although disappointed, chose to continue there until Francis Gordon should be well on his way to the castle, and then she crept out, and ran to recover her stocking. When she got home, she found Steenie engrossed in a young horse their father had just bought.
"Father, you will soon be as bad as Aunt Kirsty. I do believe she is bitterly disappointed that I didn't remain an invalid for a year, so that she might coddle me. I wouldn't miss this picnic for all Algonquin. It will be my first festivity since I was sick, and I want you to be in it." The old man looked up into his son's face, his eyes shining.
It would not have bettered matters in the least had he disclosed to her the good advice Kirsty gave him: she would only have been furious at the impudence of the hussey in talking so to her son. The region was like a waste place in the troubled land of dreams a spot so waste that the dreamer struggles to rouse himself from his dream, finding it too dreary to dream on.
Kirsty ceased to look upon him with the pity hitherto colouring all her devotion; pride had taken its place, which she buttressed with a massive hope, for Kirsty was a splendid hoper. People in the town, where now he was oftener seen, would remark on the wonderful change in him. 'What's come to fule Steenie? said one of a group he had just passed.
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