. If Janet had been like the rest of them, he would
have died upon Glashgar, or be now wandering about the country,
doing odd jobs for half-pence! He must not do like other
people--would not, could not, dared not be like them! He had had
such a thorough schooling in humanity as nobody else had had! He
had been to school in the streets, in dark places of revelry and
crime, and in the very house of light!

When Mistress Murkison told him that if ever he did the like again,
she would give him notice to quit, he looked in her face: she stared
a moment in return, then threw her arms round his neck, and kissed
him.

"Ye're the bonniest cratur o' a muckle idiot 'at ever man saw!" she
cried; "an' gien ye dinna tak the better care, ye'll be soopit aff
to haiven afore ye ken whaur ye are or what ye're aboot."

Her feelings, if not her sentiments, experienced a relapse when she
discovered that one of her few silver tea-spoons was gone--which,
beyond a doubt, the woman had taken: she abused her, and again
scolded Gibbie, with much vigour. But Gibbie said to himself, "The
woman is not bad, for there were two more silver spoons on the
table." Even in the matter of stealing we must think of our own
beam before our neighbour's mote. It is not easy to be honest.
There is many a thief who is less of a thief than many a
respectable member of society. The thief must be punished, and
assuredly the other shall not come out until he has paid the
uttermost farthing. Gibbie, who would have died rather than cast a
shadow of injustice, was not shocked at the woman's depravity like
Mistress Murkison. I am afraid he smiled. He took no notice either
of her scoldings or her lamentations; but the first week after he
came of age, he carried her a present of a dozen spoons.

Fergus could not tell Ginevra what he had seen; and if he told her
father, she would learn that he had been playing the spy. To go to
Mr. Sclater would have compromised him similarly. And what great
occasion was there? He was not the fellow's keeper!

That same day Gibbie went back to his guardians. At his request
Mrs. Sclater asked Ginevra to spend the following evening with them:
he wanted to tell her about Donal. She accepted the invitation.
But in a village near the foot of Glashgar, Donal had that morning
done what was destined to prevent her from keeping her engagement:
he had posted a letter to her. In an interval of comparative quiet,
he had recall