my mind, Duncan, that I'll go to England
an' find him."

"You couldn't do it," Duncan said.

"Couldn't I?" Elsie said scornfully, "It isn't so very far. England's
another country, but it joins on. You only step out o' one into the
other, for I looked most particular; an' there wasn't even mountains to
get over. There's only what folk call the border, an' I'm sure that
isn't much. P'raps it's a line, or a road, or a ditch, or something like
it. You go straight out of Scotland--as straight as ever you can go.
I've looked on the map. Give it me now. If you go from Dunster you've
only to keep in a straight line till you get into England, an' any
one'll tell you the way to London."

"I'm sure it's a dreadful long way," Duncan said disconsolately. "I
should be frightened while you was gone, till you came back."

"Come back," said Elsie. "I shan't never do that, I hope. When I find my
father he'll take care o' me. Now then, will you come with me, Duncan?"

"I don't think I'd go, Elsie. We might get lost," Duncan urged. "I wish
you could write a letter instead."

"I've made up my mind to go if I do anything at all," Elsie said, in a
tone of decision. "You needn't come unless you like."

Duncan looked perplexed again. This was indeed an awkward predicament.
The thought of running away to England didn't seem nice, somehow, but if
Elsie went and he stayed, how frightened he'd be all the time about her;
and when they questioned him, how would he be able to keep her secret,
especially if Robbie's mother had that troubled look in her eyes? and
how lonely it would be going backwards and forwards across the moor all
alone without Elsie.

"I wish you wouldn't go, Elsie," he said to her presently.

"Most likely I shall," Elsie replied. "Mind you tell no tales. We must
be quick home now. Come along; I shall have to think of ever so many
things before we go, so you'll have plenty o' time to know whether
you'll come or stay behind. Oh, I know I shall be a real lady, Duncan,
an' have bonny clothes. Of course I shouldn't like fetching milk an'
things when I'm a little lady born. Isn't it a shame, Duncan?"

"I dunno; _I_ don't mind," Duncan then said.

"Give me the atlas," Elsie said; "I must get away an' have a goodish
look at it when we get in, for you must be quite sure and take it back
this afternoon."

But Elsie was not to "get away," for Mrs. MacDougall was waiting at the
gate with a basket by her side.

"You've been loit