d provided, and in the mean time she
made up her fire, and prepared some breakfast for them.

"An' whaur's yer dummie?" she asked, as they re-entered the kitchen.

"He had puir Crummie to luik efter," answered Janet; "but he micht
hae been in or this time."

"He'll be wi' Donal i' the byre, nae doobt," said Jean: "he's aye
some shy o' comin' in wantin' an inveet." She went to the door, and
called with a loud voice across the yard, through the wind and the
clashing torrents, "Donal, sen' Dummie in till's brakfast."

"He's awa' till's sheep," cried Donal in reply.

"Preserve 's!--the cratur 'll be lost!" said Jean.

"Less likly nor ony man aboot the place," bawled Donal, half angry
with his mistress for calling his friend dummie. "Gibbie kens better
what he's aboot nor ony twa 'at thinks him a fule 'cause he canna
lat oot sic stuff an' nonsense as they canna haud in."

Jean went back to the kitchen, only half reassured concerning her
brownie, and far from contented with his absence. But she was glad
to find that neither Janet nor Robert appeared alarmed at the news.

"I wuss the cratur had had some brakfast," she said.

"He has a piece in 's pooch," answered Janet. "He's no oonprovidit
wi' what can be made mair o'."

"I dinna richtly un'erstan' ye there," said Jean.

"Ye canna hae failt to remark, mem," answered Janet, "'at whan the
Maister set himsel' to feed the hungerin' thoosan's, he teuk intil's
han' what there was, an' vroucht upo' that to mak mair o' 't. I hae
wussed sometimes 'at the laddie wi' the five barley loaves an' the
twa sma' fishes, hadna been there that day. I wad fain ken hoo the
Maister wad hae managed wantin' onything to begin upo'. As it was,
he aye hang what he did upo' something his Father had dune afore
him."

"Hoots!" returned Jean, who looked upon Janet as a lover of
conundrums, "ye're aye warstlin' wi' run k-nots an' teuch moo'fu's."

"Ow na, no aye," answered Janet; "--only whiles, whan the speerit o'
speirin' gets the upper han' o' me for a sizon."

"I doobt that same speerit 'll lead ye far frae the still watters
some day, Janet," said Jean, stirring the porridge vehemently.

"Ow, I think not," answered Janet very calmly. "Whan the Maister
says--what's that to thee?--I tak care he hasna to say't twise, but
jist get up an' follow him."

This was beyond Jean, but she held her peace, for, though she feared
for Janet's orthodoxy, and had a strong opinion of the sup