“No, I didna.”
“Ye never saw sic han’s! Did ye tak notice o’ her feet?”
“No, I didna.”
“Ye never saw sic feet! Yon’s ane ’at canna gather, nor stock, nor bin’, but she’s bonny a’ throu’, an’ her v’ice is a sang, an’ she’ll gang throu’ fire an’ watter ohn blinkit for her love’s sake. Yon’s the lass for oor laird! The like o’ you an’ me sudna trible heid nor hert aboot the likes o’ him .”
“Speyk for yersel’, lass,” said Elsie.
“I tellt ye,” returned Aggie, quietly but with something like scorn, “’at gien ye wad be true to me, I wad be true to you; but gie yersel’ airs, an’ I say guid nicht, an’ gang efter my fowk.”
She turned and departed, leaving Elsie more annoyed than repentant: it may take a whole life to render a person capable of shame, not to say sorrow, for the meanest thing of many he has done.
And now, Aggie’s heart lying stone-like within her as she followed Cosmo with his treasure, her brain was alive and active for his sake. Joan was herself again, Cosmo had set her down, and they were walking side by side. “What are they going to do?” thought Aggie. “Are they going straight home together? Why does she come now the old laird is gone?” Such and many other questions she kept asking herself in her carefulness over Cosmo.
They passed the turning Aggie would have taken to go home; she passed it too, following them steadily.—That old Grizzie was no good! She must go home with them herself! If the reason for which she left the castle was a wise one, she must now, for the same reason, go back to it! Those two must not be there with nobody to make them feel comfortable and taken care of! They must not be left to feel awkward together! She must be a human atmosphere about them, to shield them, and make home for them! Love itself may be too lonely. It needs some reflection of its too lavish radiation. —This was practically though not altogether in form what Agnes thought.
In the meantime, the first whelming joy-wave having retired, and life and thought resumed their operations, they had begun to talk.