motionless, flat on the ground, her face turned
sideways upon her hands, and her eyes fixed on the heavenly vision.
Then a curious feeling began to wake in her of having seen him
before--somewhere, ever so long ago--and that sight of him as well
as this had to do with misery--with something that made a stain that
would not come out. Yes--it was the very face, only larger, and
still sweeter, of the little naked child whom Angus had so cruelly
lashed! That was ages ago, but she had not forgotten, and never
could forget either the child's back, or the lovely innocent white
face that he turned round upon her. If it was indeed he, perhaps he
would remember her. In any case, she was now certain he would not
hurt her.

While she looked at him thus, Gibbie's face grew grave: seldom was
his grave when fronting the face of a fellow-creature, but now he
too was remembering, and trying to recollect; as through a dream of
sickness and pain he saw a face like the one before him, yet not the
same.

Ginevra recollected first, and a sweet slow diffident smile crept
like a dawn up from the depth of her under-world to the sky of her
face, but settled in her eyes, and made two stars of them. Then
rose the very sun himself in Gibbie's, and flashed a full response
of daylight--a smile that no woman, girl, or matron, could mistrust.

From brow to chin his face was radiant. The sun of this world had
made his nest in his hair, but the smile below it seemed to dim the
aureole he wore. Timidly yet trustingly Ginevra took one hand from
under her cheek, and stretched it up to him. He clasped it gently.
She moved, and he helped her to rise.

"I've lost Nicie," she said.

Gibbie nodded, but did not look concerned,

"Nicie is my maid," said Ginevra.

Gibbie nodded several times. He knew who Nicie was rather better
than her mistress.

"I left her away back there, a long, long time ago, and she has
never come to me," she said.

Gibbie gave a shrill loud whistle that startled her. In a few
seconds, from somewhere unseen, a dog came bounding to him over
stones and heather. How he spoke to the dog, or what he told him to
do, she had not an idea; but the next instant Oscar was rushing
along the path she had come, and was presently out of sight. So
full of life was Gibbie, so quick and decided was his every motion,
so full of expression his every glance and smile, that she had not
yet begun to wonder he had not spoken; indeed she wa