to be a father also; and for a boy like me to play the father was a mere derision.
When I was in the midst of these thoughts and about half-way back to town I saw a figure coming to meet me, and the trouble of my heart was heightened. It seemed I had everything in the world to say to her, but nothing to say first; and remembering how tongue-tied I had been that morning at the Advocate's I made sure that I would find myself struck dumb. But when she came up my fears fled away; not even the consciousness of what I had been privately thinking disconcerted me the least; and I found I could talk with her as easily and rationally as I might with Alan.
"O!" she cried, "you have been seeking your sixpence: did you get it?"
I told her no; but now I had met with her my walk was not in vain. "Though I have seen you to-day already," said I, and told her where and when.
"I did not see you," she said. "My eyes are big, but there are better than mine at seeing far. Only I heard singing in the house."
"That was Miss Grant," said I, "the eldest and the bonniest."
"They say they are all beautiful," said she.
"They think the same of you, Miss Drummond," I replied, "and were all crowding to the window to observe you."
"It is a pity about my being so blind," said she, "or I might have seen them too. And you were in the house? You must have been having the fine time with the fine music and the pretty ladies."
