‘I s’ no forget yer father,’ said Kirsty.
She sent out a strange, piercing cry, set Phemy down, took her hand in hers, and went on, Phemy making no resistance. In about three minutes there was a noise in the heather, and Snootie came rushing to Kirsty. A few moments more and Steenie appeared. He lifted his bonnet to Phemy, and stood waiting his sister’s commands.
‘Steenie,’ she said, ‘tak the dog wi’ ye, and rin doon to the toon, and tell Mr. Craig ’at Phemy here’s comin hame wi’ me, to bide the nicht. Ye winna be langer nor ye canna help, and ye’ll come to the hoose afore ye gang to the hill?’
‘I’ll du that, Kirsty. Come, doggie,’
Steenie never went to the town of his own accord, and Kirsty never liked him to go, for the boys were rude, but to-night it would be dark before he reached it.
‘Ye’re no surely gaun to gar me bide a’ nicht!’ said Phemy, beginning again to cry.
‘I am that—the nicht, and maybe the morn’s nicht, and ony nummer o’ nichts till we’re sure he’s awa!’ answered Kirsty, resuming her walk.
Phemy wept aloud, but did not try to escape.
‘And him gaein to promise this verra nicht ’at he would merry me!’ she cried, but through her tears and sobs her words were indistinct.
Kirsty stopped, and faced round on her.