tell her ay or no. Well, she was a widow, and I can never be thinking a widow a good woman."
"Catriona!" says I, "how do you make out that?"
"I do not know," said she; "I am only telling you the seeming in my heart. And then to marry a new man! Fy! But that was her; and she was married again upon my Uncle Robin, and went with him awhile to kirk and market; and then wearied, or else her friends got claught of her and talked her round, or maybe she turned ashamed; at the least of it, she ran away, and went back to her own folk, and said we had held her in the lake, and I will never tell you all what. I have never thought much of any females since that day. And so in the end my father, James More, came to be cast in prison, and you know the rest of it as well as me."
"And through all you had no friends?" said I.
"No," said she; "I have been pretty chief with two-three lasses on the braes, but not to call it friends."
"Well, mine is a plain tale," said I. "I never had a friend to my name till I met in with you."
"And that brave Mr. Stewart?" she asked.
"O, yes, I was forgetting him," I said. "But he in a man, and that is very different."
"I would think so," said she. "O, yes, it is quite different."
"And then there was one other," said I. "I once thought I had a friend, but it proved a disappointment."
She asked me who she was?
