So just take them to yourself, and
bide still a while, till you see."

"I'll have to go on with the school yet," said Lilias, quietly.

"No, no, my lass: you'll do no such thing as that, unless you're tired
of your life. You have been at that work over-long already, or I'm
mistaken. Go into the house and look in the glass. Your face will
never be paler than it is at this moment, Lilias Elder, my dear."

"I'm tired," said Lilias, faintly, her courage quite forsaking her, and
the tears, long kept back, finding their way down her cheeks.

"Tired! I'll warrant you're tired; and me, like an old fool, talking
away here, when the tea should have been ready long since." And Nancy
dashed into her preparations with great energy. The tea was made in the
little black teapot, as usual; but it was the best tray, and Nancy's
exquisite china, that were laid on the mahogany stand brought from the
parlour for the occasion; for Nancy seemed determined to do her great
honour. By a strong effort, Lilias checked her tears after the first
gush, and sat watching the movements and listening to the rather
unconnected remarks of her hostess.

"It's not often they're taken down, except to wash," she said, as with a
snowy napkin she dusted the fairy-like cream-pot. "There's but few folk
of consideration coming to see the like of me. Young Mr Crawford
doesn't seem to think that I belong to him,--maybe because I go so often
to Dunmoor kirk. He hasn't darkened my door but once yet, and he's not
like to do it now. They say he's to be married to one of Fivie's
daughters; and I mind Fivie a poor herd-laddie. Eh me! but the Lord
brings down one and puts up another! To think of the Lady of Pentlands
having to leave yon bonny place! Who would have thought it? This is
truly a changeful scene. Folk must have their share of trouble at one
time or other of their lives. There was never a truer word said than
that."

"Yes," said Lilias, softly: "it is called a pilgrimage,--a race,--a
warfare."

Nancy caught the words.

"Ay, that's a good child, applying the Scripture, as you ought to do.
But you can do that at your leisure, you know. Sit by the table and
take your tea. I dare say you need it."

And indeed Lilias, faint and weary, did need it. She thought she could
not swallow a crumb; but she was mistaken. The tea was delicious; for
Mrs Stirling was a judge of tea, and would tolerate no inferior
beverage.

"I'm willing to pay fo