en mere strength for what he did. Then first also, after he had
thus lost him, he began to understand his worth, and to see how much
he owed him. While he had imagined himself kind to the urchin, the
urchin had been laying him under endless obligation. For he left
him with ever so much more in his brains than when he came. This
book and that, through his aid, he had read thoroughly; and a score
or so of propositions had been added to his stock in Euclid. His
first feeling about the child revived as he pondered--namely, that
he was not of this world. But even then Donal did not know the best
Gibbie had done for him. He did not know of what far deeper and
better things he had, through his gentleness, his trust, his loving
service, his absolute unselfishness, sown the seeds in his mind. On
the other hand, Donal had in return done more for Gibbie than he
knew, though what he had done for him, namely, shared his dinners
with him, had been less of a gift than he thought, and Donal had
rather been sharing in Gibbie's dinner, than Gibbie in Donal's.

CHAPTER XXII.

REFUGE.

It was a lovely Saturday evening on Glashgar. The few flowers about
the small turf cottage scented the air in the hot western sun. The
heather was not in bloom yet, and there were no trees; but there
were rocks, and stones, and a brawling burn that half surrounded a
little field of oats, one of potatoes, and a small spot with a few
stocks of cabbage and kail, on the borders of which grew some bushes
of double daisies, and primroses, and carnations. These Janet
tended as part of her household, while her husband saw to the oats
and potatoes. Robert had charge of the few sheep on the mountain
which belonged to the farmer at the Mains, and for his trouble had
the cottage and the land, most of which he had himself reclaimed.
He had also a certain allowance of meal, which was paid in
portions, as corn went from the farm to the mill. If they happened
to fall short, the miller would always advance them as much as they
needed, repaying himself--and not very strictly--the next time the
corn was sent from the Mains. They were never in any want, and
never had any money, except what their children brought them out of
their small wages. But that was plenty for their every need, nor
had they the faintest feeling that they were persons to be pitied.
It was very cold up there in winter, to be sure, and they both
suffered from rheumatism; but they had