All the morning and afternoon she watched in vain, eating nothing but a piece of bread that Steenie brought her. At last, in the evening--it was an evening in September, cold and clear, the sun down, and a melancholy glory hanging over the place of his vanishing--she spied the solitary form of Phemy hastening along the road in the direction of the castle. Although she had been on the outlook for her all day, she was at the moment so taken up with the sunset, that Phemy was almost under where she stood before she saw her. She ran at full speed a hundred yards, then slid down a part of the brae too steep to climb, and leaped into the road a few feet in front of Phemy--so suddenly that the girl started with a cry, and stopped. The moment she saw who it was, however, she drew herself up, and would have passed with a stiff greeting. But Kirsty stood in front of her, and would not permit her. ‘What do you want, Kirsty Barclay?’ demanded Phemy, who had within the last week or two advanced considerably in confidence of manner; ‘I am in a hurry!’ ‘Ye’re in a waur hurry nor ye ken, for yer hurry sud be the ither gait!’ answered Kirsty; ‘and I’m gaein to turn ye, or at least no gaein to lat ye gang, ohn heard a bit o’ the trowth frae a woman aulder nor yersel! Lassie, ye seem to think naebody worth hearkenin til a word frae ’cep ae man, but I mean ye to hearken to me! Ye dinna ken what ye’re aboot! I ken Francie Gordon a heap better nor you, and though I ken nae ill o’ him, I ken as little guid: he never did naething yet but to please himsel, and there never cam salvation or comfort to man, woman, or bairn frae ony puir cratur like _him_!’ ‘How dare you speak such lies of a gentleman behind his back!’ cried Phemy, her eyes flashing. ‘He is a friend of mine, and I will not hear him maligned!’ ‘There’s sma’ hairm can come to ony man frae the trowth, Phemy!’ answered Kirsty. ‘Set the man afore me, and I’ll say word for word intil his face what I’m sayin to you ahint his back.’ ‘Miss Barclay,’ rejoined Phemy, with a rather pitiable attempt at dignity, ‘I can permit no one to call me by my Christian name who speaks ill of the man to whom I am engaged!’ ‘That s’ be as ye please, Miss Craig. But I wud lat you ca’ me a’ the ill names in the dictionar to get ye to heark to me! I’m tellin ye naething but what’s true as deith.’ ‘I call no one names. I am always civil to my neighbours whoever they may be! I will not listen to you.’ ‘Eh, lassie, there’s but feow o’ yer neebours ceevil to yer name, whatever they be to yersel! There’s hardly ane has a guid word for ye, Phemy!--Miss Craig--I beg yer pardon!’ ‘Their lying tongues are nothing to me! I know what I am about! I will not stay a moment longer with you! I have an important engagement.’ Once more, as several times already, she would have passed her, but Kirsty stepped yet again in front of her.