y have plenty of children.

Never before had Ginny spent such a happy day, drunk such milk as
Crummie's, or eaten such cakes as Janet's. She saw no more of
Gibbie: the moment she was safe, he and Oscar were off again to the
sheep, for Robert was busy cutting peats that day, and Gibbie was in
sole charge. Eager to know about him, Ginevra gathered all that
Janet could tell of his story, and in return told the little she had
seen of it, which was the one dreadful point.

"Is he a good boy, Mistress Grant?" she asked.

"The best boy ever I kenned--better nor my ain Donal, an' he was the
best afore him," answered Janet.

Ginny gave a little sigh, and wished she were good.

"Whan saw ye Donal?" asked Janet of Nicie.

"No this lang time--no sin' I was here last," answered Nicie, who
did not now get home so often as the rest.

"I was thinkin'," returned her mother, "ye sud 'maist see him noo
frae the back o' the muckle hoose; for he was tellin' me he was wi'
the nowt' i' the new meadow upo' the Lorrie bank, 'at missie's papa
boucht frae Jeames Glass."

"Ow, is he there?" said Nicie. "I'll maybe get sicht, gien I dinna
get word o' him. He cam ance to the kitchen-door to see me, but
Mistress Mac Farlane wadna lat him in. She wad hae nae loons comin'
aboot the place she said. I said 'at hoo he was my brither. She
said, says she, that was naething to her, an' she wad hae no
brithers. My sister micht come whiles, she said, gien she camna
ower aften; but lasses had naething to dee wi' brithers. Wha was to
tell wha was or wha wasna my brither? I tellt her 'at a' my
brithers was weel kenned for douce laads; an' she tellt me to haud
my tongue, an' no speyk up; an' I cud hae jist gien her a guid cloot
o' the lug--I was that angert wi' her."

"She'll be soary for't some day," said Janet, with a quiet smile;
"an' what a body's sure to be soary for, ye may as weel forgie them
at ance."

"Hoo ken ye, mither, she'll be soary for't?" asked Nicie, not very
willing to forgive Mistress Mac Farlane.

"'Cause the Maister says 'at we'll hae to pey the uttermost fardin'.
There's naebody 'ill be latten aff. We maun dee oor neiper richt."

"But michtna the Maister himsel' forgie her?" suggested Nicie, a
little puzzled.

"Lassie," said her mother solemnly, "ye dinna surely think 'at the
Lord's forgifness is to lat fowk aff ohn repentit? That wad be a
strange fawvour to grant them! He winna hurt mair nor he can help;