tation wore only a
_mutch_ or close cap, but Tibbie wore a bonnet with a brilliantly gay
ribbon, so fond was she of bright colours, although she had nothing but
the testimony of others, vague enough ere it succeeded in crossing the
dark distances of her brain, as to the effect of those even with which
she adorned her own person. Her room was very bare, but as clean as it
was possible for room to be. Her bed was in the wall which divided it
from the rest of the house, and this one room was her whole habitation.
The other half of the cottage was occupied by an old cripple, nearly
bedridden, to whose many necessities Tibbie used to minister. The eyes
of the one and the legs of the other worked in tolerable harmony; and
if they had a quarrel now and then, it was no greater than gave a zest
to their intercourse. These particulars, however, Annie did not learn
till afterwards.

She looked all about the room, and seeing no sign of any dinner for
Tibbie, was reminded thereby that her own chance had considerably
diminished.

"I maun awa hame," she said with a sigh.

"Ay, lassie; they'll be bidin' their denner for ye."

"Na, nae fear o' that," answered Annie, adding with another little
sigh, "I doot there winna be muckle o' the broth to the fore or I win
hame."

"Weel jist bide, bairn, an' tak' a cup o' tay wi' me. It's a' 'at I hae
to offer ye. Will ye bide?"

"Maybe I wad be i' yer gait," objected Annie feebly.

"Na, na; nae fear o' that. Ye'll read a bit to me efterhin."

"Ay will I."

And Annie stayed all the afternoon with Tibbie, and went home with the
Bruces after the evening service. This was the beginning of her
acquaintance with Tibbie Dyster.

It soon grew into a custom for Annie to take Tibbie home from the
chapel--a custom which the Bruces could hardly have objected to, had
they been so inclined. But they were not so inclined, for it saved the
broth--that is, each of them got a little more in consequence, and
Annie's absence was therefore a Sabbath blessing.

Much as she was neglected at home, however, Annie was steadily gaining
a good reputation in the town. Old men said she was a gude bairn, and
old women said she was a douce lassie; while those who enjoyed finding
fault more than giving praise, turned their silent approbation of Annie
into expressions of disapproval of the Bruces--"lattin' her gang like a
beggar, as gin she was no kith or kin o' theirs, whan it's weel kent
whase heifer Rob Bruce is