She hardly spoke to any one, or any one to her, but four days after the
visit we have described people began to bend looks of sympathy on her, to
step out of their way to give her a kindly good-morrow; after a bit, fish
and meal used to be placed on her table by one neighbor or another, when
she was out, and so on. She was at first behindhand in responding to all
this, but by degrees she thawed to those who were thawing to her. Next,
Saunders called on her, and showed her a settlement, made for her
benefit, on certain lands in Lanarkshire. She was at ease for life.

The Almighty had seen her all these years.

But how came her neighbors to melt?

Because a nobleman had visited her.

Not exactly, dear novel-reader.

This was it.

That same night, by a bright fire lighting up snowy walls, burnished
copper, gleaming candlesticks, and a dinner-table floor, sat the mistress
of the house, Christie Johnstone, and her brother, Flucker.

She with a book, he with his reflections opposite her.

"Lassie, hae ye ony siller past ye?"

"Ay, lad; an' I mean to keep it!" The baddish boy had registered a vow to
the contrary, and proceeded to bleed his flint (for to do Christie
justice the process was not very dissimilar). Flucker had a versatile