'Why did not you come and visit me then Cecil?'
''Deed lady, I was at your lodging one day; and they told me you were away, and where you were gone to; and I went two or three times and sat with the childer' upon the step of the door to see if you would, may be, come out; but I never had luck to see you.'
'Why did you not enquire for me?'
'I'se warrant, lady,' said Cecil, with a smile of proud humility, 'they might have thought a wonder to see the like of me enquiring for you. But much thought have I had about you. They say "cold is the breath of strangers[5];" but troth, if you like to believe me, my heart warmed to you whenever I saw you first.'
'Truly, Cecil, I like very much to believe you; for there are not many hearts that warm to me.'
'I'se tell you, lady, the last time I saw you, ye were no like yoursel'; ye were a white's canna[6]; and I just thought that, may be, an ill ee, with your leave, had taken you.'
'Does an evil eye injure the complexion of any body except the owner, think you, Cecil?' said I.
'An eye will split a stone[7], as they'll say in Glen Eredine,' said Cecil, shaking her head very gravely. 'But I have something, if you would please to accept; she hit mysel' just on the coat, with your leave, one night going through under the face of Benarde.' While she spoke she was searching about her bed, and at length produced a small stone shaped somewhat like a gun flint.[8] 'Now,' proceeded she, 'ye'll just sew that within the lining of your stays, lady; or, with your leave, in the band of your petticoat; and there'll nobody can harm you.'
'Thank you, Cecil. But if I rob you of this treasure, who knows how far your own good fortune may suffer?'