than a peasant. He became the station, and there was no pretence. He made a rough kind of apology to us both:—
"I fear ye'll find things a bit rough, compared with what you're accustomed to, but I know ye'll not mind. We have hardly got settled down here yit; and me sisther, who always lives with us, is away with me other sisther that is sick, so Norah has to fare by herself; but gentlemen both—you, Mr. Sutherland; and you, Arthur—you're welcome!
We sat down to table, and Norah insisted on doing all the attendance herself. I wanted to help her, and, when she was taking up a plate of cakes from the hearth, stooped beside her and said:—
"May not I help, Norah? Do let me!"
"No—no, dear," she whispered. "Don't ask me now—I'm a little strange yet—another time. You'll be very good, won't you, and help me not to feel awkward?"
Needless to say I sat at table for the rest of the meal, and feasted my eyes on my darling, whilst in common with the others I enjoyed the good things placed before us. But when she saw that I looked too long and too lovingly, she gave me such an imploring glance from her eloquent eyes, that for the remainder of the time I restrained both the ardour of my glance and its quantity within modest bounds.
Oh! but she was fair and sweet to look upon! Her dark hair was plainly combed back, and coiled modestly
