she feared to let him lie much longer after sundown. Finding him
awake, she drew back again without a word, and sat down as before
with her book. At length he rose, and, approaching her, said--

"Well, Margaret, what book are you at now?"

"Dr. Abercrombie, sir," replied Margaret.

"How do you like it?"

"Verra weel for some things. It makes a body think; but not
a'thegither as I like to think either."

It will be observed that Margaret's speech had begun to improve,
that is, to be more like English.

"What is the matter with it?"

"Weel, ye see, sir, it taks a body a' to bits like, and never pits
them together again. An' it seems to me that a body's min' or soul,
or whatever it may be called--but it's jist a body's ain sel'--can
no more be ta'en to pieces like, than you could tak' that red licht
there oot o' the blue, or the haill sunset oot o' the heavens an'
earth. It may be a' verra weel, Mr. Sutherland, but oh! it's no
like this!"

And Margaret looked around her from the hill-top, and then up into
the heavens, where the stars were beginning to crack the blue with
their thin, steely sparkle.