Robert stood leaning against the wall. He stretched out his hands eagerly.
'Gie me her. Gie me her.'
'You had better let me carry it. You are not able.'
'Na, na, mem. Ye dinna ken hoo easy she is to hurt.'
'Oh, yes, I do!' returned Miss St. John, smiling, and Robert could not withstand the smile.
'Weel, tak care o' her, as ye wad o' yer ain sel', mem,' he said, yielding.
He was now much better, and before he had been two minutes in the open air, insisted that he was quite well. When they reached Captain Forsyth's garden he again held out his hands for his violin.
'No, no,' said his new friend. 'You wouldn't have Betty see you like that, would you?'
'No, mem; but I'll put in the fiddle at my ain window, and she sanna hae a chance o' seein' 't,' answered Robert, not understanding her; for though he felt a good deal of pain, he had no idea what a dreadful appearance he presented.
'Don't you know that you have a wound on your head?' asked Miss St. John.