to think she had been
mistaken, but that could not be, for Duncan presently said to her--

"She won't ever come back, Elsie, will she? But she was a bonnie lady,
wasn't she?"

"She was bonnie, and real kind," Elsie said. "I wonder whether she will
come back after all."

"She might have put us inside the carriage if she'd liked," Duncan said,
doubtfully.

"Perhaps the gentleman wouldn't have let her," Elsie replied. "I think
she meant she would come alone."

"Will she be very long?" Duncan said, pitifully; "and will she take us
to London, to him--our father, Elsie?--or will you ask her to take us
back to Dunster?"

"We must wait till she comes," Elsie said, evasively. In her heart of
hearts she would not have been sorry to find herself back in Mrs.
MacDougall's cottage, but the humiliation of returning and acknowledging
why she had run away, and how she had failed, was too much for her
proud, stubborn will.

"Do you like running away?" Duncan asked, looking up anxiously in her
face.

"I don't mind it," Elsie answered. She was getting into a contrary mood,
partly because Duncan's remarks touched her so keenly, partly out of
anger and impatience at the misfortunes that had befallen them.

They had been walking along slowly in the direction the carriage had
taken. Duncan did not seem inclined to go faster. Presently he stopped,
and stood watching a number of black-faced Highland sheep scampering
down the side of a hill. There were sounds of barking, and at last there
appeared a shepherd and collie.

"He will know the way," Elsie cried, with delight. "Come on, Duncan;
let's run and ask him."

"You run, Elsie. I'll wait till you come back," Duncan said, wearily. It
was very unusual for him to hang behind, but Elsie was too eager to
notice it. She left him sitting by the roadside, and flew after the
shepherd.

"The way to Killochrie? Weel, you just keep to the road right away till
it runs into another one, an' that'll take you straight through; but
it's a long, long way to walk."

The man was engaged in eating a large piece of bread and cheese. Elsie,
who was very hungry, eyed it longingly.

"Ye look a wee bit starved," the man said.

"We'll be getting some food at Killochrie," Elsie said, evasively.

"I did hear last night that there was two children lost off Dunster
Moor--stolen, they do say. I suppose you bain't one of them?" the man
continued, eyeing her curiously "Was dressed in plaid frock and clot