thy things in a jiffy, then, and let's be off,' said Daniel.

And Sylvia did not need another word. Down she came in a twinkling,
dressed in her new red cloak and hood, her face peeping out of the
folds of the latter, bright and blushing.

'Thou should'st na' ha' put on thy new cloak for a night walk to
Moss Brow,' said Bell, shaking her head.

'Shall I go take it off, and put on my shawl?' asked Sylvia, a
little dolefully.

'Na, na, come along! a'm noane goin' for t' wait o' women's chops
and changes. Come along; come, Lassie!' (this last to his dog).

So Sylvia set off with a dancing heart and a dancing step, that had
to be restrained to the sober gait her father chose. The sky above
was bright and clear with the light of a thousand stars, the grass
was crisping under their feet with the coming hoar frost; and as
they mounted to the higher ground they could see the dark sea
stretching away far below them. The night was very still, though now
and then crisp sounds in the distant air sounded very near in the
silence. Sylvia carried the basket, and looked like little Red
Riding Hood. Her father had nothing to say, and did not care to make
himself agreeable; but Sylvia enjoyed her own thoughts, and any
conversation would have been a disturbance to her. The long
monotonous roll of the distant waves, as the tide bore them in, the
multitudinous rush at last, and then the retreating rattle and
trickle, as the baffled waters fell back over the shingle that
skirted the sands, and divided them from the cliffs; her father's
measured tread, and slow, even movement; Lassie's pattering--all
lulled Sylvia into a reverie, of which she could not have given
herself any definite account. But at length they arrived at Moss
Brow, and with a sudden sigh she quitted the subjects of her dreamy
meditations, and followed her father into the great house-place. It
had a more comfortable aspect by night than by day. The fire was
always kept up to a wasteful size, and the dancing blaze and the
partial light of candles left much in shadow that was best ignored
in such a disorderly family. But there was always a warm welcome to
friends, however roughly given; and after the words of this were
spoken, the next rose up equally naturally in the mind of Mrs
Corney.

'And what will ye tak'? Eh! but t' measter 'll be fine and vexed at
your comin' when he's away. He's off to Horncastle t' sell some
colts, and he'll not be back till to-morrow's neet.