smallest degree, perhaps because she knew so little of them. But no; it
would have been just the same had she known them a thousand years. She
was not "a man's woman," that is, one of those women who feel interested
in any thing in the shape of a man, and make men interested in them
accordingly, for the root of much masculine affection is pure vanity.
That celebrated Scottish song,

"Come deaf, or come blind, or come cripple,
O come, ony ane o' them a'!
Far better be married to something,
Than no to be married ava,"

was a rhyme that would never have touched the stony heart of Fortune
Williams. And yet, let me own it once more, she was very, very fond of
Robert Roy. He had never spoken to her one word of love, actual love, no
more than he spoke now, as they stood side by side, looking with the same
eyes on the same scene. I say the same eyes, for they were exceedingly
alike in their tastes. There was no need ever to go into long
explanations about this or that; a glance sufficed, or a word, to show
each what the other enjoyed; and both had the quiet conviction that they
were enjoying it together. Now as that sweet, still, sunshiny view met
their mutual gaze, they fell into no poetical raptures, but just stood
and looked, taking it all in with exceeding pleasure, as they had done
many and many a time, but never, it seemed, so perfectly as now.

"What a lovely afternoon!" she said at last.

"Yes. It is a pity to waste it. Have you any thing special to do? What
did you mean to employ yourself with, now your birds are flown?"

"Oh, I can always find something to do."

"But need you find it? We both work so hard. If we could only now and
then have a little bit of pleasure!"

He put it so simply, yet almost with a sigh. This poor girl's heart
responded to it suddenly, wildly. She was only twenty-five, yet
sometimes she felt quite old, or rather as if she had never been young.
The constant teaching, teaching of rough boys too--for she had had the
whole four till Mr. Roy took the two elder off her hands--the necessity
of grinding hard out of school hours to keep herself up in Latin, Euclid,
and other branches which do not usually form a part of a feminine
education, only having a great natural love of work, she had taught
herself--all these things combined to make her life a dull life, a hard
life, till Robert Roy came into it. And sometimes even now the desperate
craving to enjoy--not only to