flushing with
life, but as yet tongue-holden. Yet she said certain things, and they
were to him all music and wit. The third time had been by the
wishing-green. That was but for a moment, but he counted it great
gain.
"Here," she said, "was where we danced! Mr. Ian Rullock and you and
Robin and the rest of us. Don't you remember? It was evening and there
was a fleet of gold clouds in the sky. It is so near the house. I walk
here when I have a glint of time."
The fourth time, riding Black Alan, he had stopped at the door and
talked with Jarvis Barrow. He was thirsty and had asked for water, and
Jenny had called, "Elspeth, bring the laird a cup frae the well!" She
had brought it, and, taking it from her, all the romance of the world
had seemed to him to close them round, to bear them to some great and
fair and deep and passionate place. The fifth time had been the day
when he went to kirk with White Farm and listened to her voice in the
psalm. The sixth time had been again upon the moor. The seventh time
was this. He had come down through the glen as he had done before. He
had no reason to suppose that this day more than another he would find
her, but there, half a mile from White Farm, he came upon her,
standing, watching a lintwhite's nest. They walked together, and when
that little, right-angled, infant fellow of the glen opened to them
they turned and followed its bright rivulet to the green hidden
hollow.
The earth lay warm and dry, clad with short turf. They sat down
beneath an oak-tree. None would come this way; they had to themselves
a bright span of time and place. Elspeth looked at him with brown,
friendly eyes. Each time she met him her eyes grew more kind; more and
more she liked the laird. Something fluttered in her nature; like a
bird in a room with many windows and all but one closed, it turned now
this way, now that, seeking the open lattice. There was the lovely
world--which way to it? And the window that in a dream had seemed to
her to open was mayhap closed, and another that she had not noted
mayhap opening.... But Glenfernie, winged, was in that world, and now
all that he desired was that the bright bird should fly to him there.
But until to-day patience and caution and much humility had kept him
from direct speech. He knew that she had not loved, as he had done, at
once. He had set himself to win her to love him. But so great was his
passion that now he thought:
"Surely not one, but two as
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