pathy in his misfortune. While he pressed Simon of Hackburn's hand, his anxiety at length found words. "Thank ye, Simon—thank ye, neighbours—I ken what ye wad a' say—But where are they?—Where are———" He stopped, as if afraid even to name the objects of his enquiry; and, with a similar feeling, his kinsmen, without reply, pointed to the hut, into which Hobbie precipitated himself with the desperate air of one who is resolved to know the worst at once. A general expression of sympathy accompanied him.—"Ah, puir fallow—puir Hobbie!"
"He'll learn the warst o't, now!"
"But I trust Earnscliff will get some speerings of the puir lassie."
Such were the exclamations of the group, which, having no acknowledged leader to direct their motions, passively awaited the return of the sufferer, and determined to be guided by his directions. The meeting between Hobbie and his family was in the highest degree affecting. His sisters threw themselves upon
