s face beaming over him, with a look in its eyes more like
worship then benevolence. Her husband was gone, and she was about
to milk the cow, and was anxious lest, while she was away, he should
disappear as before. But the light that rushed into his eyes was in
full response to that which kindled the light in hers, and her
misgiving vanished; he could not love her like that and leave her.
She gave him his breakfast of porridge and milk, and went to her
cow.

When she came back, she found everything tidy in the cottage, the
floor swept, every dish washed and set aside; and Gibbie was
examining an old shoe of Robert's, to see whether he could not mend
it. Janet, having therefore leisure, proceeded at once with joy to
the construction of a garment she had been devising for him. The
design was simple, and its execution easy. Taking a blue winsey
petticoat of her own, drawing it in round his waist, and tying it
over the chemise which was his only garment, she found, as she had
expected, that its hem reached his feet: she partly divided it up
the middle, before and behind, and had but to backstitch two short
seams, and there was a pair of sailor-like trousers, as tidy as
comfortable! Gibbie was delighted with them. True, they had no
pockets, but then he had nothing to put in pockets, and one might
come to think of that as an advantage. Gibbie indeed had never had
pockets, for the pockets of the garments he had had were always worn
out before they reached him. Then Janet thought about a cap; but
considering him a moment critically, and seeing how his hair stood
out like thatch-eaves round his head, she concluded with herself
"There maun be some men as weel's women fowk, I'm thinkin', whause
hair's gien them for a coverin'," and betook herself instead to her
New Testament.

Gibbie stood by as she read in silence, gazing with delight, for he
thought it must be a book of ballads like Donal's that she was
reading. But Janet found his presence, his unresting attitude, and
his gaze, discomposing. To worship freely, one must be alone, or
else with fellow-worshippers. And reading and worshipping were
often so mingled with Janet, as to form but one mental consciousness.
She looked up therefore from her book, and said--

"Can ye read, laddie?"

Gibbie shook his head.

"Sit ye doon than, an' I s' read till ye."

Gibbie obeyed more than willingly, expecting to hear some ancient
Scots tale of love or chivalry. Instea