n's
glove in his possession.

"She beats a' wi' 'cuteness," Leeby said to me. "Jamie didna put the
glove back in his pouch. Na, he kens her ower weel by this time. She
was up, though, lang afore he was wauken, an' she gaed almost strecht
to the place whaur he had hod it. I believe she lay waukin a' nicht
thinkin' oot whaur it would be. Ay, it was aneath the mattress. I saw
her hodden't i' the back o' the drawer, but I didna let on."

I quite believed Leeby when she told me afterwards that she had watched
Jamie feeling beneath the mattress.

"He had a face," she said, "I assure ye, he had a face, when he
discovered the glove was gone again."

"He maun be terrible ta'en up aboot it," Jess said to Leeby, "or he
wouldna keep it aneath the mattress."

"Od," said Leeby, "it was yersel 'at drove him to't."

Again Jamie recovered his property, and again Jess got hold of it.
This time he looked in vain. I learnt the fate of the glove from Leeby.

"Ye mind 'at she keepit him at hame frae the kirk on Sabbath, because
he had a cauld?" Leeby said. "Ay, me or my father would hae a gey ill
cauld afore she would let's bide at hame frae the kirk; but Jamie's
different. Weel, mair than ance she's been near speakin' to 'im aboot
the glove, but she grew fleid aye. She was so terrified there was
something in't.

"On Sabbath, though, she had him to hersel, an' he wasna so bright as
usual. She sat wi' the Bible on her lap, pretendin' to read, but a'
the time she was takkin' keeks (glances) at him. I dinna ken 'at he
was broodin' ower the glove, but she thocht he was, an' just afore the
kirk came oot she couldna stand it nae langer. She put her hand in her
pouch, an pu'd oot the glove, wi' the paper round it, just as it had
been when she came upon't.

"'That's yours, Jamie,' she said; 'it was ill-dune o' me to tak it, but
I couldna help it.'

"Jamie put oot his hand, an' syne he drew't back. 'It's no a thing o'
nae consequence, mother, he said.

"'Wha is she, Jamie?' my mother said.

"He turned awa his heid--so she telt me. 'It's a lassie in London,' he
said, 'I dinna ken her muckle.'

"'Ye maun ken her weel,' my mother persisted, 'to be carryin' aboot her
glove; I'm dootin' ye're gey fond o' her, Jamie?'

"'Na,' said Jamie, 'am no. There's no naebody I care for like yersel,
mother.'

"'Ye wouldna carry aboot onything o' mine, Jamie,' my mother said; but
he says, 'Oh, mother, I carry aboot yer face wi' me ay