Kirsty, recalling what her father had repeatedly said of Mrs. Gordon’s management of a horse in her young days, had fallen a wondering how one who so well understood the equine nature, could be so incapable of understanding the human; for certainly she had little known either Archibald Gordon or David Barclay, and quite as little her own son. Having come to the conclusion that the incapacity was caused by overpowering affection for the one human creature she ought not to love, Kirsty found her thoughts return to the sole faculty her father yielded Mrs. Gordon--that of riding a horse as he ought to be ridden. Thereupon came to her mind a conclusion she had lately read somewhere--namely, that a man ought to regard his neighbour as specially characterized by the possession of this or that virtue or capacity, whatever it might be, that distinguished him; for that was as the door-plate indicating the proper entrance to his inner house. A moment more and Kirsty thought she saw a way in which Francis might gain a firmer hold on his mother, as well as provide her with a pleasure that might work toward her redemption. ‘Francie,’ she said, ‘I hae thoucht o’ something. My father has aye said, and ye ken he kens, ’at yer mother was a by ordinar guid rider in her young days, and this is what I wud hae ye du: gang straucht awa, whaurever ye think best, and buy for her the best luikin, best tempered, handiest, and easiest gaein leddy’s-horse ye can lay yer han’s upo’. Ye hae a gey fair beast o’ yer ain, my father says, and ye maun jist ride wi’ her whaurever she gangs.’ ‘I’ll du ’t, Kirsty. I canna gang straucht awa, I doobt, though; I fear she has whusky left, and there’s no sayin what she micht du afore I wan back. I maun gang hame first.’ ‘I’m no clear upo’ that. Ye canna weel gang and rype (_search_) a’ the kists and aumries i’ the hoose she ca’s her ain! That wud anger her terrible. Nor can ye weel lay han’s upon her, and tak frae her by force. A wuman micht du that, but a man, and special a wuman’s ain ae son, canna weel du ’t--that is, gien there’s ony ither coorse ’at can be followt. It seems to me ye maun tak the risk o’ her bottle. And it may be no ill thing ’at she sud disgrace hersel oot and oot. Onygait wi’ bein awa, and comin back wi’ the horse i’ yer han’ ye’ll come afore her like bringin wi’ ye a fresh beginnin, a new order o’ things like, and that w’y av’ide words wi’ her, and words maun aye be av’idit.’ Francis remained in thoughtful silence. ‘I hae little fear,’ pursued Kirsty, ‘but we’ll get her frae the drink a’thegither, and the houp is we may get something better putten intil her. Bein fou whiles, isna the main difficulty. But I beg yer pardon, Francie! I maunna forget ’at she’s your mother!’ ‘Gien ye wud but tak her and me thegither, Kirsty, it wud be a gran’ thing for baith o’ ’s! Wi’ you to tak the half o’ ’t, I micht stan’ up un’er the weicht o’ my responsibility!’