They walked a long while in silence. It was Kit who spoke first.
"Vara," he said, "will ye whiles think on me?"
"Of course I will that," said Vara readily; "ye hae been verra kind to me here."
"I'm but a laddie, I ken," said Kit, "but ye micht no a'thegither forget me. I'll never forget you, lassie!"
There fell another silence between them.
"Ye'll be gaun back to be near him?" said Kit, a little sullenly.
"Aye," replied Vara, in a voice that was almost a whisper, "maybe! Ye see, we hae kenned yin anither a' oor lives. And he kens hoo I was brocht up—and a' aboot my folk! And I ken his."
"I'm jalloosin' ye'll be desperate fond o' him?" said Kit, in the same hang-dog way, as if he were taking pleasure in his own pain.
"He fed the bairns wi' milk and bread," replied Vara softly; "aye, and gied us a' that he had when we were starvin'! He gied up the very roof abune his heid to shelter us when we were turned oot on the street. I canna help bein' fond o' him, Kit. 'Deed I canna."