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"
Katrine
,
my
dear
,
you
’
ve
been
long
of
coming
.
"
It
was
Nicholas
who
spoke
.
"
I
thought
you
had
slipped
off
to
your
bed
.
This
is
my
sister
’
s
child
,
sirs
,
who
keeps
me
company
in
this
auld
barrack
-
-
Robert
Yester
’
s
daughter
,
him
that
fell
with
Monro
in
the
year
’
thirty
-
four
.
You
see
three
gentlemen
-
troopers
of
Leven
’
s
,
my
dear
,
and
Mr
.
Sempill
,
the
new
minister
of
Woodilee
.
"
The
girl
was
dressed
in
a
gown
of
blue
velvet
,
the
skirts
of
which
were
drawn
back
in
front
to
show
an
embroidered
petticoat
of
stiff
yellow
satin
.
It
was
cut
low
at
the
neck
and
shoulders
,
and
round
the
top
ran
a
broad
edging
of
fine
lace
.
Her
dark
hair
was
caught
up
in
a
knot
behind
,
but
allowed
to
fall
in
curls
on
each
side
of
her
face
.
That
face
,
to
David
’
s
startled
eyes
,
was
like
none
that
he
had
ever
seen
before
,
certainly
like
none
of
the
Edinburgh
burgher
girls
whom
he
had
observed
in
their
finery
on
the
Saturday
causeway
.
It
was
small
and
delicately
featured
,
the
cheeks
flushed
with
youth
and
health
,
the
eyes
dark
,
brilliant
,
and
mirthful
.
At
another
time
he
would
have
been
shocked
at
her
dress
,
for
the
fashion
of
a
low
bodice
had
not
spread
much
beyond
the
Court
,
but
now
he
did
not
take
note
of
what
she
wore
.
He
was
gazing
moonstruck
upon
a
revelation
.
She
smiled
on
him
-
-
she
smiled
on
them
all
.
She
curtsied
lightly
to
her
uncle
,
to
Rollo
,
and
to
the
dark
man
.
But
she
did
not
curtsy
to
the
minister
.
For
suddenly
,
as
she
looked
at
the
groom
,
her
composure
deserted
her
.
Her
mouth
moved
as
if
she
would
have
spoken
,
and
then
she
checked
herself
,
for
David
saw
that
the
groom
had
put
his
finger
to
his
lips
.
Instead
she
curtsied
almost
to
the
ground
,
a
reverence
far
more
deep
than
she
had
accorded
to
the
others
,
and
when
he
gave
her
his
hand
she
bent
her
head
as
if
her
impulse
was
to
kiss
it
.
All
this
David
saw
with
a
confused
vision
.
He
had
scarcely
spoken
ten
words
in
his
life
to
a
woman
outside
his
own
kin
,
and
this
bright
apparition
loosened
his
knees
with
nervousness
.
He
stammered
his
farewells
.
He
had
already
outstayed
the
bounds
of
decency
,
and
he
had
a
long
ride
home
-
-
he
wished
his
friends
a
safe
conclusion
to
their
journey
-
-
in
the
course
of
his
pastoral
visitations
he
would
have
the
chance
of
coming
again
to
Calidon
.
"
’
Deed
,
sir
,
and
you
’
ll
make
sure
of
that
,
"
said
the
hospitable
Nicholas
.
"
There
’
s
aye
a
bite
and
a
sup
at
Calidon
for
the
minister
of
Woodilee
.
"
He
bowed
to
the
girl
,
and
she
looked
at
him
for
the
first
time
,
a
quizzical
appraising
look
,
and
gave
him
a
fleeting
smile
.
Five
minutes
later
he
was
on
his
horse
and
fording
Rood
.
He
took
the
long
road
by
the
back
of
the
Hill
of
Deer
,
riding
in
bright
moonshine
up
the
benty
slopes
and
past
the
hazel
thickets
.
His
mind
was
in
a
noble
confusion
,
for
on
this
,
his
first
day
in
his
parish
,
experiences
had
thronged
on
him
too
thick
and
fast
.
Out
of
the
welter
two
faces
stood
clear
,
the
groom
’
s
and
the
girl
’
s
.
.
.
.
He
remembered
the
talk
,
and
his
conscience
pricked
him
.
Had
he
been
faithful
to
his
vows
?
Had
he
been
guilty
of
the
sin
of
Meroz
?
Had
he
listened
to
railing
accusations
and
been
silent
?
.
.
.
He
did
not
know
-
-
in
truth
he
did
not
care
-
-
for
the
sum
of
his
recollection
was
not
of
an
argument
but
of
a
person
.
The
face
of
the
young
man
had
been
more
than
his
words
,
for
it
had
been
the
face
of
a
comrade
,
and
an
intimate
friendliness
had
looked
out
of
his
eyes
.
He
longed
to
see
him
again
,
to
be
with
him
,
to
follow
him
,
to
serve
him
-
-
but
he
did
not
know
his
name
,
and
they
would
doubtless
never
meet
again
.
David
was
very
young
,
and
could
have
wept
at
the
thought
.
And
the
girl
.
.
?
The
sight
of
her
had
been
the
coping
-
stone
to
a
night
of
marvels
.
She
was
not
like
the
groom
-
-
he
had
been
glad
to
flee
from
her
company
,
for
she
had
no
part
in
his
world
.
But
a
marvel
beyond
doubt
!
The
recollection
of
her
made
him
a
poet
,
and
as
he
picked
his
way
over
the
hill
he
was
quoting
to
himself
the
lines
in
Homer
where
the
old
men
of
Troy
see
Helen
approaching
,
and
wonder
at
her
beauty
.
.
.
.
ου
νέμεσις
Τρωας
-
-
how
did
it
go
?
"
Small
wonder
that
the
Trojans
and
the
mailed
Greeks
should
endure
pain
through
many
years
for
such
a
woman
.
In
face
she
is
strangely
like
to
some
immortal
.
"
