She didn’t resist.
“I say, Fanny—”
“Yes, Sandie.”
“It’ll be a bonnie night to-night, the moon as bright as day. Will you steal out at eight o’clock and take a wee bit walk with me? Just meet me on the hill near Tammie Gibb’s ruined cottage. I’ve something to tell you.”
“I’ll—I’ll try,” said Fanny, blushing a little, as all innocent Scotch girls do.
Sandie went off now to his work as happy as the angels.
And Fanny did steal out that night. Only for one short hour and a half. Oh, how short the time did seem to Sandie!
It is not difficult to guess what Sandie had to tell her.
The old, old story, which, told in a thousand different ways, is ever the same, ever, ever new.
And he told her of his prospects, of the house—a but and a ben, or two rooms—he was soon to build, and his intended kennels, though he would still work for the Laird.