pared the bed in the little closet for
his guest and she slept as if she had not slept for a week.

Gibbie woke with the first of the dawn. The rain still
fell--descending in spoonfuls rather than drops; the wind kept
shaping itself into long hopeless howls, rising to shrill yells that
went drifting away over the land; and then the howling rose again.
Nature seemed in despair. There must be more for Gibbie to do! He
must go again to the foot of the mountain, and see if there was
anybody to help. They might even be in trouble at the Mains, who
could tell!

Ginevra woke, rose, made herself as tidy as she could, and left her
closet. Gibbie was not in the cottage. She blew up the fire, and,
finding the pot ready beside it, with clean water, set it on to
boil. Gibbie did not come. The water boiled. She took it off, but
being hungry, put it on again. Several times she took it off and
put it on again. Gibbie never came. She made herself some porridge
at last. Everything necessary was upon the table, and as she poured
it into the wooden dish for the purpose, she took notice of a slate
beside it, with something written upon it. The words were, "I will
cum back as soon as I cann."

She was alone, then! It was dreadful; but she was too hungry to
think about it. She ate her porridge, and then began to cry. It
was very unkind of Gibbie to leave her, she said to herself, But
then he was a sort of angel, and doubtless had to go and help
somebody else. There was a little pile of books on the table, which
he must have left for her. She began examining them, and soon found
something to interest her, so that an hour or two passed quickly.
But Gibbie did not return, and the day went wearily. She cried now
and then, made great efforts to be patient, succeeded pretty well
for a while, and cried again. She read and grew tired a dozen
times; ate cakes and milk, cried afresh, and ate again. Still
Gibbie did not come. Before the day was over, she had had a good
lesson in praying. For here she was, one who had never yet acted on
her own responsibility, alone on a bare mountain-side, in the heart
of a storm which seemed as if it would never cease, and not a
creature knew where she was but the dumb boy, and he had left her!
If he should never come back, what would become of her? She could
not find her way down the mountain; and if she could, where was she
to go, with all Daurside under water? She would soon have eaten