"And where did my father meet with her? He was not Scottish?"
"He was not, Madam. And I will tell you all the story if it please you; but will you not dress now?"
"You can tell me while I comb my hair, Patient. I want to know all about it."
"May I do it for you, Madam? I can speak now, if that be your pleasure; but 'tis almost necessary that I tell mine own story in hers."
"Will it pain you, Patient?" asked Celia, kindly.
"No, Madam; I am far past that," answered Patient, in her calm, passionless voice.
"Then please to let me hear it."
"My father's name, please you," Patient began, "was Alexander Leslie, and he dwelt on Lauchie Farm, near to the Manse. And sith Mr. Grey, our Minister, wedded Mrs. Jean Leslie, of the same clan, it fell out that Miss Magdalene and I were somewhat akin, though in worldly goods she was much beyond us. For Mr. Grey was not one of our poor ministers of Scotland, but a rich Englishman, who made his way into what the English deemed our wild valleys, for no cause but only the love of Christ. Miss Magdalene being an only bairn, without brother or sister, it so fell that I and Roswith were called up whiles to the Manse to divert her."
"You and who?"
"Roswith, my sister."